<?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-8398854732615407687</id><updated>2012-01-07T10:20:37.188-07:00</updated><category term='dad'/><category term='IF education'/><category term='protocol'/><category term='u/s'/><category term='cd19 follie check'/><category term='d8 stims follie check'/><category term='ultrasound'/><category term='derby'/><category term='nightmare'/><category term='cysts'/><category term='location location location'/><category term='stupid people shouldn&apos;t breed'/><category term='hcg'/><category term='exclamation points'/><category term='IVF#2'/><category term='my eyebrows are orange'/><category term='LP'/><category term='pineapple is the devil. Probably holding hand with digital hpts down in hell.'/><category term='missing ovulation'/><category term='cross pollination'/><category term='E2'/><category term='pity party'/><category term='9dpIUI'/><category term='study'/><category term='rude women'/><category term='Snarky is an awesome word and I owe thanks to IO for bringing it to light'/><category term='Viagra'/><category term='IVF#1'/><category term='rant'/><category term='kids'/><category term='Hepatitis song'/><category term='halloween'/><category term='I wish I could buy the world a coke'/><category term='What I Wish I Knew'/><category term='my niece is dumb'/><category term='crybaby'/><category term='punk rock.'/><category term='belly pictures'/><category term='green with jealousy'/><category term='nancy stories'/><category term='Paul John Ringo and George'/><category term='stinky'/><category term='I'/><category term='menopur'/><category term='beta'/><category term='diet'/><category term='the black plague or the bubonic plague (per Sarah)'/><category term='d5 stims follie check'/><category term='waiting sucks assholes'/><category term='anniversary'/><category term='insurance'/><category term='sperm analysis'/><category term='fertiles'/><category term='mathlete'/><category term='LUF'/><category term='statistics'/><category term='Save your mailbox from junkmail and save the world.'/><category term='Pink Rose'/><category term='pregnancy'/><category term='weight'/><category term='walgreens is the devil'/><category term='IVF success rates'/><category term='IUI #3'/><category term='VCI'/><category term='teeth'/><category term='c-section'/><category term='inspired'/><category term='3dp3dt'/><category term='cd9 follie check'/><category term='way too much commenting'/><category term='gtky'/><category term='2dp3dt'/><category term='ET'/><category term='cd15 follie check'/><category term='adoption.'/><category term='the little egg that could'/><category term='vent'/><category term='hope'/><category term='thank you'/><category term='Hooha sticking'/><category term='boobies'/><category term='grammar'/><category term='surgery'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='Boston'/><category term='gifts'/><category term='lost hope'/><category term='poas'/><category term='IUI #2'/><category term='presents'/><category term='tarot'/><category term='I am a moron.'/><category term='the luck of the nancy'/><category term='hpts'/><category term='random question'/><category term='calming down'/><category term='ewcm'/><category term='recovery'/><category term='i suck'/><category term='that loving feeling'/><category term='righty is an over achiever'/><category term='ER'/><category term='temps'/><category term='femara'/><category term='vaccination'/><category term='peapod'/><category term='jail time'/><category term='dork'/><category term='today is a good day.'/><category term='Estrogen'/><category term='moodies'/><category term='blogoversary'/><category term='I am a hypocrit'/><category term='insomnia'/><category term='quitting'/><category term='sucks'/><category term='scary guy pills'/><category term='dog from hell'/><category term='maternity pictures'/><category term='acupuncture'/><category term='writing'/><category term='back pain'/><category term='+opk'/><category term='beta#3'/><category term='horn tooting.'/><category term='RE'/><category term='hello jed'/><category term='pictures'/><category term='Living Child Free After Infertility or Loss'/><category term='my sister is dumber (in her case it is dumber - not more dumb)'/><category term='rock star'/><category term='finance'/><category term='funny'/><category term='The Mod Squad'/><category term='socks'/><category term='nursery'/><category term='registry'/><category term='IVF'/><category term='loss'/><category term='predictions'/><category term='I&apos;ve heard PIO is evil.'/><category term='cd18 follie check'/><category term='let&apos;s talk about bad words.'/><category term='please please please keep me busy'/><category term='HSG'/><category term='ttc'/><category term='horoscope'/><category term='freedom'/><category term='cost'/><category term='d9 stims follie check'/><category term='ColoBloggers'/><category term='My husband is an idiot.'/><category term='Cortizone'/><category term='my lucky stars'/><category term='I like Sara&apos;s labels so I&apos;m doing my own but they aren&apos;t nearly as cool as hers'/><category term='injection'/><category term='ick.'/><category term='liar'/><category term='c16'/><category term='OHSS'/><category term='quizzes'/><category term='triphasic'/><category term='IUI statistics'/><category term='lining'/><category term='breech'/><category term='dribble'/><category term='Irish'/><category term='chances'/><category term='gratitude'/><category term='game'/><category term='plan'/><category term='surgery record'/><category term='ovulation'/><category term='we know you meant well.'/><category term='follie check'/><category term='fertilization report'/><category term='cd11 follie check'/><category term='heartrate'/><category term='stimulation'/><category term='annoyances'/><category term='cd20 follie check'/><category term='belly'/><category term='d7 stims follie check'/><category term='IF bloggers'/><category term='c14'/><category term='infertility'/><category term='cd13 follie check'/><category term='shellac'/><category term='my IF life sucks.'/><category term='FET'/><category term='sex'/><category term='emotions'/><category term='FRER'/><category term='monitor'/><category term='anons don&apos;t have a spine.'/><category term='delestrogen'/><category term='schnarky'/><category term='ttc sucks'/><category term='just say &quot;no&quot; to bum juice.'/><category term='cd10 follie check'/><category term='friends'/><category term='meme'/><category term='6dp3dt'/><category term='freaking out'/><category term='learn something new'/><category term='budget'/><category term='counter'/><category term='i&apos;m a slow grower'/><category term='doppler'/><category term='viability'/><category term='that feeling'/><category term='Roller Derby'/><category term='award'/><category term='blog'/><category term='pineapple'/><category term='PIO sucks'/><category term='c12'/><category term='stabbing is easy for me.'/><category term='IUI'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='bedrest'/><category term='kindness'/><category term='BFP'/><category term='OWT'/><category term='Red Sox'/><category term='C11'/><category term='weight watchers'/><category term='history'/><category term='failure'/><category term='rambling'/><category term='diagnosis'/><category term='secondary infertility'/><category term='cancelled'/><category term='drugs'/><title type='text'>TheNewLifeOfNancy...</title><subtitle type='html'>... Once (and still) Infertile, but still Schnarky as hell. This blog is dedicated to the daily ramblings from the mind of Nancy. It isn't about anything profound in the grand scheme of things, but it ~is~ about things in my life, schnarkiness always included. I have a second blog, listed in my profile, but the blogs will continue to remain separate.

&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;"I'm aiming for heaven, but I'll probably wind up down in hell"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1140</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-5053563879457886711</id><published>2012-01-07T00:50:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T00:53:31.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>so much to say</title><content type='html'>I'm freaking PUMMELLED right now with work and personal life, but I got my reader all set up with all of the URLs you gave me and I've got a zillion topics to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got an amazing sinus infection but I'll be up on the mountain snowboarding over the next two days. I'll only be at a top elevation of 12,000ft, so I'm hoping the pressure doen't kill me. Hrm - atmospheric pressure lessens with alltitude, right? So will my sinus pressure feel better when I get up there, or worse? Who remembers Physics?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-5053563879457886711?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=5053563879457886711' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5053563879457886711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5053563879457886711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-much-to-say.html' title='so much to say'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6345407769732548982</id><published>2011-12-27T15:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T15:43:25.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's apparently Drive Like a Moron Day.</title><content type='html'>I didn't get the memo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6345407769732548982?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6345407769732548982' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6345407769732548982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6345407769732548982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/12/its-apparently-drive-like-moron-day.html' title='It&apos;s apparently Drive Like a Moron Day.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2530797855566963243</id><published>2011-12-27T11:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T11:42:19.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>~chirp~chirp~</title><content type='html'>It's so quiet here at work today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have things to do, but I'm going to take a chunk of my time to redo my google reader. I have all of the blogs you girls gave me, so I'm going to simply delete my 200+ list I had before and replace it with yours. Then I'm going to actually READ them! Yay! I'm so excited to hear what's new with your girls. I won't be able to really read any backstories, so please excuse any random comments I may leave on your blogs today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"see" you soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2530797855566963243?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2530797855566963243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2530797855566963243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2530797855566963243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/12/chirpchirp.html' title='~chirp~chirp~'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-8818102668917988295</id><published>2011-12-26T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T19:07:07.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst snowboarding collision I have ever sustained.</title><content type='html'>I took the girls skiing and after some runs with them, left them w/ grandpa and dad to go run some on my own. Balls out on double black diamonds. I rocked it. Switched with the boys and took the girls while they ran some run. We all reunite and take a few more runs down on the easiest of greens. I'm circling allie as she makes it down and I'm a little ...ahead of her when a little kid, out of nowhere, turns right in front of me and ~sits down~ maybe 2 feet ahead. There was NO avoiding him. I just had my board freshly edged and didn't want to decapitate the poor kid nor hit him at all with my board, so in the half a second I had before we hit, I jumped and turned a 180 and flung myself upwards, in a quasi backflip. I almost miss the kid completely, my back skidding across his shoulders and head, as I land full force on my head, my board still flying across, landing me back up in a sitting position. My first reaction was to yell "Watch where the fu@k you're going!" until I see he is a paniced little kid, all of maybe nine. I change my tune, asking him if he's okay and he says yes and starts to apologize. He's fine. I get up and take off to survey my own injuries. I got rocked and over the next 12 hours I figure I got a slight concussion and my neck is showing signs of a bit of whiplash. 21 years of snowboarding and I'm taken out on a run called "snowflake". Awesome&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-8818102668917988295?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=8818102668917988295' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8818102668917988295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8818102668917988295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/12/worst-snowboarding-collision-i-have.html' title='Worst snowboarding collision I have ever sustained.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-5542369244751940380</id><published>2011-12-13T11:09:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T11:13:30.726-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surgery'/><title type='text'>Surgery #23</title><content type='html'>(first off, thanks for giving me the links to your blogs. I'm going to get them in my reader and start reading!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may not be #23 if some other wacky thing happens to me before then, but I know this surgery is in the future for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long story much shorter in easy to read bullets ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ A few months ago, I suddenly got this feeling in my right ear. It felt like it was a bug. Horrible. Doc checked, no bug, ear infection, antibiotics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ 2 weeks later, still feels like a bug. Having a few dizzy spells. Hearing almost underwater type sounds. Back to doc. Nothing. Referred to ENT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ 2 weeks later, see ENT. Nothing. Even under microscope. Hearing tests show an uncommon type of hearing loss, low-frequency conductive hearing loss. Both audiologist and ENT were a bit suprised. If condition continues, refer to the next level of doctors, the neuro-otolaryngologist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ The feeling in ear is happening 25+ times a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ See Neuro-otolaryngologist. First thing he wants hearing test redone, not believing the one ENT sent him. Tested. Same. He then performs all sorts of tests. Seems when a vibration is put on my head behind my ear, my eyes do the wrong movement. Same thing when my ear is pressurized. Sent to get a CT scan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Back to Neuro-otolaryngologist after CT performed. CT confirms I have a "very rare" condition called "superior canal dehiscence syndrome". (bone at top of ear is partially missing, literally wron down by the brain.) Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Fixing would take surgery following these steps: &lt;br /&gt;1. cut a piece out of my skull behind ear &lt;br /&gt;2. break an ear bone. (The pinna? I forget) &lt;br /&gt;3. lift up MY BRAIN. &lt;br /&gt;4. replace missing piece of bone. &lt;br /&gt;5. situate my brain once again. &lt;br /&gt;6. fix the bone they had to break. &lt;br /&gt;7. plug up the whole in my skull. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ I know it's not technically "brain surgery", but the fact they have to touch it at all freaks me out. Since my symptoms aren't too bad right now, we are giong to skip the surgery. But he said my symptoms will most likely just get worse and when dizziness and/or hearing problems start affecting my quality of life, we'll do the surgery then. Next appt to check symptoms is in Feb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heh. brain surgery. not too surprising, is it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-5542369244751940380?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=5542369244751940380' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5542369244751940380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5542369244751940380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/12/surgery-23.html' title='Surgery #23'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-8894191931243150590</id><published>2011-12-08T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T19:07:39.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Favor ...   (Sticky Post - new ones below!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(there&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; is&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; a new blog entry under this sticky note!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to "sticky" this note here for a little while, hoping to get more comments over a bit of time ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't want to read me explain ad nauseam about the whys of my favor, just skip to the bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it goes. After many empty declarations on my part to start reading blogs again, I have failed to do it. WHY? It's because of the one thing that would &lt;i&gt;seem&lt;/i&gt; like THE most helpful aspect of picking up where I left off ... My Reader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My reader has, let's see, 325 blogs waiting for me. Everytime I try, I not only get overwhelmed, but I don't feel "at home" with the blogs. It takes forever minutes of back reading to determine what the blogger is blogging about. And that's if I even remember the blogger. I was adding so many blogs at the end, I just don't recollect who everyone even is anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ~loved~ when I was able to share in the joys and be there for the not-so-joys. And I want to do that again. The best place I can see to start is deleting ~all~ of the blogs within my reader. Start reading blogs based upon your input, and THEN start adding new blogs as I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I obviously need YOU to do is if you would allow &lt;i&gt;ME&lt;/i&gt; to read &lt;i&gt;YOUR&lt;/i&gt; blog, I would love if you would comment. If your profile (from comments) lists your blog (a single one), you don't need anything to do besides just leaving a comment about anything at all. Tell me your favorite flavor of soup or something. But please, comment. If you have a profile that lists multiple blogs OR it's not available in your profile, list it for me in the comments section? (If you want your comment deleted after I get the blog url, just let me know).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to start reading the blogs of those who I am lucky enough to have swing by &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; blog to start with. Then, I'll get more blogs like I used to - just by reading reading comments on my friend's blogs and liking their word style. This is so I can add a title comment in my reader as to who I "met" this person from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;c&gt;if you skipped this post&lt;/b&gt; because you didn't want to read my ramblings, start reading again! ~wink~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/c&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLEASE! Leave me a comment with your blog URL so I can add you to my reader!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;note&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; ... if your blog is private and I used to be one of your readers, I would love to read you again (like little miss emily!). Can you pretty-please send me an invite or the password to &lt;a href="mailto:nleisher@yahoo.com"&gt;nleisher@yahoo.com&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-8894191931243150590?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=8894191931243150590' title='29 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8894191931243150590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8894191931243150590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/12/sticky-post-new-ones-below.html' title='The Favor ...   (Sticky Post - new ones below!)'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2311622045392120967</id><published>2011-12-08T16:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-08T16:24:57.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloggemies and Faking It:</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;How to seem like a better person without actually improving yourself.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above is the book I picked up yesterday when I was out xmas shopping. It cracked me up so hard that it only took a matter of a second before i determined it to be mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lame thing about slowing down to sloth speed in blogging efforts? You no longer have haters. I always knew I was blogging often enough when I had bloggemies. A few years ago, I'd of posted this book title and instead of eliciting laughs (hopefully), I'd get a bunch of comment "How ironic because you are MOST in need of improving yourself!" But, alas, all my bloggemies have found newer, better bloggers to hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bloggemies". That's a pretty cool word. I hereby declare bloggemies to be my newest, and most favorite at the moment, made up words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2311622045392120967?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2311622045392120967' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2311622045392120967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2311622045392120967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/12/bloggemies-and-faking-it.html' title='Bloggemies and Faking It:'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-893013592594807594</id><published>2011-11-28T21:39:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T22:01:21.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>whoa dude. not cool coincidences.</title><content type='html'>Last week here in town, a woman's body was found burning at a local trail head. It was found out to be an 87 year old local woman. She wasn't your typical 87 yr old granny. She was still very active and enjoyed things like facebook, which she was on a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, it seems it was a burglary gone awry. (well, i guess her death may have been planned, i have no idea yet.) It looks like a random burglary because houses next to hers were found to have been tried to get broken into. There were screens removed and windows tried with no luck. For 87 yr old Kit Grazioli, her window was found accessible. Using fingerprints the police found on scene, they went and picked up 21 year old suspect, Marcus Allen Smith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's where the coincidences get a little weird ...&lt;br /&gt;---&amp;gt; The victim's house was reported as in the "1100 block of Samuel Point Drive".&lt;br /&gt;~ Our great grandmother lived just down the street, but had moved right before her passing.&lt;br /&gt;~ We know the owner of one of the tried-to-but-couldn't-get-in houses.&lt;br /&gt;~ We have friends who know the victim quite well. One of our closer friends just attended a meeting and the victim sat right next to her and they chatted throughout the meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&amp;gt; The suspect was reported to have been picked up on the "1300 block of Suncrest Way"&lt;br /&gt;~ Our great grandmother, mentioned above, moved out of her home on Samuel Point and moved in with her daughter (our Aunt) into a house at 1345 Suncrest Way (they recently moved, which is why I'm not worried about giving out such details).&lt;br /&gt;~ Our Aunt's next door neighbor, at 1353 Suncrest Way, had a son of the same age as the suspect.&lt;br /&gt;~ The police were called multiple times by concerned neighbors when the father of the boy living at 1353 would presumably "beat on" the son and the mother.&lt;br /&gt;~ The suspect's name is Marcus Allen Smith. Using the public property search for the homes neighboring our Aunt's house. The house immediately next door is said to be owned by "Allen Smith".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all really sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-893013592594807594?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=893013592594807594' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/893013592594807594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/893013592594807594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/11/whoa-dude-not-cool-coincidences.html' title='whoa dude. not cool coincidences.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-8019441389496688431</id><published>2011-11-27T21:29:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T21:32:49.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>(In)Fertility statistics.</title><content type='html'>I was watching GWLBWLB tonight and I heard one girl say "25% of couples will get pregnant on their first try".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after rolling my eyes, I tried to access my infertility stats section of my memory vault and realized that someone had broken in and stole everything of value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a TON of general and very detailed statistics out there regarding fertility and infertility. Help me out and comment with any you happen to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-8019441389496688431?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=8019441389496688431' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8019441389496688431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8019441389496688431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/11/infertility-statistics.html' title='(In)Fertility statistics.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6611695578935163345</id><published>2011-11-16T17:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T09:55:09.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i like big butts and i cannot lie</title><content type='html'>and I know you other brothers can't deny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quick blog post here. I'm on a vinyl kick and running through my collections. It's not a ~huge~ selection, but let's say is isn't a tiny bit either. I have a couple of hundred records - lp and 7".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My comment today is - there isn't really any great vinyl selection here in my town. It used to be stinkweeks and eastside records, but not anymore. (heh - I still have my Tower Records badge with my name filled out as "bubbles". All I now have to chose from is the locally owned record store which only carries one aisle of new records and only 2 tiny bins for their 7"s. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know i can buy anything off the internet, but half the fun was going on my weekly mission to the record store and slowly flip through each record. On more than a few outtings I would buy a record that just looked good. Or maybe came from a label I was familiar with the types of bands they signed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me sad. Does anyone else out there shop for vinyl? Any recomendations on searching in the absence of a good record store? Or am I denstined to make trips to the big cities for a ~real~ record store?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6611695578935163345?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6611695578935163345' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6611695578935163345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6611695578935163345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-like-big-butts-and-i-cannot-lie.html' title='i like big butts and i cannot lie'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-8791880702964981422</id><published>2011-11-08T20:19:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T21:09:24.291-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hello jed'/><title type='text'>11 years old. Whoa.  And have you seen francis bean?</title><content type='html'>I've been playing some really old music lately, delving into a lot of things I grew up listening to. The violent femmes, as you can tell from my last post, is one of those bands. I was at a stop light, looking at the cd itself. And then I saw it. 1983. Holy shit. I was ELEVEN. That's a long time ago for me, I'm not a spring chicken. Although I didn't listen to them until I was 14. I distinctly remember sharing the headphones of Cindy's walkman (so cool!) in typing class. (yes, typing. i sucked at it at the time. I used to wait until someone was done with their assignment and then I'd take their paper to the library on a "bathroom break" and photocopy it, slap my name on top and turn it in.) Anywho - I was enthralled by "add it up". It was the very first time I heard the f bomb in music. It changed my life. I scraped together some money and went and bought the tape myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I think is crazy is it is almost 28 years old and I don't think it sounds that old. Like it could still be played, as is, on any 'alternative' radio station. Or am I just getting old too? Does it sound like classic (punk)rock to a 20 year old today? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nirvana too. Nevermind is fucking 20 years old. And it IS played on regular rotation by many of the rock radio stations. Are they just that immortal? (ouch.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a huge nirvana fan. Always was. I got bleach in 1989, not long after it was released. I saw them in a handful of shows - starting with a tiny bar in 91 when i had my fake id (the real reason i had one was to get into shows when my favorite bands were playing in bars) for $5. Saw them play at another very small bar when word leaked out they were showing up for a non advertised show when one of the bands they were friends with from the northwest was playing (the melvins? or mudhoney? I think the latter) the same night they were playing the arizona state fair. And then he killed himself. It broke my heart so much that I stopped listening to nirvana all together for years and years. It broke my heart to play anything. It still does. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tangent here ... I finally got over my questions about why he killed himself. This is just my own conclusion, but it's one I can accept.  Kurt Cobain was a tortured soul all of his life. And then he got ~everything~ the average artist could ever want handed to him on a platinum platter in the space of just a few years. Fame. Money. Adoration. A wife. A daughter. I think he tried to appreciated it and tried to be happy but his own mentality wouldn't join in. He was ~still~ tortured. Could you imagine how horrific it would be to you if you came to the conclusion that even after getting ~everything~ you could ever imagine to hope to get, your brain STILL kept you tortured? That realization would drive me to suicide. To find out no matter what you did, no matter what the world gave you in return, you would NEVER gain happiness? And then to fear your unhappiness would touch upon his beautiful daughter, frances bean? I understand how he must felt. And I understand his decision to go. Am I glad he did it? No. Have I made peace with the "why"? yes. yes i have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tangent 2 here ... Have you seen that recent photo session with francis bean cobain? Holy shit. She. is. gorgeous. She looks so much like her mom and so much like her dad at the same time. It's got to be hard to live your life under the shadow of her father's career and her mother's nuttiness. Which, by the way, I love courtney love. She'd fucking bat shit crazy - yes. But that's what I love about her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Circling back to my music choices, just a few more things to say. I bought some old albums I was nosalgic over listening to in my formative years. One album was Public Image Limited. You know, Johnny Rotten's post sex pistols band? I used to LOVE this one album. So I listened to it. And I'll never listen to it ever again. It's just plain terrible. The next one was Pop Will Eat Itself. How do i even describe it? A electronic/techno/alternative/'rap' style? It's like nine inch nails and the beastie boys has a bastard son.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-8791880702964981422?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=8791880702964981422' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8791880702964981422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8791880702964981422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/11/11-years-old-whoa-and-have-you-seen.html' title='11 years old. Whoa.  And have you seen francis bean?'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-8441427635011044180</id><published>2011-10-27T13:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T13:38:00.574-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Vanity Plates</title><content type='html'>First off, I hate that customized plates are called vanity plates. I'm not wanting a plate that says "I'm awesome".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did just send in for a set. First request "punkroc", second is "overfed".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the first one, but the second one? oh man, it makes me laugh everytime I see it. Everytime there is a car behind me at a fast food drive thru line, they'll be all "great. this is giong to take forever".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm so easily amused.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-8441427635011044180?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=8441427635011044180' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8441427635011044180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8441427635011044180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/10/vanity-plates.html' title='Vanity Plates'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-9216915894567268615</id><published>2011-10-26T21:25:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T21:29:20.135-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You can just kiss off</title><content type='html'>I take one, one, one cause you left me and &lt;br /&gt;Two, two, two for my family and &lt;br /&gt;3, 3, 3 for my heartache and &lt;br /&gt;4, 4, 4 for my headaches and &lt;br /&gt;5, 5, 5 for my lonely and &lt;br /&gt;6, 6, 6 for my sorrow and &lt;br /&gt;7, 7, for no tomorrow and&lt;br /&gt;8, 8, I forget what 8 was for and &lt;br /&gt;9, 9, 9 for a lost god and&lt;br /&gt;10, 10, 10, 10 for everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah well don't get so distressed &lt;br /&gt;Did I happen to mention that I'm impressed?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-9216915894567268615?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=9216915894567268615' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9216915894567268615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9216915894567268615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/10/you-can-just-kiss-off.html' title='You can just kiss off'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-3185087906155845695</id><published>2011-10-13T19:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T19:54:27.136-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, In fact I ~did~ order fries with my shake.</title><content type='html'>And give me a hot apple pie with my value meal ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-JMttQwIxM/TpeVqWAE5VI/AAAAAAAABec/mpWkiPcyyu8/s1600/fat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-JMttQwIxM/TpeVqWAE5VI/AAAAAAAABec/mpWkiPcyyu8/s320/fat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663159611134633298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I downloaded fat booth and I can't stop laughing. These pictures are fucking awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I'm sorry if this is offensive to anyone. I know it's wrong, I willfully admit I have a character flaw.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for proof, this is a pre-booth pic ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AcLmu99AYbo/TpeVqWBNUvI/AAAAAAAABeo/z3sWBIWoRv8/s1600/notfat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AcLmu99AYbo/TpeVqWBNUvI/AAAAAAAABeo/z3sWBIWoRv8/s320/notfat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663159611139379954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-3185087906155845695?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=3185087906155845695' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3185087906155845695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3185087906155845695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/10/yes-in-fact-i-did-order-fries-with-my.html' title='Yes, In fact I ~did~ order fries with my shake.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-JMttQwIxM/TpeVqWAE5VI/AAAAAAAABec/mpWkiPcyyu8/s72-c/fat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-649368894615699986</id><published>2011-10-12T16:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T16:51:15.286-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No Purchase Necessary</title><content type='html'>Why do companies have to have a "no purchase necessary" clause in their contracts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there is some legal precedence here and I could simply look it up, but I'm like most americans and I'm lazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure someone sued because they declared not getting a "1 in 4 WINS!" game token from some fast food chain without buying something was unconsitutional or something. The place running the contest is trying to generate business by enticing customers to win! win! win!. Yet under some most like idiotic rule, they have to allow non customers to play. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't true for the lotto/powerball. I can't just walking into a 7-11 and say "I'm not going to buy anything, but give me a lottery ticket." I guess that is different though since with the lottery, we are ~buying~ a chance to win with no other deliverable promise of any type of good or service. It's definitivly a gamble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hrm. So I get that reasoning for a lottery, if I'm correct of course. But why do we have to give non customers a chance to win a prize we are giving out in hopes of creating more customers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. Now I'm curious but I don't want to google it in spite. (in spite of what? no idea.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another question. Why do coupons retain a value? (worth 1/27th of a cent). Does that actually mean I can collect coupons and turn them in somewhere for money? Where does the worth come from? Who would reimburse me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-649368894615699986?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=649368894615699986' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/649368894615699986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/649368894615699986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/10/no-purchase-necessary.html' title='No Purchase Necessary'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2047995448122372371</id><published>2011-09-27T13:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T13:32:56.048-06:00</updated><title type='text'>If you can identify with any of the below ...</title><content type='html'>... you most likely have the ability to irritate the hell out of me. (welcome back miss schnarky.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. ~ I've mentioned it before, magicians. I loathe magicians. Not because I can't figure out how they did something. It's because their whole persona is acting like they &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; are, in fact, magical. If they would just say "hey, i got this fucking cool slight of hand thing to show you but I won't tell you how I did it", that would be fine. Instead they act all spooky about it. Case in point - that criss angel guy. (nevermind his annoying way he spells his name) Stop acting so "oooo - i'm MAGIC - look how serious I am. I can't smile because it would throw off my shtick". I actually think a lot of their tricks are cool as hell and I'd love to see them do it, but drop the attitude. We all know you are not a sorcerer. We know it's a trick, hence calling it a magic TRICK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. ~ Auctioneers. Really? Do you actually think talking like that is going to rile the crowd into a frenzy of bidding? Look. I'm going to pay up to x dollars on item y. How quickly the bidding goes up doesn't change the fact I'll spend how much I want to spend. Everytime I hear on of them calling out an auction, I actually get a little pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. ~ The whole "I can't be bothered to put on pants or shoes when I need to venture out in public" thing. Is it really that difficult to slip on a pair of flip flops and some pants? Or are you trying to be a social deviant by not accepting society's rule about how you should dress in public and you show your uniqueness by doing the SAME THING that tens of thousands of other girl do? I'm generalizing this phenomena to woman, mostly teenage and the immature early twenties set. I can't recall ever seeing a boy take part in this fad. Or too many older women for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. ~ Some types of hats worn by boys. Hats are hats and you either like them or you don't. I'm just going to mention my hated top three hat styles. &lt;b&gt;One&lt;/b&gt; - The whole flat brimmed baseball hat. I wear my baseball hat with the brim rounded. There are different versions of this, as I have seen them rounded so much that the brim becomes a tube. But the opposite of that, the flat brimmed hat, um, I guess I just don't get it. The whole point of wearing a baseball hat is to protect your eyes from the sun. Keeping the brim completely flat, so much so it doesn't even fit to your head - there are big holes on either side in between your forehead and the hat - defeats the purpose of the hat almost entirely. The only time this style will shade your eyes is when the sun is directly above you. Even ~if~ you are just wearing it to be fashionable, it just looks like, to me, your hat is too big for your head. &lt;b&gt;Two&lt;/b&gt; - knit hats in any season other than winter. I get it. It's part of the whole anorexic, skinny jeans, emo/punk boy, 80s neon plastic sunglasses look. I'm don't even going to go to the specifics of that look i find overwhelmingly ridiculous. But the winter knit cap? When it's 115 degrees outside? WHY? Can't they think of another hat option for summer? Maybe that's why the flat brimmed hat came from. Who knows. Oh - the other half of this bizarre trend is to wear the cap on the back of the head, leaving the top and sides of hair to frame the face (or completely cover it). &lt;b&gt;Three&lt;/b&gt; - berets. Unless you are Jamie Hyneman, this look is ~not~ good. Hell, even the ARMY pulled the beret from their official uniform. I don't think I have to elaborate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. ~ The whole starbucks vibe. Hey, I ~puffy heart~ my daily quad venti skinny vanilla with 2 splendas. Besides it being more expensive than heroin, I'm totally down with their coffee. It's a sad state of affairs when I walk in and they greet me by name and ask "your usual?". There are still two things about the chain I do not get. &lt;b&gt;One&lt;/b&gt; - The snooty attitude of the staff. This has gotten HUGELY better over the years, but I still run into the occasional cower-before-me-for-I-am-your-god type person. Back in the day before I knew exactly what &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; drink was or ~gasp~ I needed help with the menu, 99% of the employees would act exasperated and roll their eyes over the fact that they had to waste their time while taking an order. Like I said, this attitude as changed quite a bit, but there are still enough of them out there. &lt;b&gt;Two&lt;/b&gt; - I honestly don't understand why so many people hang out there. Sure, meet some friends, drink coffee and talk. I get that. What I don't get is why there are &lt;i&gt;so many&lt;/i&gt; people who hang out there alone to read, do homework or work on their computers. Sure, the "they have free wifi" is somewhat understandable, but really, who doesn't have internet service these days? The reasoning that they need a place to study/read without distraction doesn't really fly - I would think sitting in the middle of a busy as hell coffee shop would be pretty damned distracting. Maybe I'm just missing something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. ~ People who take their job &lt;i&gt;way too&lt;/i&gt; seriously, ie - one of the security guards at my work. It's good to like your job. It's also good to feel important. Unfortunately, with the latter, some people go a little overboard when they put on their security uniform. At my work, you have to display your badge at all times. Okay, fine. A problem occurred when my badge was expired. A new one was issued and it would be sent to me. In the meantime, I had to sign in everyday with security to get a daily temporary badge. Pain in the ass, but okay. Well, one day I came in during the weekend to complete some work. I signed in and went off to do the work I had. When I was leaving, I passed the security station. When I went through the turnstile, my expired badge bleeped. The security guard was suddenly on high alert. "Ma'am, I need to see your badge immediately" he practically shoats at me. I pull my badge's zipline to let the guy see it. "Ma'am, I need for you to remove your badge from its holder" he demands. Okay, um, here it is. "THIS BADGE IS EXPIRED AND I MUST CONFISCATE IT. YOU ARE UNAUTHORIZED TO BE HERE." Whoa. This guy is really serious. Trying to hide my urge to laugh, I try to explain how I already went through security that morning and was granted access. He doesn't care. The only words I hear next through the laughter in my head was "SECURITY BREECH!" and I lost it. My laughter did ~not~ lighten his mood. He was furious. The only thing I could do was backup and head for the door. I'm surprised he didn't run after and tackle me before I made it out the door. I half expected it. I think he has watched a few too many episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. ~ People who view my tattoos as a universal signal for complete strangers to talk to me. The occasional "nice ink" or "who does your work?" comments are fine. You do not need to know what it means to me. How much it cost. The location of my other tattoos. I don't really care what the tattoo you would get looks like. The description of your brother/sister/grandma's tattoo. The reason you would never get a tattoo. I don't need you to pull up your shirt to show me the tattoo your clothing is hiding for good reason. And for once and for all, Yes, some of them hurt while some of them did not. Yes - they ARE real. I quite literally get asked if my tattoos are real all the damned time. Who the fuck would color both of their arms with a sharpie everyday? Most tattoos are meant to be displayed and will spark conversation. But for goodness sake, think before you speak. Just because I see someone ahead of me in line is wearing jeans doesn't give me cart blanche to ask them what size they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. ~ Drivers who are so scared of cops, they refuse to drive fast enough to pass one, even when the cop is driving WAY UNDER the speed limit. I actually think this would be fun if I was a cop. I can guarantee I would play this game with the general public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This list goes to eight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2047995448122372371?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2047995448122372371' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2047995448122372371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2047995448122372371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/09/if-you-can-identify-with-any-of-below.html' title='If you can identify with any of the below ...'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4248459785036536378</id><published>2011-09-18T10:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T10:47:23.750-06:00</updated><title type='text'>i just got back from skateboarding.</title><content type='html'>guess what? I'm no longer 18 years old. damn it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4248459785036536378?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4248459785036536378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4248459785036536378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4248459785036536378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-just-got-back-from-skateboarding.html' title='i just got back from skateboarding.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4596798891464266433</id><published>2011-08-08T14:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T14:27:23.860-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You. Have. To. Be. Joking.</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged in awhile because &lt;list_excuses&gt;work, kids, leprosy, alien abduction &lt;/list_excuses&gt;. But I have something to be schnarky about. I doubt anyone will really care about this either, but oh well, I gotta start somehow right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work for a company that has about 45,000 union employees. This weekend, that union decided to strike until the company bends to their demands. Hrm. Isn't this really just a 'legal' extortion technique? I mean really, I don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me explain a little background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Union employees 1) make a shit ton of money 2) they get an incredible benefits package. ie: they don't pay a dime for medical. 3) They get much more paid sick time that we do. 4) A great pension plan. 5) they are almost un-fire able.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The union's contract was up and my company decided to use the collective bargaining time to renegotiate the contract. My company offered a benefits package to these 45,000 workers that MATCHES what the other 135,000 employees receive. Seems fair, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently it's not okay. These union employees think they deserve much much much more than their COWORKERS get. I haven't heard the union workers try to get the company to agree to offer US a better benefits package. No. No I haven't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My company is fighting back. It started a couple months ago when a strike was on the horizon. A huge group of IT employees were tagged to get trained so we could do their job. The training was 2 weeks. (FIOS installation, climbing poles, etc etc.) Am I wrong to assume then that their positions are completely replaceable with ~only~ two weeks of training? My company already has the next two groups ready to be deployed so we can work in rotations. It's hilarious. Software engineers are being taught how to do their jobs in a measly two week training session.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the first day the temporary workers had to cross the picket lines. And it's not been peachy from what my friends are reporting.I want to make a t-shirt for all of us that says on the front "Guess what? You're replaceable" and on the back, which picketers will see after the lines were crossed, "See?". Beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say "fuck em". You don't want to have the exact same benefits package the company gives to the other 75% of the company? Leave. We don't need you. Last time I looked, we have an employment shortage here in the Unites States. I'm ~sure~ we can find another 45,000 workers. And hell, after only 2 weeks of training, they'll be ready to take over your job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're replaceable. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(btw, i get why unions were first developed. Working conditions needed to be regulated. But in today's day and age? Not so much. You don't like the hours? Quit. You don't like the benefits package, leave. This is all about pure and simple greed. Stop thinking you are entitled. You're not.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4596798891464266433?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4596798891464266433' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4596798891464266433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4596798891464266433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/08/you-have-to-be-joking.html' title='You. Have. To. Be. Joking.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4083931632820062408</id><published>2011-07-15T16:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T16:36:22.004-06:00</updated><title type='text'>dealth of kurt. flash. the 27 club.</title><content type='html'>kurt cobain died 17 years ago. FUCKING 17 years ago. That's ridiculous. My brain can't even get around the 17 years. I remember when I heard. I was in my office (job i had during college) and I just the door and just sat in silence. i was pissed. very very angry. how could he leave us? and then it hit me that he was in the fucking 27 club which he used to say he wanted in on. 27 was just too young. (look it up if you don't know what the 27 club is) .I was only 5 years younger than him. 22. my age when i considerer someone smart enough to be called an adult is 25. he was 2 past that and i was 3 years too young. it broke my heart. and it still breaks my heart. let's see... later on, i guess i wanted to live like him and did the hip H addiction too. I could understand the wanting to die. the apathy of dealth. but he meant someone to me. to many of us. and i can still cry today over that overbearing loss. my heart breaks for courtney fuck you if you don't like her. she loved him. he loved her. she gave him a gorgeous baby that is francis bean. my heart breaks for her too. to not be able to ~have~ her dad when he was so, so. what. amazing. the right words won't come. i hope your energy has reevolved kurt. you were one of this world's greatest losses. god damn it. i'm glad i met him the stupid ass times i did at early shows. but i kick myself in the ass for an invite i couldn't take when i would be with francis bean's nanny at a show. a show very close to the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway - the death of ryan dunn has opened my wound for kurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i just found out my first tattoo artist died recently. fuck. death sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm bringing back the grunge flannel wearing. i'm wearing one over a wife beater right now. go 90s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you kurt. i miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4083931632820062408?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4083931632820062408' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4083931632820062408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4083931632820062408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/07/dealth-of-kurt-flash-27-club.html' title='dealth of kurt. flash. the 27 club.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2240100355747155468</id><published>2011-06-20T14:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T14:56:41.386-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rest in Peace Ryan.</title><content type='html'>You were my favorite jackass. Of course the world would take you first although all of you tempted fate. (not that i wanted someone else to go first).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i will mis you ryan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2240100355747155468?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2240100355747155468' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2240100355747155468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2240100355747155468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/06/rest-in-peace-ryan.html' title='Rest in Peace Ryan.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4738373035704074627</id><published>2011-06-13T16:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T17:08:44.366-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The "I'm a jackass" hand wave.</title><content type='html'>We have all had moments of being a jackass driver. We may accidentally cut someone off. Sometimes we try to change lanes without looking first and almost side swipe someone. Maybe we brake too hard when a turn comes sooner than we first expected, making the car behind us have to slam on their brakes. Of course, if you aren't a ridiculously stupid driver, these moments are far and few between of one another. All I'm trying to get at is it happens to all of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I make a jackass move while driving, I immediately throw my arm up in the air or out the window, waving the "I'm a moron" international sign to the car I accidentally screwed over. When another driver makes a dumbass decision which affects me, all they have to do is show me their own "I'm a jackass" hand wave. If they do this, all is immediately forgiven. They did something stupid, they realized it and most importantly, they admitted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is another hand gesture that should be given when you want to say "thank you" to another driver. If you slow down to let someone into traffic or in your lane. It should be given when you appreciate that a driver did something for you. It looks exactly like the "I'm a jackass" hand wave. Very simple and meaningful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you use these gestures? It really bugs the hell out of me when others don't use them. Especially when it should be done because I went out of my way for another driver. It's common courtesy I say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4738373035704074627?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4738373035704074627' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4738373035704074627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4738373035704074627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-jackass-hand-wave.html' title='The &quot;I&apos;m a jackass&quot; hand wave.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-7627706695883971138</id><published>2011-06-09T15:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T16:10:32.427-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Germs.</title><content type='html'>Let me preface this that I'm not a howard hughes type of non functioning germ aphobics. But I do have my fair share of things that flip me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In no particular order...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. using a public telephone. Who knows what kind of spittle came out on the receiver?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Elevator buttons. I mean, how often to you see someone clean them? And the tens of thoughsands of people who touch them each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Using smoeone elses head set to talk on the phone. How much wax do you think is saturated in the earpiece?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. A keyboard on computer in a public place. This goes with and other office suplies you may be forced to use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. sink handles. I wash my hands with soap and water, but I dodn't want tp touch the faceut handle. I mean, hell - the reason people turn these on is because their hands are dirty after going to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Speaking of, watching someone walk out of the backroom without washing. I tend to say "missing something" as they walk out. That person will for always gross me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. How could I forget?? The worst one for me is using the pen (or stylus) at the counter of the pharmacy. This people are actually sick and then we use the exact same pen they use in to pickup their perscriptions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Toilet splashing. You are going #2 in a puclic place and whatever you drop out, makes a splash. NOW all of the toilet water sprays onto your butt. This may be one of the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Don't touch ~my~ bathtowel. Please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Nope, in my head, this triumphs over #7. Using earphones after anybody else. It's obviously worse if you didn't know this person, but uuuhhhgggg. It makes me shudder. Ear Wax is nasty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-7627706695883971138?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=7627706695883971138' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7627706695883971138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7627706695883971138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/06/germs.html' title='Germs.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6410062280497150711</id><published>2011-06-06T07:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T07:09:54.438-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And the survey says ...</title><content type='html'>It was a trick question, they all happened to me in the last month. I can't believe so many of you quessed it right!! Heh. And I thought I was being all sneaky too! You guys know me too well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6410062280497150711?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6410062280497150711' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6410062280497150711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6410062280497150711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/06/and-survey-says.html' title='And the survey says ...'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-5496071786942162551</id><published>2011-06-03T16:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T16:42:40.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'>suck my jolly rancher.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mmmmmm&lt;/span&gt;. Jolly ranchers. The guy who site next to me at work has a huge fishbowl full of them. And it made me realize I have no will power when it comes to free candy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I want to conduct a little poll. Please give your answer in the comments...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;craptastic&lt;/span&gt; event in the following list has ~not~ happened to me in the past month or so?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. I developed a case of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;infantigo&lt;/span&gt;, most &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;common&lt;/span&gt; in children, or folliculitis (on my chin, cheek and upper lip) which then blossomed into a huge Staph A infection. I had to take 5 different antibiotics (including IV antis) until it finally started to respond after having to hide out from the public for two weeks, just so I wouldn't be mistaken for a leper. The blisters formed in each and every hair follicle in clusters of sores that were not only bright red, they were painful. The blisters were very unstable, just brushing up against them would make them seep with fluid, which didn't allow me to even try to cover them up with a little concealer. I was mortified and stayed in the house for almost two weeks, in which it finally began to heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B. I crashed my car because I swerved to avoid hitting a dog in the road. My tires caught the curb and launched my car up diagonally into a telephone pole. I went for a ride in an ambulance to the ER to take &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;xrays&lt;/span&gt; of my neck, which was injured in the accident. I lost about 16 hours of my life due to a concussion. I don't remember leaving work that day, the scene of the aftermath of the accident, the police, the paramedics, the ambulance ride, the hospital, or coming home from hospital. To make matters worse, I got a ticket for careless driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C. While petting a stray cat who has been in my neighborhood for years, suddenly decided he had enough petting and bit me on the wrist. I thought nothing of it until a golf ball lump appeared. The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;penicillin&lt;/span&gt; I self prescribed didn't seem to be working. It progressed even further, the infection now taking over from below my wrist bone to the bottom of my thumb. It was hot to the touch and I lost all elasticity in my skin - if pushed down on it with my finger (and endure the massive pain that came with touching it), it reacted like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;playdough&lt;/span&gt;, leaving an actual indentation in the skin. I went to urgent care where I received 2 shots of antibiotics in the hip, a Rx for an oral med and an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;antibiotic&lt;/span&gt; topical cream. The infection calmed down and went away, but left me with nerve damage from tip of thumb to wrist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D. I got kicked out of girl scouts (I was a leader) because I stuck up for my ~entire~ troop, instead of rewarding just a few girls. The bank account was in my name and I refused to spend most of the money on summer camp for only 4-5 girls. The moms wanted to use the money for ~their~ girls because on average, they sold the most girl scout cookies for the troop. The thing is, the money we get from that should benefit everyone, not just the top sellers. Well, the mothers of those girls flipped out and called the girl scout council to try to get me kicked out as a leader, which would give them access to the bank account to do what they wanted. Everything I did was to make it fair for ALL girls, and to not be bullied my a group of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jr&lt;/span&gt; high acting mothers. They made up huge stories about me and the girl scout council forced me to resign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, take a guess as to which one did NOT happen to me. Good luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try to guess! Good luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-5496071786942162551?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=5496071786942162551' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5496071786942162551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5496071786942162551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/06/suck-my-jolly-rancher.html' title='suck my jolly rancher.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-7005149061251326678</id><published>2011-03-02T21:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:39:10.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It has all been washed.</title><content type='html'>In thinking about my last post, I skeeved myself out and washed every piece of my lingerie that was hand washable. Even though I only wore some of those two minute pieces for literally under a dozen or so minutes in their lifetime, it all went in for a good handwashing cycle. (I ~did~ always wash the panties by the way, I made it sound as if those didn&amp;#39;t get washed!). The only items I have left to be cleaned are the real lacy bustiers (spelling?) that need to be dry cleaned, but they are in the pile to go in the next trip.&lt;p&gt;There. I feel all clean. &lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-7005149061251326678?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=7005149061251326678' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7005149061251326678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7005149061251326678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/03/it-has-all-been-washed.html' title='It has all been washed.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2390009962836779916</id><published>2011-02-28T23:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T23:14:27.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three types of lingerie.</title><content type='html'>The way I figure it, there are three types of lingerie.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;1.  Your everyday bras and panties. The ones you wear to work or under your casual clothes. I don&amp;#39;t have &amp;quot;period panties&amp;quot; per se, I simply wear my everyday panties, so I guess those would fit into this category.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;2.  Special underwear. The type you&amp;#39;d wear under an outfit when you are going on a date. Or under something sexy. These usually are matching bra &amp;amp; panty sets. This also includes the little outfits you&amp;#39;d wear to bed when you are feeling feminine.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;3.  &amp;quot;Two Minute&amp;quot; pieces. These are the ultra sexy little numbers you put on for your partner. You wear these when you &amp;#39;want some&amp;#39; and it would be a rarity if you didn&amp;#39;t get it. These are named so because when you out them on and you reveal yourself in it, you only wear it for another two minutes, at the most, before it&amp;#39;s torn off your body.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I just changed into one of my two minute pieces and walked out into the living room, where my hubby was sitting on the couch watching Top Gear on TV. As I was picking up the pieces off the floor awhile later, I realized I had never had that particular outfit dry cleaned in the many years I have owned it. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Do you think it&amp;#39;s necessary to clean underwear you have worn for no longer than two minutes? Also, did I miss any lingerie categories?&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2390009962836779916?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2390009962836779916' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2390009962836779916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2390009962836779916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/02/three-types-of-lingerie.html' title='Three types of lingerie.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-7671998984027293581</id><published>2011-02-26T10:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T10:58:07.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twenty three inches</title><content type='html'>The mountain got 23&amp;quot; in the last 24 hours. I&amp;#39;m heading up to the mountain now. Yahoo!&lt;p&gt;I ~love~ snowboarding!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-7671998984027293581?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=7671998984027293581' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7671998984027293581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7671998984027293581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/02/twenty-three-inches.html' title='Twenty three inches'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-45147029710020119</id><published>2011-02-22T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T21:23:06.002-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My life.</title><content type='html'>Jeez Loise. My life has been hectic.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I still have three packages sitting here of clothes I need to send out. I still have four boxes of shirts I have to go through for a 4th person who wants clothes sent out to them. I still have a package of two cans of similac sitting here to send out. (I still have 1 can of enfamil unclaimed. If you want it, let me know!)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;All I have done is take care of little sickos (read my other blog for those details), which is a job in itself. I disinfected my entire house, using an entire large can of lysol, spraying every surface imaginable that the kids have and would touch. I did seven loads of laundry, washing every bit of clothing, every bed sheet, every comforter, every stuffed animal they may have touched. I cleaned all the toothbrushes in boiling water, with a replacement purchased, waiting the 36-48 hours after starting antibiotics. I washed every single toy in a bleach bath, then thoroughly rinsed everything to make sure there isn&amp;#39;t any bleach residue. As for me? I haven&amp;#39;t even showered since Sunday. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A little good news... I was contacted today via cell phone (couldn&amp;#39;t answer because I was with the pediatrician) and then via email from a job recruiter who had seen my resume. She has a 1 year contract position open that pays $35 - 40 per hour, depending on experience. A job not only I can do, but a job I am great at. She wanted to interview me, so I replied back I am available all day tomorrow for said interview. I am crossing my fingers in that she calls tomorrow ~and~ that she likes me enough to get a second interview with the employers themselves.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Things ~may~ be looking up!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-45147029710020119?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=45147029710020119' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/45147029710020119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/45147029710020119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-life.html' title='My life.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-7890741433816981204</id><published>2011-02-17T18:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T18:23:20.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Formula giveaway.</title><content type='html'>I posted about a few cans of formula I have to give away on my other blog (listed in my profile) and no one has responded. If you are interested, take a look.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-7890741433816981204?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=7890741433816981204' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7890741433816981204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7890741433816981204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/02/formula-giveaway.html' title='Formula giveaway.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-3033668208892016889</id><published>2011-02-14T01:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T01:25:21.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a great weekend!</title><content type='html'>It didn&amp;#39;t start out too great, Allison got pretty sick (I will update my other blog with the details) but it soon took a turn for the better.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I spent the day saturday snowboarding. Tom&amp;#39;s dad took ella for the first few hours (allie didn&amp;#39;t go because she was sick) so tom and I rode by ourselves. It was fabulous. We rode together and took a bunch of pictures, not caring that we looked dorky taking them. We spent our time together riding on the snow without a care in the world. The conditions were perfect. A shit ton of snow had fallen recently so the snow we were riding on was more than fabulous. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Okay, where was I? I had to save this post in my drafts folder because my hubby wanted to give me an early Valentine&amp;#39;s day &amp;quot;present. We started well before the stroke (heh) of midnight and we finished 10 minutes into the official beginning of the day. Happy Valentine&amp;#39;s day to us indeed! Wow. It was amazing. I&amp;#39;m still all tingly. Don&amp;#39;t you just love it when you have mind blowing sex? I talked dirty during the whole time and I must say .. It. Was. Good. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Back to my story...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So tom and I had a great time riding together. The snow was perfect and the weather was warm. I had on my snowboard pants, a t shirt and only my jacket shell. It made me think of how we were before we had kids. And then it got even better.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;We wen over to the bunny hill to find Ella and her grandpa. We found her just as she had decided it was time to bite the bullet and go to the top of the mountain and tackle the whole mountain.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tom rode with her on the chair lift and I rode with my father in law. When we got ready to ride down, Ella took off with no fear. So after a great time riding with my husband, I got the pleasure of riding with my daughter. How could it be any better?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Happy Valentine&amp;#39;s Day! ~kisses~ &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-3033668208892016889?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=3033668208892016889' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3033668208892016889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3033668208892016889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-great-weekend.html' title='What a great weekend!'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4409530273543778677</id><published>2011-02-08T17:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T17:59:36.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it too much to ask?</title><content type='html'>Is it too much to ask clothes companies to come up with a standard of sizing? I just went through my 50+ pairs of jeans, cords, chinos and dress pants. I&amp;#39;m a solid size 6 and you&amp;#39;d think it would be as easy as sorting out the sizes. But noooo. Some size 6&amp;#39;s were falling off me and some were so tight it gave me a muffin top. &lt;p&gt;So now my closet has a few size 2&amp;#39;s (ok, that number just makes me giddy so I don&amp;#39;t mind those!), a bunch of size 4&amp;#39;s and 6&amp;#39;s, and a couple size 8&amp;#39;s. Really? Please explain how I can be a size 2 and a size 8 at the same time. It&amp;#39;s not the fit either, because I like and wear the basic same fit/style with all my pants. &lt;p&gt;I just packed away two boxes. A very small box labeled &amp;quot;too small&amp;quot; and a huge box labeled &amp;quot;too big&amp;quot;. The big box has lots of pants I needed during my transition phases before and after maternity, so I doubt I will have to delve into those again. If any of you would like to get some new pants, sizes 10-14, let me know and I will ship them out to you free of charge. They are all in great condition. I have mostly jeans and different colored chinos, gap, old navy and jcrew. If you are interested, leave a comment here or drop me an email, my addy is in my profile.&lt;p&gt;Oh, I also have a ton of &amp;quot;work&amp;quot; tops - buttoned down 3/4 sleeved. All sizes. I can&amp;#39;t use them anymore due to me being full sleeved now. So they all are now up for grab. &lt;p&gt;It is so nice being all organized. I have all my summer things stored away in my wardrobe hanger in my garage, all put away nicely in plastic. My closet now consists of only my winter wardrobe and the best thing? Everything FITS. No more sifting through tons of clothes that don&amp;#39;t fit right or I simply didn&amp;#39;t wear. My god. I bought a lot of clothes when I used to have the money. Funny how things change when you lose a well paying job. Oh the money I wasted! That&amp;#39;s over now. I only buy things I ~need~ AND things I not only like, but things I know I will actually get some use out of.&lt;p&gt;Did you know jcrew is not made for women with breasts? I&amp;#39;m only a 32/34 C and lots of shirts that fit great everywhere else, the buttons are strained to fit over my chest. That&amp;#39;s ridiculous. I feel for you ladies out there who are larger than a C cup. The problems you must go through to find proper fitting shirts.&lt;p&gt;Remember, drop me a line of you are interested in any of my clothes. Tell me what size you are looking for and I will get back to you with exactly what I have available. I would much rather give them away to a good home in our IF community than send them off to goodwill or sell them for a few bucks at my upcoming Spring garage sale. &lt;p&gt;Speaking of garage sales ... Have you ever given away something to someone, only to find out they sold it in their own garage sale or on eBay? I have had that happen to me before and it is irritating as all hell. Look, if what I gave you didn&amp;#39;t work out, give it back so I can recoup some of my money. It&amp;#39;s simple &amp;#233;ttiquate. I think some people are born without that gene. That or they are just assholes. ~wink~ &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4409530273543778677?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4409530273543778677' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4409530273543778677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4409530273543778677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/02/is-it-too-much-to-ask.html' title='Is it too much to ask?'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-601456532752467168</id><published>2011-02-03T23:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T23:46:22.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is that all you have to talk about? The weather?</title><content type='html'>Nah. But it has been interesting. Like the fact it is going to be 82 degrees ~warmer~ here tomorrow than it was three days prior.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Okay, that&amp;#39;s a little bit of a lie. I&amp;#39;m using the windchill temps instead of the real temp. It only got down to -17 degrees, not the -36 degree windchill. But I looked up what the windchill really means so I&amp;#39;m understanding it more. I guess 53 degrees is more accurate. Whatever temp you use is still a big jump though.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Right before Xmas, I injured by shoulder incredibly bad. Sparing you all the details, I was bedridden for four days. I was going to go to the hospital when on the 4th day of the worst of it, I was suddenly relieved of what we think was a severely pinched nerve. It took my pain level of a 9+ down to a 7. It was still horrible, but I could manage a 7 after that such a pain level. Over five or six weeks, it is finally getting better. Whoa. That was hardcore. It was the worst pain I have ever dealt with, only second to a natural childbirth. But with childbirth, there was an ending to it sooner or later. Damn. It almost got the better of me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Anywho, I think everything is finally better and I end up with a toothache. I went to the dentist today only to find out I need a complete root canal. Awesome, huh? Would you expect any less from me? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So, I think I am going to have to declare reader bankruptcy and start trying to get caught up with the blogs that I read. Until I can get that done, can you give me a little update if you got one? I hate to think that I really missed out on some important news out there.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I have missed you!!!&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-601456532752467168?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=601456532752467168' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/601456532752467168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/601456532752467168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/02/is-that-all-you-have-to-talk-about.html' title='Is that all you have to talk about? The weather?'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4362323248025906523</id><published>2011-02-01T12:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T12:32:59.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy moly.</title><content type='html'>I just went to get gas. I knew it was cold, but the sky was clear and it was nice and sunny, so it didn&amp;#39;t look that bad.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I wore cords, shirt, sweater, winter coat, gloves, hat and a scarf. I let my car run for 20 minutes before I left to get it warmed up. But when we got in the car, it was still cold. By the time it took me to run my bard through the pump, select grade, get the pump into my car, to start it running on automatic and then to hustle back into my car until the tank was full, my pants had frozen and my fingers were numb through my gloves.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I brought up &lt;a href="http://weather.com"&gt;weather.com&lt;/a&gt; on my phone and the temp was -12 with the windchill sitting at -36.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;NEGATIVE 36.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Dude. I have never dealt with this type of cold. Holy shit.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;As I was driving back home after a quick errand, the car&amp;#39;s temp needle finally rose a fraction of an inch above cold to start running the heat a tad bit. The time it took my car to warm up with constant running? 39 minutes. That&amp;#39;s insane.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4362323248025906523?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4362323248025906523' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4362323248025906523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4362323248025906523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/02/holy-moly.html' title='Holy moly.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-8915995146588806974</id><published>2011-01-31T20:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T20:10:35.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's getting hot in here ...</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend, we were in the 60&amp;#39;s here in colorado. What temps for January! But tomorrow? The ~high~ will be -3 with an expected windchill of -17. I know many parts of the nation knows this kind of cold, but not me! Apparently not the schools either. I spoke to the principal today and he is expecting to close the school tomorrow. &lt;p&gt;Where is my hot chocolate?&lt;p&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-8915995146588806974?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=8915995146588806974' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8915995146588806974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8915995146588806974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/01/its-getting-hot-in-here.html' title='It&apos;s getting hot in here ...'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-5759934005316272563</id><published>2011-01-30T17:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T17:08:33.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The job search dull drums.</title><content type='html'>Dude.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Can I say that again? Dude.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Looking for a job right now sucks the big one. I went to a job fair for IBM last week and thousands of people showed up. I got there around 1:30 for the open house running from 10a - 4p. There were about 150 people ahead of me in line, and that was just to get into the event. Once inside, there were hundreds more packed into a banquet room, waiting for a chance at a five minute interview.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But I never even made it inside. When I made it to the front of the line, my resume was looked over and they found I had no public sector experience, only private. So I was sent packing.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I went to another job fair this week for multiple companies, the main one being Lockheed Martin. Again, once at the front of the line, 1 1/2 hours later, I was told they are only hiring people with secret clearances. Awesome. Thanks for advertising that.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I can&amp;#39;t just go and get any job either. After school care for the girls will cost $250 each month. Full time daycare for Karl will cost about $1,200 per month. Plus, to cover bills, I will need to be making about $600 every two weeks on top of that. So unless I make at least $1450 every two weeks. And that&amp;#39;s take home. Ugh.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Universe? I need some help here. Please?&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-5759934005316272563?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=5759934005316272563' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5759934005316272563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5759934005316272563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/01/job-search-dull-drums.html' title='The job search dull drums.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2837143811652946970</id><published>2011-01-08T16:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-08T16:51:51.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A favor I humbly ask of you.</title><content type='html'>I'm going to "sticky" this note here for a little while, hoping to get more comments over a bit of time ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(If you don't want to read me explain ad nauseam about the whys of my favor, just skip to the bottom.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it goes. After many empty declarations on my part to start reading blogs again, I have failed to do it. WHY? It's because of the one thing that would &lt;i&gt;seem&lt;/i&gt; like THE most helpful aspect of picking up where I left off ... My Reader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My reader has, let's see, 325 blogs waiting for me. Everytime I try, I not only get overwhelmed, but I don't feel "at home" with the blogs. It takes forever minutes of back reading to determine what the blogger is blogging about. And that's if I even remember the blogger. I was adding so many blogs at the end, I just don't recollect who everyone even is anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ~loved~ when I was able to share in the joys and be there for the not-so-joys. And I want to do that again. The best place I can see to start is deleting ~all~ of the blogs within my reader. Start reading blogs based upon your input, and THEN start adding new blogs as I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I obviously need YOU to do is if you would allow &lt;i&gt;ME&lt;/&gt; to read &lt;i&gt;YOUR&lt;/i&gt; blog, I would love if you would comment. If your profile (from comments) lists your blog (a single one), you don't need anything to do besides just leaving a comment about anything at all. Tell me your favorite flavor of soup or something. But please, comment. If you have a profile that lists multiple blogs OR it's not available in your profile, list it for me in the comments section? (If you want your comment deleted after I get the blog url, just let me know).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to start reading the blogs of those who I am lucky enough to have swing by &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; blog to start with. Then, I'll get more blogs like I used to - just by reading reading comments on my friend's blogs and liking their word style. This is so I can add a title comment in my reader as to who I "met" this person from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;c&gt;if you skipped this post&lt;/b&gt; because you didn't want to read my ramblings, start reading again! ~wink~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/c&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLEASE! Leave me a comment with your blog URL so I can add you to my reader!&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2837143811652946970?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2837143811652946970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2837143811652946970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2837143811652946970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2011/01/favor-i-humbly-ask-of-you.html' title='A favor I humbly ask of you.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4787905670550143997</id><published>2010-12-10T23:13:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T23:33:50.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nancy unplugged</title><content type='html'>I guess I shouldn't just disappear like that. Sorry for worrying anyone. I've simply just unplugged from a few things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Internet - blogging, email, facebook, surfing&lt;br /&gt;Cell Phone - 98% of texting, 75% of phone calls. I'm not ignoring calls, but I've stopped carrying my cell phone with me most of the time. If I'm out, I have it on me, but if I'm at home or with the family, I just don't have it with me. And I've always been horrible about returning phone calls, so not carrying my phone with me has just made it 1,000 times worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'll just be for awhile longer, probably until after Christmas, so I ~will~ be back. All is well with me, I just needed to get back to my roots with my husband and children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is really going on with me for the most part. Let me see ...&lt;br /&gt;~ I went and visited my best friend in Phoenix last month. It was great.&lt;br /&gt;~ I'm really starting to focus on my job search. I must have a job by January end.&lt;br /&gt;~ My husband and I are doing very well. We're happy.&lt;br /&gt;~ Ella is amazing me with her reading and writing skills. She learned how to do both in Kindergarten, but she can read almost anything now and her handwriting is unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;~ Allison is following in her sister's footsteps in learning things at school. The one thing she doesn't have from her sister is her behavior in school. Allison stays on green light every day, in fact, she has only gone to yellow light one time this year, which was just the other day. I got her yellow card write up and it said "Kissed a boy". Ha. I hope that's not starting this early, but we got a good laugh out of it now!&lt;br /&gt;~ Karl has finally started talking! He only said a few words up until a month or so ago, but recently, it has exploded. He can say dozens and dozens of words now and he'll repeat any word you ask him to say. It's so awesome. His pediatrician had said he will need to start speech therapy if he wasn't talking by age two, so he started it up two months before he turns two. Whew! Had me worried there for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;~ I'm done with my weight loss kick. I was doing really well and actually, I accidentally lost too much weight. I got down to 118, which is just too skinny, so I gained 7 lbs back. I'm now sitting at 125 which is where I want to stay. I can fit into my size 4s now, (size 2 in gap! But I know how the gap and old navy sizes their clothes too big. A size 2 at those stores really mean size 4. But there is something about seeing that number which makes me smile!) I hope I'm able to maintain my current weight. Losing it isn't hard, it's the maintaining that is the real battle!&lt;br /&gt;~ Due to my unplugging, I have lost some contact with some of my friends, which really bums me out. But I'm going to try my hardest to rekindle what relationships I may have missed out on. Besides family, friends are what is really most important, and I certainly don't want to lose that. I hope they will be able to find it in their hearts to forgive my distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it! Thanks for all the emails, texts and phone messages many of you have left for me. I've tried to return many of them, but I'm sure there are some I missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm not back yet, I hope everyone has a great holiday season!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4787905670550143997?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4787905670550143997' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4787905670550143997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4787905670550143997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/12/nancy-unplugged.html' title='Nancy unplugged'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4301432340635728176</id><published>2010-10-29T19:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T19:54:54.860-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pop tarts are evil.</title><content type='html'>First I had one spontaneously burst into flames last year that almost burned down my kitchen. Tonight I was cooking one for Allison and had the molten lava filling poor onto my finger, giving me a huge blister.&lt;p&gt;Maybe karma is coming back at me for the things I&amp;#39;ve said recently! &lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4301432340635728176?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4301432340635728176' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4301432340635728176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4301432340635728176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/pop-tarts-are-evil.html' title='Pop tarts are evil.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-267125484803093691</id><published>2010-10-28T20:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T21:51:01.691-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner.</title><content type='html'>I just had the ~best~ dinner. It started off with a giant plate of spaghetti, with some awesome grated parmigiano reggiano smothering the top of the homemade saude (no jar sauce for us.) Then I had myself a whole lobster tail, dripping in melted butter. &lt;p&gt;Anything dipped in melted butter tastes scrumptious, but the lobster was over the top. Yum! &lt;p&gt;What did you have for dinner tonight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-267125484803093691?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=267125484803093691' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/267125484803093691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/267125484803093691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/dinner.html' title='Dinner.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6714997463454832640</id><published>2010-10-25T17:58:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T17:58:43.863-06:00</updated><title type='text'>First one.</title><content type='html'>Its snowing. Gotta love fall in colorado!&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6714997463454832640?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6714997463454832640' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6714997463454832640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6714997463454832640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/first-one.html' title='First one.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6186516051050974111</id><published>2010-10-16T13:35:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T13:35:34.327-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Magazines and strip clubs.</title><content type='html'>Does it bother you if your husband reads nudie magazines? What about going to strip clubs?&lt;p&gt;None of it bothers me at all. I guess if he was going to strip clubs ~all~ the time, it&amp;#39;d be a different story, but the occasional strip club with the boys, I&amp;#39;m all good with.&lt;p&gt;I do have a silly rule when it comes to strip clubs though. There is a no sex rule when he comes home. I guess I just don&amp;#39;t like the idea he&amp;#39;d be thinking of some stripper when having sex with me, so there is a one night waiting period. I don&amp;#39;t think that&amp;#39;s too much to ask.&lt;p&gt;So what about you? Are you cool with nudie magazines and strip clubs?&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6186516051050974111?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6186516051050974111' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6186516051050974111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6186516051050974111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/magazines-and-strip-clubs.html' title='Magazines and strip clubs.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1431582037481076168</id><published>2010-10-14T22:07:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T22:07:38.630-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Magazines.</title><content type='html'>What magazines do you subscribe to?&lt;p&gt;Mine are: &lt;br&gt;~ life and style (brain candy)&lt;br&gt;~ cosmopolitan&lt;br&gt;~ money (gift from my dad)&lt;br&gt;~ parenting &lt;br&gt;~ playboy &lt;br&gt;~ sports illustrated (for my hubby)&lt;br&gt;~ rolling stone &lt;br&gt;~ maxim &lt;p&gt;Wow. That&amp;#39;s quite a bit. And I recently chose not to renew glamour, espn and better homes &amp;amp; gardens.&lt;p&gt;Now it&amp;#39;s your turn to tell me what mags you get.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1431582037481076168?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1431582037481076168' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1431582037481076168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1431582037481076168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/magazines.html' title='Magazines.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1650177327611071431</id><published>2010-10-14T00:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T00:07:02.582-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Odds and ends.</title><content type='html'>~ I had a sliver on the ball of m left foot and it hurt everytime I walked. So I fit it out with a needle and I actually got that little sucker! But now I have a wound from all the needle digging and it hurts worse now than before. Awesome.&lt;p&gt;~ Did I mention our pathfinder got vandalized a few weeks ago? The little window behind the passenger&amp;#39;s back window was smashed in with something. The door was still locked and nothing in the car was stolen. So we think it was just pure vandalism. With insurance, it cost us $281 to get it fixed.&lt;p&gt;~ The streetlight at the end of our driveway has been out for months (and we think the darkness had a play in the vandalism). Our neighbors across the street called the utility people and found out it was one of the lights that would no longer be maintained due to budget costs. If we wanted it turned back on, we would have to pay a fee of $75. So we are splitting the cost and our light is back on.&lt;p&gt;~ Insomnia has been kicking my ass recently. I just can&amp;#39;t seem to get to sleep at a reasonable time. It sucks. But once I do fall asleep, I will generally stay asleep. Which is huge for me.&lt;p&gt;~  I tackled the laundry this week and for now, I win. All clothes, sheets, towels, blanket and floor carpets have been washed, dried and put away. As of now there is nothing in our hampers. Go me!&lt;p&gt;~ I&amp;#39;ve had a crazy sweet tooth the past couple days. I&amp;#39;ve been eating hot tamales and hershey chocolate bars. Getting AF by surprise tonight probably has something to do with it.&lt;p&gt;~ My favorite number is 25. I count all the time while I&amp;#39;m waiting for anything. Like a commercial break to end. A stoplight to change. The phone to ring. I think it&amp;#39;s a touch of OCD.&lt;p&gt;~ I&amp;#39;m pretty sick right now. My throat hurts and my head is draining out my nose and down my throat. Yes, I know. It&amp;#39;s crazily sexy. Don&amp;#39;t deny it.&lt;p&gt;~ It&amp;#39;s midnight right now and I&amp;#39;m sitting in bed, blogging, and sharing a lollipop with karl. He woke up covered in puke so after washing him up, he is wife awake.&lt;p&gt;~ I&amp;#39;m in love with the food channel. I love all the shows.&lt;p&gt;~ My favorite pizza is extra cheese, ham, mushrooms and uncooked tomatoes. What&amp;#39;s yours?&lt;p&gt;~ I had to google the difference between it&amp;#39;s and its. The general rule is if you can replace it&amp;#39;s with it is, the from of it&amp;#39;s is used. I think I&amp;#39;ve gotten that wrong for years.&lt;p&gt;~ Okay, time to go and focus on the boy. I hope he gets tired enough for bedtime soon. My eyes are burning.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1650177327611071431?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1650177327611071431' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1650177327611071431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1650177327611071431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/odds-and-ends.html' title='Odds and ends.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2531723811102309067</id><published>2010-10-13T14:12:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T14:12:41.519-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Drivers</title><content type='html'>Why is it that I seem to get behind people who don&amp;#39;t realize they should pull up in the intersection when they re trying to turn left? When the light turns yellow, they don&amp;#39;t go, instead just stay where they are through an entire light cycle. Seriously, who knows not to do this?&lt;p&gt;That&amp;#39;s the problem with living in a smallish city. People don&amp;#39;t have enough practice driving in traffic. I wish it was legal to gently push a car by their bumper to get them moving. I&amp;#39;d be pushing people left and right.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2531723811102309067?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2531723811102309067' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2531723811102309067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2531723811102309067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/drivers.html' title='Drivers'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1083241874610505772</id><published>2010-10-12T17:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T17:00:52.457-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I talked to the neighbors.</title><content type='html'>I saw my neighbor outside yesterday so I went over to talk with him.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The first thing he did was apologize for the barking dog. I told him I hoped he didn&amp;#39;t think I was a crazy anti dog bitch. I told him I was cool with dogs amd didn&amp;#39;t mind the normal barking. But barking nonstop for hours late at night, waking up my sick children, was what I wasn&amp;#39;t cool with.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He explained to me they were out late Sunday night and that is was probably the rain that made him bark. Okay, sounds like a reasonable answer, but if you knew #1 that it was raining and #2, the dog didn&amp;#39;t like storms, why in the world would you leave him tied up in the backyard during such an event? That makes so sense to me. Nevermind the barking that could distrupt your neighbors, what about the poor dog outside alone in the rain? That pisses me off.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Anywho, the dog turns out not to he his, but a friend&amp;#39;s whom is staying with him. I think she left today. She was with them when they went out, so no excuse like he didn&amp;#39;t know the dog was like that. The poor doggy. I hope she is given a better life at home than she was given here.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1083241874610505772?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1083241874610505772' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1083241874610505772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1083241874610505772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-talked-to-neighbors.html' title='I talked to the neighbors.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-5679233183223563594</id><published>2010-10-11T15:56:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T17:01:15.466-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm having trouble with viewing some blogs.</title><content type='html'>Now that I'm back in the swing of things, I'm bummed I can't read some of my favorite blogs. I can't get to Sara's (life goes on) or Mrs Spock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is anyone else having trouble viewing some of these sites?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The newest one I can't get to is April's. GRRRR!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-5679233183223563594?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=5679233183223563594' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5679233183223563594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5679233183223563594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/im-having-trouble-with-viewing-some.html' title='I&apos;m having trouble with viewing some blogs.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6540023247572328030</id><published>2010-10-11T11:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T11:40:10.438-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A house full of sickos.</title><content type='html'>Saturday night, Ella came down with a fever of 102. Allison quickly fell into the same thing. Sunday was karl&amp;#39;s turn at a slight fever. Now it&amp;#39;s my turn.&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;m coughing up the grossest shit from my lungs. The kids have runny noses, sneezing fits and sore throats. It seems I have completely different symptoms.&lt;p&gt;Fun times.&lt;p&gt;Everyone still has low grade fevers. Which is good because that tells me their little bodies are fighting whatever it is we have. But fevers suck. Everyone is lethargic and just laying around the house watching cartoons.&lt;p&gt;I will admit I do like the extra cuddles sick children so desperately need. &lt;p&gt;Ugh. What a Monday. Tom is at work and so far has not gotten what we all have. I&amp;#39;m sure he will end up catching it also. &lt;p&gt;How is everyone else&amp;#39;s Mondays going? I hope you are all doing better than we are.&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6540023247572328030?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6540023247572328030' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6540023247572328030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6540023247572328030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/house-full-of-sickos.html' title='A house full of sickos.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-3433281019095701030</id><published>2010-10-11T00:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T00:07:25.860-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The new neighbor's dog.</title><content type='html'>The new neighbors moved in this week to their rental and the first thing needing to be fixed is to get a fence. They have a large German Shepard with a large bark and they leave him outside alone in the dark, tied up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog has been barking incessantly for close to four hours now. Started at 8p and now its close to midnight. See, I don't mind the normal bark of a dog, but this dog hasn't stopped since their owners have left them outside to go out for the night. I don't blame the dog here. And I am giving the neighbors the benefit of the doubt whereas they may not know their dog barks nonstop when they aren't home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My problem is m house is too stuffy to leave the windows closed but the dogs are waking up my sick children with my windows opened. They are all in bed with mild fevers.  They are being woken up left and right from the barking. So I closed their windows and they are being woken up in pools of sweat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went and knocked on their doot but they weren't home. So I left a NICE note on their door, ~"I'm nancy from next door. Your dog has been barking constantly since you left, which brings up he problem he is waking up all three of my sick children. Please being him inside when you return. Thank you very much! :)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then when I see them tomorrow, i'll talk to them explaining I'm not a bitch and I even like dogs. Dogs barking their usual thing does ~not~ bother me. But the constant barking with no relief is what I'm complaining about. Especially with the added stress of waking up three sick children. I'm hoping they simply didn't know he would bark nonstop while they are not at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to it going as smoothly as planned and they don't just write me off as a bitch. Because I'm trying really hard not to be like one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor dog is tied up in his backyard, all alone, in the light rain and chilly night air.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-3433281019095701030?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=3433281019095701030' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3433281019095701030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3433281019095701030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-neighbors-dog.html' title='The new neighbor&apos;s dog.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-205010075102953364</id><published>2010-10-10T17:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T17:40:36.004-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's for dinner mom?</title><content type='html'>That&amp;#39;s my most hated question. I hate trying to figure out what to cook. I don&amp;#39;t mind actually cooking, but figuring out ~what~ to cook is a pain in my ass.&lt;p&gt;What are you having, or what did you have, for dinner?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-205010075102953364?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=205010075102953364' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/205010075102953364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/205010075102953364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/whats-for-dinner-mom.html' title='What&apos;s for dinner mom?'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1422653962367759242</id><published>2010-10-07T21:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T21:58:48.478-06:00</updated><title type='text'>psst....</title><content type='html'>I posted a few pictures of the kids over at my &lt;a href="http://theotherlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/"&gt;other blog &lt;/a&gt;if you'd like to take a look. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1422653962367759242?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1422653962367759242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1422653962367759242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1422653962367759242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/psst.html' title='psst....'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-7660307087886647543</id><published>2010-10-07T13:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T13:56:59.537-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nobel Prize in Medicine</title><content type='html'>I'm sure you have all heard about the pioneer behind IVF, Robert Edwards, was named the Nobel Prize in Medicine winner. I learned about it through facebook, with a few people linking to the article.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read the article and you know what? In explaining IVF, they actually said the embryo would be "implanted" back into the woman's uterus. IMPLANTED. Seriously. You'd think they'd get the terminology correct when talking about something as important as the Nobel prize. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, congrats to Dr Edwards. It was because of him that I have a little boy named Karl. IVF rules!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-7660307087886647543?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=7660307087886647543' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7660307087886647543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7660307087886647543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/nobel-prize-in-medicine.html' title='Nobel Prize in Medicine'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1532733089482411654</id><published>2010-10-07T00:43:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T08:09:18.579-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I promise</title><content type='html'>to read and comment on all of my loyal reader's blogs and them some. Trying to navigate the comment boxes and word verifications to leave messages just seems to be too hard for me on my phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I promise to declare reader bankruptcy again and this time, for 30-60 minutes a day. It'll all work out. You girls all rule so much! Thank you. Through my dark days, which you may even not know about, I still get a couple of comments to brighten it. So thank you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1532733089482411654?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1532733089482411654' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1532733089482411654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1532733089482411654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-promise.html' title='I promise'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1408668290834348633</id><published>2010-10-06T22:11:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T22:15:35.859-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Congratulations dear "x"!</title><content type='html'>One of my favorite bloggy friends just found out she was surprisingly pregnant. She was late and I begged her to test. Which she did and a fabulous 2nd line came up right away.&lt;p&gt;She is going to wait until that magic 12 week mark to announce it, so I won&amp;#39;t be saying her name. But I&amp;#39;m just so damned excited about it, I ~had~ to give her a shout out about her thrilling news. &lt;p&gt;So congratulations sweet &amp;quot;x&amp;quot;. Congratulations.&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;m going to turn off comments on this post so you won&amp;#39;t be able to figure out who is or is not commenting. Wow. I&amp;#39;m thrilled for her. I&amp;#39;m jealous as all get out, but I&amp;#39;m over the moon with happiness for her!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1408668290834348633?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1408668290834348633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1408668290834348633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1408668290834348633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/congratulations-dear-x.html' title='Congratulations dear &quot;x&quot;!'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6288220064533389362</id><published>2010-10-03T10:03:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T10:43:12.931-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Awards!</title><content type='html'>I've recently received two awards and wanted first to thank them, and then to fill them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first was from the fabulous &lt;a href="http://geo-chick.blogspot.com/"&gt;geochick&lt;/a&gt; and she gave me five questions to answer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you still live where you were born/grew up? Why?&lt;br /&gt;-- I was born in Kansas City, Missouri and I don't live there anymore since my parents moved us away from there when I was only five years old. I don't consider that "home".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What's your favorite holiday and what makes it so special?&lt;br /&gt;-- Hrm. I don't really have a favorite holiday. But if I had to answer, I'd say Christmas. It lasts longer than a day and I love getting ready for it. I also like giving presents to those I love. And of course, I also like getting them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do people IRL know about/read your blog or do you keep it relatively private?&lt;br /&gt;-- A few IRL people read my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What's your favorite color?&lt;br /&gt;-- Orange&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. We're all pretty open here in the interwebs but how open are your IRL about fertility struggles? What influences your openness or lack thereof?&lt;br /&gt;-- I'm very open about my fertility struggles IRL. I figure the more people more, the better it is for the next person to understand it. I want more people to understand this disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next one if from the beautiful &lt;a href="http://thoughtsfromthewells.blogspot.com/"&gt;Claire.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PW9cavUFpn0/TKisbtQ8tqI/AAAAAAAABdo/tVKA9oIRyEg/s1600/award.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523854534977042082" style="WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 217px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PW9cavUFpn0/TKisbtQ8tqI/AAAAAAAABdo/tVKA9oIRyEg/s320/award.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how the award works:&lt;br /&gt;- Thank and link back to the person who gave you this award&lt;br /&gt;- List 7 things no one knows about you&lt;br /&gt;- Send the award off to 7 bloggers who you think are fabulous! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are my 7 things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, it'll be hard to tell you seven things you don't know about me since I tell you about pretty much everything going on in my life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I like my toenails super short. If any of them grows at all, I cut them to the quick and peel them off. Gross, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I don't wash my face before I go to bed. I know I should, but I simply pass out at night and never take the time. I end up with mascara circles under my eyes when I wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm a lotion whore. I use lotion ~way more~ than the normal person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I have a boob job. Although this isn't quite a secret!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I wake up Karl at night just so I can cuddle with him. I tell my husband I heard him crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I like to watch documentaries on just about everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I hate that the job of making dinner is a "female" job. But that the majority of chefs are male. My husband and I share most jobs in the house except making dinner. I freaking hate it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6288220064533389362?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6288220064533389362' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6288220064533389362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6288220064533389362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/10/awards.html' title='Awards!'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PW9cavUFpn0/TKisbtQ8tqI/AAAAAAAABdo/tVKA9oIRyEg/s72-c/award.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1365705139715525493</id><published>2010-09-30T09:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T09:55:29.397-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A few questions for you ...</title><content type='html'>I love learning about my fellow bloggers, so if you have time, please take a moment and answer this little survey? I'll answer myself in the comment section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What shoes are you wearing right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What are your favorite shoes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What was the last cd, album, song, piece of music you purchased?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What was the last concert/show you went to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. If you could meet and band/singer (dead or alive), who would it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Back before IF, how many kids did you imagine yourself having?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. After the IF diagnosis, how many kids are you wanting? (or how many do you have now?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Do you believe in the death penalty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Do you go to church? If no, do you believe in God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. If you were having your last meal, what would it be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1365705139715525493?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1365705139715525493' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1365705139715525493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1365705139715525493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/few-questions-for-you.html' title='A few questions for you ...'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4429643705514372666</id><published>2010-09-29T23:46:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T23:46:24.804-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cosleeping</title><content type='html'>We all know my personal opinion on how I feel about cosleeping with an infant, but this post isn&amp;#39;t about that (whew! I know! Not another nancy-on-her-soapbox-post!)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I have a totally different opinion about cosleeping with a toddler or older children. I love it!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;When one of the girls has a nightmare or just wakes up scared of the dark, they come to us in bed and gets in. This period of cuddletime is one of my favorite things to do. We don&amp;#39;t make it a habit though, as I still believe our bed is just that. ~Our bed~. As soon as they are sound asleep in my arms, I carry them back to their own bed. But those moments of having a child fall asleep and sleep soundly in my arms is beyond wonderful.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Karl just woke up crying and did not want to go back down. So I scooped him up and brought him in his big bed with me. (we have a full size bed in his room.) it took awhile, but he finally fell asleep in my arms. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;To be honest, I wish cosleeping with an infant didn&amp;#39;t have risks of death. I would have loved to sleep with my babies. It&amp;#39;s just such a peaceful time. And nothing competes with that sort of bond with your baby. I&amp;#39;m perfectly content though that sleeping with an older child or toddler is no longer dangerous. So when I get to do it, I will gladly let one of my children in bed with me.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I do want to be careful though, especially with Karl. I don&amp;#39;t want our bed to become a permanent family bed. I still believe our bed is our bed. And children, for the most part, should not disrupt our one personal sanctuary. But on the rare occasion one of my children feel the need to sleep with me, I&amp;#39;m happy as can be to share my space.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4429643705514372666?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4429643705514372666' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4429643705514372666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4429643705514372666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/cosleeping.html' title='Cosleeping'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2279511157963619002</id><published>2010-09-29T10:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T13:00:15.956-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Let me talk about the weather.</title><content type='html'>I know, super fun topic, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colorado weather is weird. It always has and always will. But I do love it. It just takes some getting used to. After 13 years, you'd think I ~was~ used to it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is unseasonably warm right now. High today will be 85. Which sucks. See, although 85 doesn't seem hot, we don't have air conditioning. (most older homes in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Colorado&lt;/span&gt; don't have a/c. it's not just us) So it gets hot in the house. Not as bad as when it would get in the 100s, thank goodness, but still. It's warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our saving grace is our attic fan. We have a huge fan installed in the attic opening and when we open the windows, it sucks in all the outside air and pushes the air into the attic. So our house gets as cold as it is outside. Then I close up the house to trap all the cold air in and all the hot air out. So our house does stay cool most of the day. It's late afternoons and early evenings that suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weird thing is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;temperature&lt;/span&gt; is in the low 40s at night so when I wake up, the house is freezing and I have to turn on the heat to get it to at least 60. Strange, I'm running the heater on the same day I wish for an air conditioner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2279511157963619002?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2279511157963619002' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2279511157963619002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2279511157963619002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/let-me-talk-about-weather.html' title='Let me talk about the weather.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2009868896506293896</id><published>2010-09-24T15:30:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T15:30:23.046-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We're leaving on a jet plane.</title><content type='html'>Wait, no. We&amp;#39;re leaving in a silver car. Not quite a jet plane, but we&amp;#39;re still leaving. We are headed out of town in about an hour to go to salida to stay with tom&amp;#39;s parents. It&amp;#39;ll be nice to get out of the house for awhile. We are all packed and ready to go. Ww just have to wait for tom to get off work. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;In other news, I just got off the scale. 132! I have now lost 18 pounds. Yipee! Two more pounds to my goal weight, seven more pounds to get to my holy-shit-i-am-skinny-again weight. I love to see the pounds just melt away.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Thanks again for all the support you showed me in my last two posts. That was nice of you. Too bad anon had to go on an attack rampage, but the drama is over now and I can move on. I can&amp;#39;t believe some of the misconceptions she had. Like me saying my ppd was miraculously cured in a month. Last I looked I&amp;#39;ve been dealing with it for almost two years. And when I saw at my lowest of lows and got my meds upped, that was months ago. How in the world me saying I&amp;#39;m feeling better now got misconstrued into being cured in a month, but whatever. I know the truth and that&amp;#39;s all that matters, right?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I haven&amp;#39;t had the big talk with tom about adoption yet. I&amp;#39;ve got awhile before that would even begin to happen. I need to get back on my feet financially and emotionally. Just because I&amp;#39;m thinking about it didn&amp;#39;t mean it was something I was going to do tomorrow. When was sharing about something I was simply thinking about a crime? ~shrug~. I just guess people will never cease to amaze me. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I hope everyone has a fantastic weekend!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2009868896506293896?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2009868896506293896' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2009868896506293896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2009868896506293896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/were-leaving-on-jet-plane.html' title='We&apos;re leaving on a jet plane.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-9177918134704791727</id><published>2010-09-21T00:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T09:56:47.565-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The audacity astounds me.</title><content type='html'>I've been really bothered by some of the comments I've been receiving lately. Some have been warrented, as I was being judgmental myself, but I've never been so rude like what I've personally received. &lt;p&gt;PPD can be so serious. I was honest about it and even admitted pubically that I thought about ending my life. But I sought the help I needed, I received said help and I'm doing so much better now. &lt;p&gt;What I don't understand is someone using that knowledge against me in the way it was used tonight. If a friend opened up to you and said things were so serious that they thought life may be better if she wasn't in it, would your response be to tell them they shouldn't be allowed to keep the child(ren) they have? Of course not. I would imagine that person would instead be flooded with support. So why would that not happen for me? Why would that tidbit of information be used against me is such a cruel way? And don't try to rationalize and explain to yourself that's not what you did. It was exactly what you did. &lt;p&gt;I suffered from serious post partum depression. And that response was exactly why some women don't open up about their feelings, instead keeping it to themselves. It was not a character flaw and I shouldn't feel embarrassed by it. But its how you made me feel. You hurt me to my core. I have feelings, deep feelings. And telling me I'm an unfit mother because of it was just hitting below the belt. You should be ashamed of yourself. I'm ashamed for you. &lt;p&gt;Adoption is a serious prospect and you should know that. If my mental status is the reason I should be denied adoption, then I will deal with it. But you judging me for it isn't your place. I'll leave it to the professionals, as should you. &lt;p&gt;Also, telling me I've been "going downhill" since no longer struggling with trying to conceive was also not your place to make judgment. Yes, I've been struggling. But to assume its because of my fight with IF is over was unfair. You don't know me that well to make such an assumption. Who are you to come up with my reasons for my depression? To sum it up in such a nice little package is just beyond your place. &lt;p&gt;My reasons for wanting to adopt go far deeper than what you've suggested. I'm actually shocked to hear your diagnosis that its because I want to be some sort of victim. That I want to continue with your thought of wanting some sort of way to give my life definition. Have you stopped to think that I truly believe in adoption? That my heart may just be open to mothering another child who needs love from a family who wants them? How dare you to tell me its because of some sort of sick need for attention? My reasons and intentions are nothing but good. Good for a child who needs a loving family. &lt;p&gt;The adoption process will sort all of this out. I have faith in that. It is not your job to make assumptions about someone you've simply read about in a blog. &lt;p&gt;I just hope you never make the mistake again to judge someone with serious post partum depression. What you said to me was beyond hurtful. And I hope you didn't make some other woman suffering with real depression from reaching out in a time she really may need it. I hope to God you are never in the position you put me into. &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-9177918134704791727?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=9177918134704791727' title='29 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9177918134704791727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9177918134704791727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/audacity-astounds-me.html' title='The audacity astounds me.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-8876915311487572842</id><published>2010-09-20T01:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T14:47:18.077-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Adoption</title><content type='html'>I'm thinking heavily about adoption. I haven't discussed it yet with Tom, but its a subject I'm going to brooch soon. I just don't think my family is yet complete. I don't yet know what are options are, but its weighing on my mind. Another biological child is obviously out of the question, but I suddenly feel that adoption is something I really want to do. I can't believe how serious I feel about this. I feel so strongly about it. I hope Tom takes it as seriously as I've been feeling. It just seems so right. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-8876915311487572842?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=8876915311487572842' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8876915311487572842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8876915311487572842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/adoption.html' title='Adoption'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2760756692564792283</id><published>2010-09-12T20:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T20:16:50.920-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another weekend is over.</title><content type='html'>Its Sunday night, another weekend is over. Although since I&amp;#39;m not working, it doesn&amp;#39;t really matter what day it is. Except I get to spend time with my fabulous husband on saturday and Sunday.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Today was my day &amp;quot;off&amp;quot;. Tom went to a football game yesterday from like 10am - 7pm so he wanted to reciprocate and give me a day off too. Except it didn&amp;#39;t turn out that way. I went grocery shopping with all three kids in tow and then after a short break in between, we went to two different targets. I was just supposed to exchange one of karl&amp;#39;s sweaters for a larger size but I ended up shopping some more. I freaking love that store. I spent $350 of money I don&amp;#39;t have. I need to start leaving my debit card at home when I to there. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I just took a bath and then gave the kids a bath. Karl is in bed and the girls are watching TV. I kept them entertained all weekend which didn&amp;#39;t involve TV, so that&amp;#39;s good. Now they are just winding down with a cartoon before bedtime.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I think the hubs and I will watch a few episodes of top chef before we hit the sack. I have something like three - four episodes dvr&amp;#39;d. Its one of the few shows my husband and I watch together. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;What do you and your husband do to wind down a weekend?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2760756692564792283?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2760756692564792283' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2760756692564792283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2760756692564792283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/another-weekend-is-over.html' title='Another weekend is over.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1843153591354900058</id><published>2010-09-12T13:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T13:47:37.262-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies.</title><content type='html'>Has anyone seen any good movies lately? I&amp;#39;m thinking of going to go see inception. Thoughts?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1843153591354900058?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1843153591354900058' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1843153591354900058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1843153591354900058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/movies.html' title='Movies.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6373294101520279476</id><published>2010-09-11T11:04:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T11:04:25.087-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitchy or schnarky?</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;ve been awfully bitchy and judgmental lately. I will be the first to admit it. Its like I want the world to follow my rules. I need to get a better attitude!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6373294101520279476?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6373294101520279476' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6373294101520279476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6373294101520279476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/bitchy-or-schnarky.html' title='Bitchy or schnarky?'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2042830953336376284</id><published>2010-09-10T18:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T18:54:41.384-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A fine line.</title><content type='html'>There is a fine line between tooting your own horn and bragging. &lt;p&gt;Tooting one&amp;#39;s own horn is just sharing something the writer is proud of. Then there is flat out bragging. The latter has been irritating me in some of the blogs I&amp;#39;ve been reading. Sure, you&amp;#39;re happy about this and that. I get that. Hell, I do it myself. But we don&amp;#39;t need to hear about it in every post. We get it. You&amp;#39;re happy about x, y and z. We just don&amp;#39;t need to read about it in every other sentence. Its going to make me stop reading all together. And that sucks.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2042830953336376284?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2042830953336376284' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2042830953336376284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2042830953336376284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/fine-line.html' title='A fine line.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4966262787998364512</id><published>2010-09-09T18:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T18:47:02.694-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The hunt is on.</title><content type='html'>I have finally gotten my shit together and I&amp;#39;m now officially hunting for a job. Its scary out there, I hope so badly that I get one fairly soon. I really should of started earlier but I just wasn&amp;#39;t ready. Now I am.&lt;p&gt;Wish me luck girls! I really really really need some.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4966262787998364512?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4966262787998364512' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4966262787998364512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4966262787998364512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/hunt-is-on.html' title='The hunt is on.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1343326747184413248</id><published>2010-09-07T17:13:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T17:13:07.015-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear pregnancy gods...</title><content type='html'>If you are listening, please help my dear Shayna get her bfp she has dreamed about. I know you&amp;#39;ve given out some well deserved pregnancies lately, like tigger and Emily. They worked for years for it and you finally pulled through for them. Shayna has been trying for years and years and I think its her turn.&lt;p&gt;So please, can you send out one more for a deserving woman? Pretty please?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1343326747184413248?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1343326747184413248' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1343326747184413248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1343326747184413248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/dear-pregnancy-gods.html' title='Dear pregnancy gods...'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-9180721121164264444</id><published>2010-09-07T11:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T11:29:07.230-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm losing it!</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;m down another two pounds this week. Yay! I&amp;#39;m sitting at 136 lbs. So I&amp;#39;ve lost 14 lbs on my diet so far.&lt;p&gt;I shouldn&amp;#39;t say diet, since I&amp;#39;m still eating anything I want. I&amp;#39;m just eating less of it. Portion control is where its at. It takes awhile for your body to get used to it and I didn&amp;#39;t lose any weight for the first 3-4 weeks, but now its just melting off. I&amp;#39;m glad I stuck with it. Only 6 more pounds to go. I&amp;#39;m so damned proud of myself. Toot! Toot!&lt;p&gt;Today is house cleaning and laundry day. How do you spell boring? What are all of you doing on this fine Tuesday?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-9180721121164264444?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=9180721121164264444' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9180721121164264444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9180721121164264444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-losing-it.html' title='I&apos;m losing it!'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4638602392602379993</id><published>2010-09-06T09:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T09:58:03.804-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I had to call 911 for my husband.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday my husband had a hard day. We were in the garage getting things together to go to the balloon festival and I heard something hit the washing machine. I assumed my husband dropped something. Five seconds later I turn to look for him and he is in the floor, having a seizure.&lt;p&gt;As quickly as it started, it was over. He hopped up telling me he was okay. But then he started feeling shaky and really weak. Off to the phone I went to call 911.&lt;p&gt;They were there within minutes. All his vitals checked out fine. They didn&amp;#39;t think it was a real seizure, instead something to do with low blood pressure. They said they were comfortable with him staying home and watching how he felt.&lt;p&gt;Nothing has happened since. But it wad sure scary! I hope it never happens again.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4638602392602379993?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4638602392602379993' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4638602392602379993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4638602392602379993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-had-to-call-911-for-my-husband.html' title='I had to call 911 for my husband.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4071890075512649806</id><published>2010-09-02T16:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T16:56:32.944-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Haha.</title><content type='html'>After blogging about it, calling the doctor and making an appointment, my elusive period started. Quite funny uterus. You are such a riot.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4071890075512649806?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4071890075512649806' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4071890075512649806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4071890075512649806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/09/haha.html' title='Haha.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6043204179264946871</id><published>2010-08-31T23:22:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T23:22:38.772-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You win uterus.</title><content type='html'>I answered in the comments of my last post, so excuse me for repeating myself. The nurse called after talking to my doctor and he wants me to come in to be seen. Apparently af on hiatus for four months is something to get checked out over. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don&amp;#39;t even need the damned thing anymore so I guess she&amp;#39;s feeling a little left out. Can you blame her? For 30 odd ttc cycle months and 27 pregnancies months, she was center of attention. And now? Nothing at all. So she does the only thing she can do, which is stop working. All I ask for is a light period every 28 or so days. That&amp;#39;s not much to ask, is it? I&amp;#39;ve only skipped a period for one month in my entire menstrual career, besides the pregnant ones. So missing four in a row is a biggie for me. Don&amp;#39;t get me wrong, I&amp;#39;m perfectly content in skipping all of my periods until I die, but the doc must think I&amp;#39;m a little too young for that to happen. I wonder if its caused by the adhesion bands he found last time. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So, my appointment is next Wednesday. I bet I will even get a date with the monkey wand. Fun times I tell you! I thought this period of my life was finally over but being IF wins again. Now tell me, how can IF win when the game isn&amp;#39;t even being played anymore?  &lt;br&gt;Maybe I&amp;#39;m pregnant. Ha! I won&amp;#39;t even pee in a stick for that one. I can&amp;#39;t fathom being the 1% that gets pregnant with having the essure product placed. So what every good IFer does, I wait. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6043204179264946871?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6043204179264946871' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6043204179264946871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6043204179264946871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/you-win-uterus_31.html' title='You win uterus.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1024507304299508453</id><published>2010-08-30T14:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T14:05:26.976-06:00</updated><title type='text'>do I need to call my ob?</title><content type='html'>I haven&amp;#39;t had a period in almost four months. Should I call the doctor? Or should I just consider myself lucky and let it go?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1024507304299508453?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1024507304299508453' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1024507304299508453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1024507304299508453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/do-i-need-to-call-my-ob.html' title='do I need to call my ob?'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-650610877512091845</id><published>2010-08-29T15:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T15:01:15.835-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's your favorite season?</title><content type='html'>I love summer, but I&amp;#39;m definately ready for fall. Growing up in phoenix, I never really experienced fall. It was more like summer and then winter. No in betweens.&lt;p&gt;I love warm days and cool nights. I love the colors of the changing leaves. I love the smell of the crisp evening air. I love to wear jeans and a cardigan. &lt;p&gt;What about you? What is your favorite season?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-650610877512091845?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=650610877512091845' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/650610877512091845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/650610877512091845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/whats-your-favorite-season.html' title='What&apos;s your favorite season?'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6655017491259882788</id><published>2010-08-27T23:46:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T23:46:22.725-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My husband.</title><content type='html'>I don&amp;#39;t talk about my husband much on my blog. I am so open about myself, telling you all my deepest, darkest secrets, but I like to keep one thing private. That would be my relationship with my husband. I do mention him from time to time, but he is just someone I don&amp;#39;t want to share with the public. Not because it is anything bad. In fact, it is quite the opposite.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;This evening though, I want to dedicate a post to him. My husband&amp;#39;s name is Tom. And he is my very best friend in the world. I couldn&amp;#39;t imagine my life without him. Not only is he a fabulous father, he&amp;#39;s a fabulous husband. I love him beyond comprehension. He does have his faults, like we all do, but they are few and far between. I love him dearly. No one from my past even comes close to how wonderful he is.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tom is my best friend. Tom is my lover. Tom is my partner in everything we do. Tom is my soul mate. I can&amp;#39;t believe I found such a man, much less a man who was willing to marry me. He sticks with me through the bad and comes out shining on the other side. Tom is amazing. Tom is everything I could ever ask for in a husband and then more. Tom is also gorgeous, which is a nice thing too. Tom is my light through my darkness. Tom is my husband, my love.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I love you Tom. More than I could ever put into words. Thank you for being by my side. You&amp;#39;re amazing. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6655017491259882788?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6655017491259882788' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6655017491259882788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6655017491259882788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-husband_27.html' title='My husband.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-7732686350920792337</id><published>2010-08-27T09:58:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T09:58:25.084-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Grumble.</title><content type='html'>I fucking hate backhanded comments. I just got one, which I promptly deleted, but it still pissed me off.&lt;p&gt;What&amp;#39;s with people lately? If you don&amp;#39;t like someone, why read and post on their blog? If you do post, just say what you want to say instead of pretending to he nice but actually saying something shitty? I&amp;#39;d rather get a straightforward comment then a backhanded one. I&amp;#39;d have to say I hate passive aggressiveness as one of the worst things out there. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-7732686350920792337?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=7732686350920792337' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7732686350920792337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7732686350920792337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/grumble.html' title='Grumble.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-5781241086839990139</id><published>2010-08-26T15:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T15:08:27.339-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Its all over</title><content type='html'>My tooth is gone. And Yay for IV sedation to get through an oral surgery without feeling a thing. I&amp;#39;m quite sore now, but its not too bad. I can handle this. &lt;p&gt;The hole I feel in the back of my mouth is strange but you can&amp;#39;t really see it when I open my mouth to laugh. And you can&amp;#39;t see it at all when I smile. That&amp;#39;s a relief. I don&amp;#39;t have to feel embarrassed. I don&amp;#39;t know when I will be able to afford a replacement tooth so for now, I will just leave that space empty. &lt;p&gt;Thanks for all the good luck wishes. They seemed to have helped!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-5781241086839990139?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=5781241086839990139' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5781241086839990139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5781241086839990139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/its-all-over.html' title='Its all over'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-9195983129007375554</id><published>2010-08-25T20:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T20:42:22.242-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wish me luck.</title><content type='html'>I have my oral surgery tomorrow morning at 9:30. It should be a piece of cake because I&amp;#39;m getting IV sedation. The recovery will be the worst of it. &lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;m going to miss my tooth. We&amp;#39;ve been through a lot together!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-9195983129007375554?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=9195983129007375554' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9195983129007375554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9195983129007375554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/wish-me-luck.html' title='Wish me luck.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-118759432703798913</id><published>2010-08-25T09:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T09:29:27.642-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What a strange comment.</title><content type='html'>I just received a comment on a post that was months and months ago. It was a picture post which one of the pictures showed karl&amp;#39;s little naked butt.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The comment was &amp;quot;rude or not, why would you put a picture of your baby&amp;#39;s naked butt on the internet. No one wants to see that. And why would you embarrass your own child?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I didn&amp;#39;t know it was possible to be offended by a baby&amp;#39;s butt. Apparently, someone was. How crazy is that? Of course the commentor was anonymous. I fnd it humorous that people feel free to be bitchy when hiding behind the anonymous capability. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m pretty opinionated and outspoken. (gasp!) But ve never hid behind an anonymous comment. I think anyone who does so is a pussy. If you&amp;#39;ve got something to say, say it behind your own name. If you don&amp;#39;t feel comfortable enough to use your name, you probably shouldn&amp;#39;t be leaving a comment at all.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Now I want to post tons of naked baby butt pictures!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;What about you? Do you get rude and hateful comments from people who are too chicken shit to leave their names?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-118759432703798913?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=118759432703798913' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/118759432703798913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/118759432703798913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-strange-comment.html' title='What a strange comment.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-3075966328825455644</id><published>2010-08-24T13:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-24T13:57:19.528-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Six.</title><content type='html'>All my jeans were in the washer and I needed a pair to wear. So I pulled off the top pair and they just looked too small, but I tried them on anyway.&lt;p&gt;They fit! Size six baby. I&amp;#39;m more than surprised but very happy with myself. I&amp;#39;ve been dancing around the house and checking out myself in the mirror. I&amp;#39;m such a dork. But I&amp;#39;m a skinny dork!&lt;p&gt;Sorry to be tooting my own horn here, but I&amp;#39;m just plain excited about it. I have eight more pounds to lose before I&amp;#39;m done with my dieting. I hope I can get there before my 20th class reunion. Who doesn&amp;#39;t want a rockin body to show off?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-3075966328825455644?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=3075966328825455644' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3075966328825455644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3075966328825455644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/six.html' title='Six.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-7082427976881315830</id><published>2010-08-23T16:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T16:35:03.361-06:00</updated><title type='text'>If...</title><content type='html'>If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?&lt;p&gt;For me, I&amp;#39;d have a house on the beach. Maybe one of the Hawaiian islands.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-7082427976881315830?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=7082427976881315830' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7082427976881315830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7082427976881315830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/if.html' title='If...'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-6213634466784709456</id><published>2010-08-20T21:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T21:41:38.777-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A question for those who cosleep.</title><content type='html'>For those out there who cosleep, when do you have sex with your hubby?&lt;p&gt;Our sex life was much different before we had kids. We used to have sex anytime, anywhere. Now that most of our time is spent with our children, sex happens in our room after the kids go to bed. Much of it happens in the moments before falling asleep when we go to bed.&lt;p&gt;So to those that cosleep, I actually have two questions. &lt;p&gt;#1 - when/where do you have sex? Does cosleeping put a damper on your sex life?&lt;p&gt;#2 - do you go to bed when the baby goes to bed? Our kids go to sleep hours before we go to bed, so how does that work for you? Do you lay down in bed with them until they go to sleep and then get up, leaving them in your bed? Or do you just go to sleep when they do?&lt;p&gt;Thanks for answering such a personal question!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-6213634466784709456?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=6213634466784709456' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6213634466784709456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/6213634466784709456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/question-for-those-who-cosleep.html' title='A question for those who cosleep.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1320513400872845762</id><published>2010-08-20T08:10:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T08:10:07.601-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home births</title><content type='html'>Robin mentioned home birthing in her comment to my last post. It is one of those things I also feel strongly about.&lt;p&gt;I get why people want homebirths but it is another one of those things that are risky. Sure, most of the time they go off without a hitch but why would people risk something happenening? If I had Karl at home, I would have died. No ifs ands or buts. I would have bled to death and I would have left three children without a mother. &lt;p&gt;What do you think of home births? &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1320513400872845762?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1320513400872845762' title='29 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1320513400872845762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1320513400872845762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/home-births.html' title='Home births'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4383377673641454214</id><published>2010-08-19T11:34:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T11:34:12.362-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Co sleeping dangers.</title><content type='html'>I just read in the news of a baby dying due to cosleeping with his mother. The parents said they&amp;#39;ve always coslept and thought they were safe because they were such light sleepers and very aware of their child in bed with them. But tragedy struck them when the baby was accidentally suffocated.&lt;p&gt;How horrible. This poor family. They are going to have to live with the fact they killed their child for the rest of their lives.&lt;p&gt;Cribs are the best place for sleeping babies. Its beyond me why parents risk it just because its easier for them to breastfeed. I can&amp;#39;t imagine the guilt this family will feel forever. It can happen in the blink of an eye. I seriously don&amp;#39;t understand why anyone would cosleep.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4383377673641454214?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4383377673641454214' title='29 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4383377673641454214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4383377673641454214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/co-sleeping-dangers.html' title='Co sleeping dangers.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-3021266346576095413</id><published>2010-08-16T16:22:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T16:22:40.024-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday, bloody Monday.</title><content type='html'>First off, thank you all for the birthday wishes! A lot of you commented here and I got bunches of Facebook happy birthday wishes. My birthday was great because of all of you. So thank you. From the bottom of my heart.&lt;p&gt;I went to the dentist this morning and got some bad news. My bad tooth is now infecting the bone. Which means I need to get it pulled. Lame. Its my very back bottom molar so I&amp;#39;m going to have to get some sort of replacement. I&amp;#39;m scheduled to get it out next thursday. Fun times. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-3021266346576095413?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=3021266346576095413' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3021266346576095413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3021266346576095413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/monday-bloody-monday.html' title='Monday, bloody Monday.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2734045643691136272</id><published>2010-08-14T17:07:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T17:07:11.020-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy birthday to me.</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be a big 38 years old. How I&amp;#39;m inching closer to 40 astounds me.&lt;p&gt;My husband and I just went to a wedding. It was a full catholic mass. In Spanish. I&amp;#39;ll leave it at that.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2734045643691136272?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2734045643691136272' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2734045643691136272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2734045643691136272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy birthday to me.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-7076598202731856225</id><published>2010-08-14T12:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T12:39:44.638-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Weight loss</title><content type='html'>There&amp;#39;s one good thing about being really depressed. Weight loss! Yay?&lt;p&gt;I was 148 a few months ago and now I&amp;#39;m 138.5. Woot. &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ll probably gain it all back when I&amp;#39;m through with this, but for now, i&amp;#39;ll take it! &lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-7076598202731856225?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=7076598202731856225' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7076598202731856225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7076598202731856225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/weight-loss.html' title='Weight loss'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-7630403448910972673</id><published>2010-08-08T23:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T23:29:30.620-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The thing about opening up...</title><content type='html'>Is that everyone knows. &lt;p&gt;My mother in law came over today and she talked to me about how I&amp;#39;ve been feeling. She broke down crying and so did I. I can&amp;#39;t tell you how embarrassed I am.&lt;p&gt;I know my husband is dealing with this too and he needs someone to talk to. I&amp;#39;m glad he can open up with his parents but then again, I wish they didn&amp;#39;t know. I just wish I could just be a good wife and mother in their eyes. Them knowing my secret makes me feel like I&amp;#39;ve failed them and their son. I know she supports me though. And that&amp;#39;s a good thing. I just have to get over my embarrassment.&lt;p&gt;Why can&amp;#39;t my brain behave itself? I hate this. I really do. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-7630403448910972673?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=7630403448910972673' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7630403448910972673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/7630403448910972673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/thing-about-opening-up.html' title='The thing about opening up...'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-3767488482819970927</id><published>2010-08-07T20:23:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T20:23:29.975-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mood swings</title><content type='html'>I wish I could report I was better, but I&amp;#39;m still having periods of extreme lows. With that, I&amp;#39;m also having periods of feeling good. I wish my brain would kick into permanent goodness. That would rock.&lt;p&gt;Besides all of you, my friends and husband has flooded me with support. I couldn&amp;#39;t imagine going through this alone. I&amp;#39;m so lucky to have such a support group around me. I hope others out there have read my story and has gotten the gumption to open up about how they are feeling. You are right, its nothing I should be embarrassed about. Its not a character flaw. Its an illness that can&amp;#39;t be helped.&lt;p&gt;Right this instant in feeling good. Maybe it&amp;#39;ll stay this way. I certainly hope so.&lt;p&gt;I wanted to thank you once again for the support you&amp;#39;ve shown me. It was hard to speak up about how dark I was really feeling. And you all understood me and didn&amp;#39;t judge. It was more than I could ever ask for.&lt;p&gt; &lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-3767488482819970927?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=3767488482819970927' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3767488482819970927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3767488482819970927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/mood-swings.html' title='Mood swings'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-632838660182247708</id><published>2010-08-04T13:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T13:54:43.994-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange</title><content type='html'>It&amp;#39;s strange to be face to face with someone you barely know and spill all your innermost secrets. But I did it. I told him exactly what I&amp;#39;ve been thinking and feeling. When I told him I had been feeling everyone would be better off with me dead, it didn&amp;#39;t even phase him. I guess I expected a reaction, instead he just asked if I had a concrete plan on how to do it. &lt;p&gt;After all was said and done, he gave me a new prescription of the same medication I&amp;#39;ve been on, except he doubled the dose. He said it would take about a week to kick in and told me if I wasn&amp;#39;t feeling better after the week was through, I&amp;#39;m to come back in. No appointment necessary.&lt;p&gt;So we&amp;#39;ll see how I do. I hope it works.&lt;p&gt;Have I told you all how much you mean to me? All of your comments were so heartfelt. Wow. You are all so amazing. I&amp;#39;m a lucky girl to have so many people care about me. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-632838660182247708?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=632838660182247708' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/632838660182247708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/632838660182247708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/strange.html' title='Strange'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-4574297622742737253</id><published>2010-08-04T08:55:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T08:55:52.776-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm embarrassed</title><content type='html'>Thank you for all your heartfelt comments. I&amp;#39;m utterly embarrassed for saying everything I&amp;#39;ve said to you but I guess I needed to get it all out. I never thought this would be me, but my stupid brain has me all confuddled. I hate it.&lt;p&gt;I read all of your comments and I am so lucky to have all of you in my life. Really. I&amp;#39;m going to see my doctor in a few hours and I promise ill be up front about everything I&amp;#39;ve been thinking and feeling. I&amp;#39;m scared to say it aloud but I know it needs to be discussed. I&amp;#39;ve never felt so low before in my life. I know ill get through it though. At least I hope I will. &lt;p&gt;i&amp;#39;ll pop in for an update when I get back. Until then, thank you all so much. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-4574297622742737253?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=4574297622742737253' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4574297622742737253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/4574297622742737253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-embarrassed.html' title='I&apos;m embarrassed'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-9126232889343477498</id><published>2010-08-03T21:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T21:32:50.091-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Appointment tomorrow.</title><content type='html'>I have an appointment with the psychiatrist tomorrow morning. Letting him know how bad is is getting to me. Thoughs and plans of suicide is scary. I even know how ill do it to make the least mess. Seems my depression came back with a vengeance this time.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Let me try to explain the fantasies of my suicide. When I&amp;#39;m not acting like me, I turn into myself. I can&amp;#39;t eat, drink, take a shower. The smallest of tasks like making my kids breakfast just overwhelm me. I cry all day, wallowing in my own self pity. I can&amp;#39;t seem to get out of it. I have one to two anxiety attacks each and everyday. Sometimes so bad, I can&amp;#39;t function.and its around these feeling where I wish I was dead. But I can&amp;#39;t leave my children so that&amp;#39;s off the plate. But I do fantasize about them. No one would have to keep their eye on me, doing all the work I can&amp;#39;t do for my own family. I just feel I&amp;#39;m more of a burden on them alive then I would be dead.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;This has gone on for quite some time now and I&amp;#39;m at the end of my rope. Litterally. My husband is such a better dad than I am a mom and I know its this stupid brain shit. I want to be my old self again. I want to enjoy my family instead of focusing on being a good mom like I used to be. Is that to heard to ask? I know they&amp;#39;ll be fine with ought my as they have a wonderful rather. But even then, they&amp;#39;ll never undershtand the loss of me. And they may never forgive me. I love them all so much. So much that I don&amp;#39;t understand how I can do this to them.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So we&amp;#39;ll see what the doctors say tomorrow. Maybe there is something new I can try. I never. Wanted to die before. This is defiately new territory.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-9126232889343477498?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=9126232889343477498' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9126232889343477498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/9126232889343477498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/appointment-tomorrow.html' title='Appointment tomorrow.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-5020928078163049705</id><published>2010-08-03T14:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T14:21:22.064-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And now for something serious.</title><content type='html'>I spent the whine day crying&amp;#39; thinking of wasy to kill myself. I&amp;#39;m down, really down. I have a gun I could do it wit but three children in my life is what stoops me. And that it. Those three kids need a mom.they need me&lt;p&gt;How do I make it past somethin as hard core as this &lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;m scared.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-5020928078163049705?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=5020928078163049705' title='32 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5020928078163049705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5020928078163049705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/08/and-now-for-something-serious.html' title='And now for something serious.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>32</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2402199872124597716</id><published>2010-07-30T14:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T14:42:35.512-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The nicu</title><content type='html'>Has anyone seen the HBO documentary &amp;quot;little man&amp;quot;? Its about the struggle a couple had to keep their 25 week preemie alive. He was born at just one pound. He ended up having a lot of problems but survived through the end of the film when he was two years old. &lt;p&gt;The program was really good to watch. Especially because one of my best friends gave birth to a 33 weeker just three weeks ago. He&amp;#39;ll be coming home tomorrow. Yay! Way to go little man. Way to go.&lt;p&gt;I couldn&amp;#39;t imagine working in the nicu. But what a fulfilling job when you are able to help keep a little one alive. Thank you to all the nicu staff out there. You are simply priceless.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2402199872124597716?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2402199872124597716' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2402199872124597716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2402199872124597716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/07/nicu.html' title='The nicu'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-5292708197810167317</id><published>2010-07-29T23:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T23:05:48.287-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My mommy</title><content type='html'>My 73 year old mommy is coming to take her 37 year old daughter to the doctor in the morning. Now that I have kids of my own, I know she&amp;#39;s more than willing to do this for me. I&amp;#39;ll do anything for my kids. And if that means driving them to the doc when their 40, so be it.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tomorrow morning I have my newest injection procedure being done in my facet joint. I haven&amp;#39;t talked to the injection doc yet, but I think they&amp;#39;re going in and burning the nerve endings. It&amp;#39;ll be used as a diagnostic tool to find the exact spot I have pain. If that can happen, the surgeon can find that same place to go forward and perform a fuse on my spine to take care of the pain for good. The nerve burning is a short term fix but it helps them find the specifics or if it even works at all. I really want to be fixed. I&amp;#39;m tired of short term solutions that some work and some don&amp;#39;t. I want to be pain free. So a big talk with my doc in the morning will be just that. Can they send the result to the spine surgeon if it feels like they got it right? That will all be covered tomorrow.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I need to check in at 6:45 from the 7:30 procedure. They&amp;#39;ll be using twilight anesthesia instead of general, so i&amp;#39;ll be awake throughout it, but awake is used loosely as when I&amp;#39;ve done this before, I remember talking to everyone as we get started but then memory blacks out and I&amp;#39;m suddenly back in recovery.  Twilight sedationi is weird.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, give me your good thought tomorrow morning. I need them.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-5292708197810167317?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=5292708197810167317' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5292708197810167317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5292708197810167317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-mommy.html' title='My mommy'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1187711589943355397</id><published>2010-07-27T15:50:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T15:50:25.567-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you know who I am?</title><content type='html'>I was just driving to the store and the guy in front of me decided driving ~with~ gas was just too scary for him. So I honked as a friendly reminder to get it going. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;As I turned into the right turning lane, I passed him and I could see him yelling at me. So I slowed down and rolled my window down...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;excuse me?&amp;quot; I query.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;do you know who you&amp;#39;re fucking with?&amp;quot; he asks back.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I point around his beat up four runner and say &amp;quot;obviously not much&amp;quot;.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He gave a stupid laugh and took off. I wish he told me who he was as all I could gather was a guy driving a piece of shit car who doesn&amp;#39;t know how to drive.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Dumbass.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1187711589943355397?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1187711589943355397' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1187711589943355397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1187711589943355397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/07/do-you-know-who-i-am.html' title='Do you know who I am?'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-3264055141773105283</id><published>2010-07-26T18:59:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T18:59:37.911-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't think there's a better one out there.</title><content type='html'>I had a day where my husband really showed me what he was made of. Wow. My husband fucking rules.&lt;p&gt;What about your own hubby? Does he do things that just make him a studendous man?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-3264055141773105283?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=3264055141773105283' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3264055141773105283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3264055141773105283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-dont-think-theres-better-one-out.html' title='I don&apos;t think there&apos;s a better one out there.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-2208381552732885604</id><published>2010-07-23T10:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T10:57:59.928-06:00</updated><title type='text'>After everything is said and done ...</title><content type='html'>I love the fact we did ivf/fet to get Karl.&lt;p&gt;I had such a mixture of ttc experiences.&lt;p&gt;For Ella, we ttc for 18 cycles. We did all the tests and exploratory surgery. Everything came out normal. I was diagnosed as unexplained, but knowing what we know now, it was most likely my lining that caused the trouble. We were in our way to our first iui and I got pregnant before we were able to move ahead.&lt;p&gt;With Allison, we got that elusive bfp on our first cycle. I got a taste of what it was like being &amp;quot;fertile&amp;quot;. We were blessed. &lt;p&gt;With Karl came the big issues. I had uterine anomalies due to the previous deliveries. Scar tissue and cysts. I wasn&amp;#39;t ovulating on my own anymore, instead, I was growing huge cysts. To get the eggos to leggo, I needed to be triggered with hcg. But my uterus wasn&amp;#39;t healthy, with the help of an hss, we found my uterus was sealed 70% shut with scar tissue. It took four surgeries to make my uterus clear. And then the lining issues took over again. Our first ivf transfer was cancelled. Our fet was traumatic trying to get my lining to respond. With a mere 7mm lining, we went forward and thawed out nine embryos. At the time of transfer, we had four embyies ready to go. The doctor thought moving forward would be a wasted cycle, but I had to complete it. I couldn&amp;#39;t cancel again. And low and behold, a pregnancy happened. It was high risk and after a mere 26 ultrasounds to check on the baby, things were coming to a close. A manual version later, my water broke and labor was on. Another traumatic delivery later, I had Karl in my arms.&lt;p&gt;Three babies, three different types of ttc, three different deliveries. Three different recoveries. I experienced it all. Well, not all, as so much could have gone differently, but I experienced a lot. Nothing followed the rule book. Nothing was the same.&lt;p&gt;After all was said and done, I can&amp;#39;t tell you which ttc story was the &amp;quot;best&amp;quot;. Although we were lucky one time with a cycle #1 bfp, I&amp;#39;m happy all my bfps weren&amp;#39;t so easy. And I&amp;#39;m happy I got the pleasure to do something extreme as ivf and an fet instead of just getting pregnant after unexplained as I did with Ella. &lt;p&gt;You&amp;#39;d think after experiencing everything, I would wish we didn&amp;#39;t have so much trouble. You&amp;#39;d think I&amp;#39;d wish everything went as well as allison&amp;#39;s bfp. But I don&amp;#39;t. I find myself feeling blessed I had to work at it. I feel blessed we had our mixture of ttc stories. I feel blessed to have gone through 3 iuis, and ivf and fet for Karl. But I also feel blessed to have gone through 18 cycles of unexplained for Ella. &lt;p&gt;I guess I&amp;#39;m trying to explain to women out there to not feel unlucky to have to move forward with their ttc. Only knowing now what I know, I&amp;#39;m not jealous of &amp;quot;fertiles&amp;quot;. In fact, I&amp;#39;m happy I was not fertile. I got the experience of fighting with all I had for a pregnancy. I don&amp;#39;t know of this will make sense, especially to those still ttc out there. But I would have missed out in so much if getting pregnant was simply easy.&lt;p&gt;Don&amp;#39;t feel unlucky if your ttc experience isn&amp;#39;t easy. You never know how an experience will change you. You may end up feeling the same as I do. &lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-2208381552732885604?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=2208381552732885604' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2208381552732885604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/2208381552732885604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/07/after-everything-is-said-and-done.html' title='After everything is said and done ...'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-8885639268920131850</id><published>2010-07-22T13:14:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T13:14:54.278-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Food.</title><content type='html'>If you could go out and have any food in the world right now, what would it be?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;For me, I just got satisfied with some awesome sushi. Ella and I met some old coworkers of mine for lunch. I got Ella a cucumber roll, but as soon as she saw it, it was a no go. I guess trying to feed your super picky kid rice rolled up in seaweed wasn&amp;#39;t such a good idea.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I got the cadet roll (spicy tuna, cream cheese, avacado and radish sprouts) and two pieces of plain raw tuna. Yummy. We shared some &amp;#233;damame&amp;#39; which Ella ate really well to my surprise. Ella ate her bowl of sticky rice and hit the m-n-m candy machine for dessert. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So what would you have right now?&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-8885639268920131850?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=8885639268920131850' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8885639268920131850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/8885639268920131850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/07/food.html' title='Food.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-3631538738508388646</id><published>2010-07-22T09:22:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T09:22:41.208-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Typos.</title><content type='html'>I usually don&amp;#39;t proof read as I don&amp;#39;t really mind typos, but my goodness, my last post has like fifty typos. Its bothering me.&lt;p&gt;I just dropped the kids off at daycare. Now its just me and Ella. I have nothing planned for today. What is there to do? Its so nice to have plans and today I&amp;#39;ve got nothing on the agenda. What are you doing today?&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-3631538738508388646?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=3631538738508388646' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3631538738508388646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/3631538738508388646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/07/typos.html' title='Typos.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-5511118180668039684</id><published>2010-07-21T21:38:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T21:38:27.178-06:00</updated><title type='text'>power cleaning.</title><content type='html'>Whew. Two hours of power cleaning gets stuff DONE! I cut corners - I swept buy didn&amp;#39;t mop. I still got spills my band though. I didn&amp;#39;t dust but dusted a few days ago.I canged everyone&amp;#39;s sheets and already have it folded in the linen closer. I vacuumed but vacuumed around some shit I could have moved. I got the girls toys all in the you area and organized in a little. My room is perfect. Bathroom cleaned. Carpet. I still need to mop. Bed is made. Nothing is hanging off the wrought iron bed stands. Kids room about halfway in put away and vacumed. Other half in morning. Bathrooms are alright. All tables wiped down. No more collection spots. I feel better but now I&amp;#39;m all amped up. Oh, I just finished two baskets of laundry which made me catch up on all but one lone basket that isn&amp;#39;t quite full enough to do know. Every dish is put in the. Dishwasher.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I think I can say it. I&amp;#39;m d o n e. D.o.n.e. Done? &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;At least for the night. In satisfied in how clean everything looks right now. Its relaxing.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;It&amp;#39;ll all be over by morning, but for now, it will remain.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-5511118180668039684?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=5511118180668039684' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5511118180668039684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/5511118180668039684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/07/power-cleaning.html' title='power cleaning.'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398854732615407687.post-1568092493217182792</id><published>2010-07-19T11:55:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T11:55:49.190-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Surrogacy</title><content type='html'>I was recently asked to be a potential surrogate. Something I would love nothing better to do. &lt;p&gt;I called my ob asking about my last hss. Seems my stupid uterus still has issues. Remember me telling you about the adhesion bands I had? I guess that&amp;#39;s an issue for carrying another child. I&amp;#39;d have to get surgery to remove it and then I&amp;#39;d have the risk of more scar tissue. This is something that definately stands in the way of being a surrogate. Damn it all.&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;ve carried three babies yet I still would have an issue in getting pregnant again. I&amp;#39;m so very bummed out. But if I couldn&amp;#39;t get a bfp for someone else, it would break my heart and for the proposed parents. I guess its a good thing the rules of being a a surrogate are so stringent, but its something I guess puts me out of the running. Stupid uterus.&lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398854732615407687-1568092493217182792?l=thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398854732615407687&amp;postID=1568092493217182792' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1568092493217182792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398854732615407687/posts/default/1568092493217182792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thenewlifeofnancy.blogspot.com/2010/07/surrogacy.html' title='Surrogacy'/><author><name>nancy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04479202205264710056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://www.geocities.com/nleisher/temp/nancy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
