<?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-7312767416465754361</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:11:20.479-07:00</updated><category term='pensive'/><category term='Whiny'/><category term='funny'/><category term='God'/><category term='Things I Like About Me'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='politics'/><category term='random'/><category term='rants'/><category term='music'/><category term='general'/><category term='Life'/><category term='wordless wednesdays'/><category term='my kid is dang cute'/><category term='wounded'/><category term='Blogs for your blogroll'/><category term='conversations'/><category term='entertainment'/><category term='family'/><category term='Waving My Tomboy Flag'/><category term='religion'/><category term='i heart stephen colbert'/><category term='Laziness'/><category term='i love my hubby'/><category term='Mom'/><category term='work'/><category term='food glorious food'/><category term='prayer'/><category term='my dog reese that&apos;s not named after my pastor'/><title type='text'>Petroski Clan</title><subtitle type='html'>A day in the life...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>57</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-7037735081387570876</id><published>2008-05-08T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T21:18:25.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, I've Finally Done It</title><content type='html'>I've moved to wordpress. You must blogroll me immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://teresapetroski.wordpress.com"&gt;teresapetroski.wordpress.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do it now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-7037735081387570876?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7037735081387570876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=7037735081387570876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7037735081387570876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7037735081387570876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/05/okay-ive-finally-done-it.html' title='Okay, I&apos;ve Finally Done It'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-7391409427959952957</id><published>2008-05-02T16:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T16:42:24.525-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Stirring Up</title><content type='html'>I'm cleaning my kitchen and playing a worship cd that is really speaking to me as of late. These songs have been speaking to me in this place of adjusting to my ever-changing life. &lt;a href="http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/will-real-teresa-please-stand-up.html"&gt;All week I have been really seeking to answer the question, "Who am I now that I am a Mom? Who am I in the midst of post-partum depression?"&lt;/a&gt; As soon as I asked God that question and really sought Him to answer it, His answers are becoming clearer with each passing day. With every change in my life, with every doubt I have of myself, every insecurity, there is one thing I can be sure of... I am His. And there is great comfort in that. A very true and real peace that surpasses all of my understanding. More than that, an understanding of His grace being absolutely sufficient for me and feeling His strength encompassing me in my weaknesses. I don't have to be whole, because He is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am encouraged, I am stirred up, I am alive and full of joy - in Christ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High&lt;br /&gt;Will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.&lt;br /&gt;They say, "He is my refuge and my fortress,&lt;br /&gt;My God, in whom I trust" Psalm 91:1-2&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-7391409427959952957?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7391409427959952957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=7391409427959952957' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7391409427959952957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7391409427959952957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/05/stirring-up.html' title='Stirring Up'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-2759369760874303801</id><published>2008-04-30T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T12:11:17.302-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Still Standing</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y4KiGN1j1No&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y4KiGN1j1No&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;walking,stumbling on these shadowfeet&lt;br /&gt;toward home,a land that i've never seen&lt;br /&gt;i am changing: less and less asleep&lt;br /&gt;made of different stuff than when i began&lt;br /&gt;and i have sensed it all along&lt;br /&gt;fast approaching is the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when the world has fallen out from under me&lt;br /&gt;i'll be found in you, still standing&lt;br /&gt;when the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees&lt;br /&gt;when time and space are through&lt;br /&gt;i'll be found in you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;theres distraction buzzing in my head&lt;br /&gt;saying in the shadows it's easier to stay&lt;br /&gt;but I've heard rumours of true reality&lt;br /&gt;whispers of a well-lit way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you make all things new&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;when the world has fallen out from under me&lt;br /&gt;i'll be found in you, still standing&lt;br /&gt;every fear and accusation under my feet&lt;br /&gt;when time and space are through&lt;br /&gt;I'll be found in you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-2759369760874303801?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2759369760874303801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=2759369760874303801' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2759369760874303801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2759369760874303801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-response-to-my-earlier-post.html' title='Still Standing'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-358217502810831157</id><published>2008-04-29T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T09:46:44.732-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Whiny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wounded'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food glorious food'/><title type='text'>Will the Real Teresa Please Stand Up</title><content type='html'>So, I have begun my path on the road to recovery. To claw myself out of the depths of post-partum depression back to (hopefully) feeling like myself again. And as I say and think those words, I wonder, "What does that even mean?" The last time I remember feeling like myself was when I had no human being to rely on me to do that little task of sustaining their life. (I hope you're sensing the tone, cause there is one).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who will emerge when the dust of hormones settle? What are the parts of me that I will choose to leave behind because they no longer fit as my new role as "mommy"? What will I keep? What will I hold onto, refusing to let go, kicking and screaming as God continues to refine me? And why does this refining process have to be so freaking painful?!?! Why can't refining be a comforting process that feels like getting a foot massage? Or as satisfying as eating toaster strudel? (which I'm officially off of, btw).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SBihzpX2LbI/AAAAAAAAAKI/a53sqjCCc5c/s1600-h/identity_crisis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SBihzpX2LbI/AAAAAAAAAKI/a53sqjCCc5c/s400/identity_crisis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195080078823140786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that becoming a mom wouldn't be a walk in a field of daisies along calm streams and toaster strudel waiting for me at the end of the path (*sigh*), but I didn't expect the identity crisis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-358217502810831157?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/358217502810831157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=358217502810831157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/358217502810831157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/358217502810831157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/will-real-teresa-please-stand-up.html' title='Will the Real Teresa Please Stand Up'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SBihzpX2LbI/AAAAAAAAAKI/a53sqjCCc5c/s72-c/identity_crisis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-4601546526682495158</id><published>2008-04-24T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T21:25:08.356-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>More of Derek</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SBFdE5X2LaI/AAAAAAAAAKA/WM03XVcHnuY/s1600-h/IMG_3030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SBFdE5X2LaI/AAAAAAAAAKA/WM03XVcHnuY/s400/IMG_3030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193034184036593058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Cuz he's that awesome! I've accepted my role as a mommy blogger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-4601546526682495158?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4601546526682495158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=4601546526682495158' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4601546526682495158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4601546526682495158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/more-of-derek.html' title='More of Derek'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SBFdE5X2LaI/AAAAAAAAAKA/WM03XVcHnuY/s72-c/IMG_3030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-7194569793967915944</id><published>2008-04-22T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T20:19:09.700-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love my hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wordless wednesdays'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesdays</title><content type='html'>I just really want to show off my husband's awesomeness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Penn State Nittany Lion pride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SA6pXJX2LYI/AAAAAAAAAJw/THBFlAnKGgA/s1600-h/paulthelion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SA6pXJX2LYI/AAAAAAAAAJw/THBFlAnKGgA/s400/paulthelion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192273635522784642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Incognito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SA6pW5X2LXI/AAAAAAAAAJo/Y6VvNBBHn3I/s1600-h/IMG_1697.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SA6pW5X2LXI/AAAAAAAAAJo/Y6VvNBBHn3I/s400/IMG_1697.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192273631227817330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Showing off his manliness!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SA6qXpX2LZI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/jXAWocOjhNs/s1600-h/IMG_1486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SA6qXpX2LZI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/jXAWocOjhNs/s400/IMG_1486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192274743624347026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just stinking AWESOME!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-7194569793967915944?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7194569793967915944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=7194569793967915944' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7194569793967915944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7194569793967915944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/wordless-wednesdays.html' title='Wordless Wednesdays'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SA6pXJX2LYI/AAAAAAAAAJw/THBFlAnKGgA/s72-c/paulthelion.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-3247134522392952026</id><published>2008-04-19T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T12:53:07.414-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love my hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><title type='text'>The Two Biggest Blessings of My Life</title><content type='html'>Paul and I were married for 4 years before Derek came along. And I just couldn't imagine life getting any better. How could it??? My husband was the man of my dreams. Dreams I didn't even know I had until God showed me what dreams really were. He far exceeded my expectations in what I thought I would ever find, want or deserve in a spouse. Then came my son. And God just keeps exceeding my expectations, one right after another.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAuexoaeLLI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/WzbcZwxqjYs/s1600-h/IMG_2264.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAuexoaeLLI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/WzbcZwxqjYs/s400/IMG_2264.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191417570973854898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-3247134522392952026?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3247134522392952026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=3247134522392952026' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3247134522392952026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3247134522392952026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/two-biggest-blessings-of-my-life.html' title='The Two Biggest Blessings of My Life'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAuexoaeLLI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/WzbcZwxqjYs/s72-c/IMG_2264.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-2828227714577964616</id><published>2008-04-18T21:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T21:08:54.611-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waving My Tomboy Flag'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><title type='text'>Go Yanks!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Everyone - meet the Yankees new 'Rookie of the Year'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He's being mentored by his namesake - Derek Jeter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAlwAido-kI/AAAAAAAAAJA/6qn99UTVlVo/s1600-h/IMG_3067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190803200074644034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAlwAido-kI/AAAAAAAAAJA/6qn99UTVlVo/s400/IMG_3067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-2828227714577964616?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2828227714577964616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=2828227714577964616' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2828227714577964616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2828227714577964616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/go-yanks.html' title='Go Yanks!!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAlwAido-kI/AAAAAAAAAJA/6qn99UTVlVo/s72-c/IMG_3067.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-6127377557989581376</id><published>2008-04-17T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T09:41:18.230-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Things I Like About Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waving My Tomboy Flag'/><title type='text'>Tomboys of the World - UNITE!</title><content type='html'>My good friend Josh, over at &lt;a href="http://joshmickelson.wordpress.com"&gt;Booyah Achieved&lt;/a&gt;, posted a blog about some of of his pet peeves. One being about girls who say they get along better with boys, which received a kudos response. I felt the need to respond for all those gals who genuinely do feel that they get along better with the fellas.  For I, Teresa, am one of those girls. Let's get some background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up with two brothers, one who is 18 months younger than me, and he was my best friend. And although I loved to play with my barbie dolls, it was much more fun to play matchbox cars with my brother. I had a few girlfriends in the apartment complex we lived in, but my brother and I were inseparable and we played army men and GI Joe with the best of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving onto elementary and middle school, I was so dang small, I was a magnet for bullies. The people that bullied me the most... girls. They were so mean to me and the people that came to my defense... boys. The girls on my block were so cruel, to me and to each other. They gossiped about each other, talked behind each other's back, would give one another a best friend's necklace and then take it back and give it to someone else. It was brutal! And I hated it. I gravitated to the guys on my block who were riding go-carts down the street, playing hide-and-go seek at midnight and ghost in the graveyard. The other girls would just hang out with the boys to try to make-out with them. This annoyed me a great deal. They were distracting from all the fun that was going on! Which made them bully me even more. My middle school years were awful. Except for the guy friends I had. They were great and I will always remember them fondly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By highschool, my penchant for hanging with the boyz was set. Girls were catty and gossipy and were more apt to stab you in the back than my guy friends who were too busy playing computer games to care about talking about me behind my back. The few girls I hung out with were ladies just like me. We were a few gals in a large group of guys. I rarely ever wore makeup, I hated going clothes shopping and more than likely transformed my brothers' clothes into stuff I could wear. I ran with the boyz and generally got into the same kind of trouble that they did. Of course, this had its pros and cons. But for once in my life, I had friends that I could rely on and trust. And I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've gotten older, this has tempered off more. The women I have in my life aren't like the girls I knew in highschool. Maturity does a wonderful thing, on both sides. I finally see the need to have women to confide in, for things that men just don't understand. But my trust factor towards females is small from the real hurt I faced in my childhood. To this day, I choose my female friends very carefully, especially the ones I choose to have in my confidence. I am grateful for each woman that God has placed in my life. And I still keep in touch with those girlfriends that ran with the boyz along side me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, my husband loves my tomboy side. He appreciates my simplicity of life. I still don't like clothes shopping so I never rack up credit card bills. I go to all sorts of sports events with him and even watch with him at home. However, I do put a little more effort into my hair and makeup. There are those girly things I do regret I didn't catch onto sooner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's me, a tomboy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-6127377557989581376?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6127377557989581376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=6127377557989581376' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/6127377557989581376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/6127377557989581376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/tomboys-of-world-unite.html' title='Tomboys of the World - UNITE!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-7901691768907313808</id><published>2008-04-16T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T21:15:40.317-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wordless wednesdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>I got this idea from &lt;a href="http://thebloggess.com"&gt;The Bloggess'&lt;/a&gt; other blog &lt;a href="http://blogs.chron.com/goodmombadmom/"&gt;Good Mom Bad Mom&lt;/a&gt;. Pix instead of words on Wednesdays. So, here tis:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://denverintranslation.com"&gt;Mark Thomas&lt;/a&gt; introduced me to &lt;a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com"&gt;I Can Has Cheezburger&lt;/a&gt;. I dig it big time. This one is for you &lt;a href="http://denverintranslation.com"&gt;Mark&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/2008/04/15/funny-pictures-color-blind-cat-can-never-win/"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-49019" style="word-spacing: 875694px; font-size: 875694px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/funny-pictures-color-blind-cat-rubiks-cube.jpg" alt="humorous pictures" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;see more &lt;a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/"&gt;crazy cat pics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;From there I found &lt;a href="http://ihasahotdog.com"&gt;I Has a Hotdog&lt;/a&gt;. Blogrolled!&lt;a href="http://ihasahotdog.com/2008/04/11/funny-dog-pictures-anytime-u-want-to-talk/"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2698" style="word-spacing: 928231px; font-size: 928231px;" src="http://ihasahotdog.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/funny-dog-pictures-caring-dog-is-here-to-talk.jpg" alt="funny dog pictures" height="500" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see more &lt;a href="http://ihasahotdog.com/"&gt;cute dogs and puppies&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, I can't have wordless Wednesdays without Derek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAbNmydo-jI/AAAAAAAAAI4/n0FZ362CVJk/s1600-h/IMG_3016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAbNmydo-jI/AAAAAAAAAI4/n0FZ362CVJk/s400/IMG_3016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190061686855891506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you and goodnight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-7901691768907313808?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7901691768907313808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=7901691768907313808' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7901691768907313808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7901691768907313808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAbNmydo-jI/AAAAAAAAAI4/n0FZ362CVJk/s72-c/IMG_3016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-3770601817137956773</id><published>2008-04-15T17:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T17:30:18.132-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blogs for your blogroll'/><title type='text'>A New and Informative Blog!</title><content type='html'>My good friend, Krista Ingram, has a blog!!!! Krista has not only been a good friend for the past several years, but also our realtor. So, if you're looking into purchasing or selling a home or just interested in the current housing market, check her out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For her blog go &lt;a href="http://kingram.featuredblog.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For her website go &lt;a href="http://kristaingram.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. When I say check her out, I only mean her website and/or blog. She's married, fellas, to my boss. Who, coincidentally, has a blog that you can find &lt;a href="http://borderingonarrogance.wordpress.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "What a suck-up. Promoting her boss' wife's website in order to gain some sort of promotion in her own job. Brown-noser!" That is unequivocally untrue!! I am greatly offended by you for thinking such things about me! I would never... hey, wait a second... now that I think about what you're thinking about, I guess it couldn't hurt...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-3770601817137956773?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3770601817137956773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=3770601817137956773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3770601817137956773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3770601817137956773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/new-and-informative-blog.html' title='A New and Informative Blog!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-8839055887580500150</id><published>2008-04-14T13:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T13:13:55.829-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Whiny'/><title type='text'>I Not Feeling So Good Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAO62ido-iI/AAAAAAAAAIw/JPgC4oeMiYM/s1600-h/Sick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAO62ido-iI/AAAAAAAAAIw/JPgC4oeMiYM/s400/Sick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189196641787771426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-8839055887580500150?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8839055887580500150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=8839055887580500150' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8839055887580500150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8839055887580500150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-not-feeling-so-good-today.html' title='I Not Feeling So Good Today'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/SAO62ido-iI/AAAAAAAAAIw/JPgC4oeMiYM/s72-c/Sick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-1890179132654421543</id><published>2008-04-10T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T17:55:12.093-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food glorious food'/><title type='text'>I Haven't Lost Any Weight While Writing This Post</title><content type='html'>I've been struggling with my weight since having a baby. There, I've said it. I've been really meditating on this since reading &lt;a href="http://ckstockwell.blogspot.com/2008/04/south-beach.html"&gt;Kelli's&lt;/a&gt; blog, which is some really good food for thought, pun intended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back when I was pregnant, my doctor would say to me, "Be careful about your weight gain because the more you gain the more you'll have to lose." As I responded to her with a simple, "Okay," I was really thinking, "Don't bother me with your 'logic', lady. Your logic really interferes with my desire to eat a Whopper the minute I leave this office."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today &lt;s&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Paul dragged me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  I went with Paul to the gym.  Even though  I know that  working out takes time, I was quite disappointed when the fat hadn't melted off my legs after 30 minutes on the lateral bike and my arms weren't chiseled after 30 minutes of lifting weights. As I walked out to the car, there was this magazine with a large headline, "Getting back to your pre-baby body." I immediately grabbed that magazine and opened the page to the article and was  just as quickly disappointed to find such sensible headings such as, "Diet and Exercise" "Give it Time" and "Eat Breakfast and Break out That Blender."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized something about myself. Every time I see one of those articles, I pick it up hoping for some magic cure to losing weight. I probably know what it's going to say, but I fool myself every time thinking that maybe it will say something different that will cost me very little money and effort, and I emphasize the effort part. Here's what I don't want to do: I don't want to give it time, I don't want to stop eating strawberry toaster strudel, I don't want to exercise 3-5 times a week&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;, and I certainly don't want to break out my blender. I also don't want to lose weight by dangerous surgery or taking some weird pill. I'm that person who is hoping for some magic lose-weight cure-all that won't hurt my body but the pounds will just melt away. -sigh-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's back to the gym. Hello sensibility, bye-bye toaster strudel (o, how I've loved thee). Hello sweat, good-bye sitting around on my butt. I will set my sights to eating healthier (maybe gluten-free again since that's what I should be doing), working out more and dreaming of foods I really shouldn't eat. However, I still refuse to break out my blender. That's just silly.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R_61ri1JwWI/AAAAAAAAAIo/9cFLj_PPM-0/s1600-h/workout_cartoon.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R_61ri1JwWI/AAAAAAAAAIo/9cFLj_PPM-0/s400/workout_cartoon.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187783580466135394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Paul/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-3.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Paul/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-4.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-1890179132654421543?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1890179132654421543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=1890179132654421543' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1890179132654421543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1890179132654421543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-havent-lost-any-weight-while-writing.html' title='I Haven&apos;t Lost Any Weight While Writing This Post'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R_61ri1JwWI/AAAAAAAAAIo/9cFLj_PPM-0/s72-c/workout_cartoon.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-4226965958507924031</id><published>2008-04-04T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T19:39:14.622-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wounded'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><title type='text'>Fragile And Feeling It</title><content type='html'>I'm singing at a friend's funeral tomorrow. He died of cancer.  I sang at another friend's funeral almost 4 years ago to the day who also died of complications relating to cancer. I sang at a 2-year old girl's funeral back in 2002 who died of a brain tumor. And I have to say that tonight, I'm angry. I'm angry at this disease that takes people that are much too young to leave this world. I'm angry at dying young. I'm angry at cancer. To be honest, I'm a little angry at God. Not in a relationship shaking way, but in a very honest, "Why?" kind of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cancer touches all of us in so many ways. Everyone knows someone who has gone through treatment, on remission, fighting it or passed on. And I think that I'm mourning tonight for all of the ways it has effected me and my family and my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In some way, the death of a loved one is always a reminder to live. And I always regret that it takes someone's passing to remind me how very precious and fragile the life we live is. I know that I should listen to my spirit that says that death is the ultimate healing, the ultimate victory. Where is that line between holding onto my faith and being honest about what I feel? I know that we are not creatures led by our emotions, but God created them within us for a reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight, I give these emotions to God and ask Him to help me through. I'm angry, sad, mournful and.... yes, I'll admit it, scared. I don't want to live my life in fear, but I am a little afraid. Afraid of a world I don't understand and the fragility that comes with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-4226965958507924031?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4226965958507924031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=4226965958507924031' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4226965958507924031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4226965958507924031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/fragile-and-feeling-it.html' title='Fragile And Feeling It'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-672878388559233257</id><published>2008-04-03T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T23:33:38.432-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><title type='text'>My Love-Hate Relationship With Thursdays</title><content type='html'>I've always loved Thursdays, my absolute favorite day. When I worked a normal Mon-Fri job, I loved them because they were the most hopeful day of the week to me. They weren't Fridays where you thought all day long about how you just wish the day was over so your weekend could start. But, Thursdays, you can still be productive and know that the week is almost over, the weekend is at hand, a light at the end of the tunnel. You're past hump day and on the final stretch. I think you catch my drift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago I started working at my church and my work week became Sun-Thurs. So, now my love for Thursdays has mixed with the fact that it is now my last day of the week. AND it's rehearsal day for Sunday service. I get to end my week on a day I already loved doing something I love doing - music!  There is so much to love about Thursday! As I'm typing this, I'm thinking to myself, "Am seriously blogging about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt;??? Why, yes. Yes I am." And I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Well, now wouldn't that make Thursdays like Fridays and now Wednesdays should receive that love that Thursdays have always had?" The answer to that is, "No." Wednesdays will never be to me what Thursdays are (sorry Wednesdays), and Thursdays will never be filled with anxious anticipation the way that Fridays are. I've obviously put a lot of thought into this.... which I'm now sort of ashamed about, and yet, slightly proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so now my son comes into the picture. And I love my son way more than I love Thursdays, which should go without saying, but I'm just saying. Since we have rehearsals on Thursday nights, I don't get home until after he's gone to sleep for the evening. For awhile there it was okay cause he was still doing middle of night feedings and I would still get to see him shortly after I got home from work. However, he's now sleeping totally through the night, which I'm very thankful for. I'm thankful that he sleeps through the night. Except for Thursdays. Now I hate Thursdays. Stupid Thursdays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R_XDPeD7xMI/AAAAAAAAAIg/EIFEqXSgFRQ/s1600-h/IMG_2996.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R_XDPeD7xMI/AAAAAAAAAIg/EIFEqXSgFRQ/s400/IMG_2996.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185265216522011842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-672878388559233257?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/672878388559233257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=672878388559233257' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/672878388559233257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/672878388559233257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-love-hate-relationship-with.html' title='My Love-Hate Relationship With Thursdays'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R_XDPeD7xMI/AAAAAAAAAIg/EIFEqXSgFRQ/s72-c/IMG_2996.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-7675614056581409165</id><published>2008-04-01T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T20:01:21.215-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><title type='text'>Derek Wants to Say Hey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R_L20OD7xLI/AAAAAAAAAIY/EvX2CdPDRRo/s1600-h/Derek_Hey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R_L20OD7xLI/AAAAAAAAAIY/EvX2CdPDRRo/s400/Derek_Hey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184477498045088946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-7675614056581409165?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7675614056581409165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=7675614056581409165' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7675614056581409165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7675614056581409165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/04/derek-wants-to-say-hey.html' title='Derek Wants to Say Hey'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R_L20OD7xLI/AAAAAAAAAIY/EvX2CdPDRRo/s72-c/Derek_Hey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-5482580096646391669</id><published>2008-03-30T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T08:58:33.404-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love my hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><title type='text'>My Husband Just Does Not Get Blogging....</title><content type='html'>Conversation I just had with my husband as we're sitting together, "reading"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paul: How's that book coming along?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Just give me a minute. I just want to check my Technorati rating real quick.&lt;br /&gt;Paul: While you're at it, you wanna check your dork rating?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'm blogging that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That conversation is officially blogged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Update: After I wrote this blog, Paul stayed up for another hour and a half fixing his blog. Let's talk dorky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-5482580096646391669?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5482580096646391669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=5482580096646391669' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5482580096646391669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5482580096646391669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-husband-just-does-not-get-blogging.html' title='My Husband Just Does Not Get Blogging....'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-1742467646154509087</id><published>2008-03-24T22:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T23:07:38.458-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love my hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>Shamed Into Isolation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I remember after a year of being married I was talking to a gal who had been married 6 months. All of the sudden, we started sharing all of these ridiculous scenarios in our home lives and the bumps we'd faced being newly married. I mentioned that 6 months into my marriage, I realized that sleeping on the couch wasn't having its intended effect and was only hurting me.  Her mouth dropped wide open as she said, "You did that, too???" And I think, for the first time, I realized that people are really suffering from the same things that everyone else is. 1 Peter 5:9 says "...because you know that your fellow believers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings." Now, I'm sure the author was referring to more intense sufferings than, oh say, not putting the receipts on the desk because your husband has asked you to multiple times and you will not be talked to and reminded of things like a child! But, I digress. I'm sure Peter was referring to harder trials than that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Paul and I had dinner with some friends of ours and they asked how we liked being parents. I was unable to suppress how I was really adapting to parenthood, which has been a rocky adjustment at best. I mentioned my postpartum depression and how it's been difficult for me. It's been a very angry depression (insert sympathy for Paul here). The gal of this couple we ate with talked about her bouts of postpartum depression and a massive amount of freedom overcame me as I verbally vomited all over her as she completely empathized with my feelings of inadequacy and guilt. And the shame that I've felt that I'm not the superwoman that I thought I was. I should be able to be the perfect wife, mother and employee. Why is this so hard? Why don't I want to stay home with my kid? Why do I have the desire to fall asleep at 9pm when I used to be able to stay up and watch Conan? Why do I resent that my life has changed? What kind of mother am I for feeling that way? This can't be normal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And I found out tonight that it is normal. Isn't that the way it always is? We hide our fears, desires, thoughts, etc. out of some sense of shame that nobody could possibly be thinking/feeling/wanting the same things we think/feel/want. But, if I can just get out of my head and my shame I will find comfort in the fact that I am, for example, not the only wife who &lt;/span&gt;&lt;s style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;sleeps &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; lies awake all night on the couch in a vain effort to punish my husband which only ends up hurting me cause my husband is sound asleep, snoring like a little kitten while I anguish on the couch, and I'm left sleep-deprived with a crick in my neck and a sore back. Again, I digress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So, in this struggle that I'm still very much in, I will endeavor to get out of my head and share the heartaches I've felt in my becoming a mom with those women whom God has placed in my life to be that sounding board. I will make an effort to get out my isolated cocoon of shame  and understand that I cannot be the only  one feeling these emotions I feel.  However, I  will keep a few things to myself, because there are those things that I'm sure could have me committed and/or arrested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-1742467646154509087?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1742467646154509087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=1742467646154509087' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1742467646154509087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1742467646154509087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/03/shamed-into-isolation.html' title='Shamed Into Isolation'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-4090242600153406227</id><published>2008-03-19T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T08:56:58.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There's Always Derek</title><content type='html'>On days when I would like to blog but have nothing really to blog about.... there's always Derek. Enjoy!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R-E3meT75NI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/7PEtSkFlKe0/s1600-h/IMG_2857.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R-E3meT75NI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/7PEtSkFlKe0/s400/IMG_2857.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179482180564018386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-4090242600153406227?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4090242600153406227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=4090242600153406227' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4090242600153406227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4090242600153406227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/03/theres-always-derek.html' title='There&apos;s Always Derek'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R-E3meT75NI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/7PEtSkFlKe0/s72-c/IMG_2857.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-2007968635180699922</id><published>2008-03-11T22:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T22:23:25.455-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><title type='text'>Back By Popular Demand</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;You've asked for it and you got it..... more Derek!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My little nugget in his jumparoo. Note how his feet don't touch the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R9dk4OT75KI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Ly3ITd1Bgv0/s1600-h/IMG_2817.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R9dk4OT75KI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Ly3ITd1Bgv0/s400/IMG_2817.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176717213762839714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;More of him in the jumparoo, exuding his general awesomeness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R9dk4uT75LI/AAAAAAAAAIA/tUE0x_ozrr0/s1600-h/IMG_2834.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R9dk4uT75LI/AAAAAAAAAIA/tUE0x_ozrr0/s400/IMG_2834.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176717222352774322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Feeding himself.... oh yea, that's good stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R9dk5OT75MI/AAAAAAAAAII/shXRVPgzIw4/s1600-h/IMG_2840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R9dk5OT75MI/AAAAAAAAAII/shXRVPgzIw4/s400/IMG_2840.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176717230942708930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He's giggling now and laughing at everything. He's an incredibly happy baby. How is it that I'm so blessed??? I'm not sure, but I sure am glad about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-2007968635180699922?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2007968635180699922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=2007968635180699922' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2007968635180699922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2007968635180699922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/03/back-by-popular-demand.html' title='Back By Popular Demand'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R9dk4OT75KI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Ly3ITd1Bgv0/s72-c/IMG_2817.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-2317028976208355729</id><published>2008-03-10T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T16:34:47.995-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>A Life of Testosterone</title><content type='html'>Yes, my job is in a music department for a church, but it's all male. After a day of dealing with all men I come home to my husband, son and male dog. I thought growing up with two brothers and no sisters was a handful, but this takes the cake. And every single one of these men, minus my son who can't talk yet, feels the need to tease me to no end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need more estrogen in my life. A call to all women I know and love, please hang with me more. I need you, desperately!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-2317028976208355729?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2317028976208355729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=2317028976208355729' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2317028976208355729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2317028976208355729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/life-of-testosterone.html' title='A Life of Testosterone'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-5641929387066365594</id><published>2008-03-07T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T15:16:22.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Child's Take on Disneyland</title><content type='html'>As I was driving my 4 yr. old nephew today we had this little conversation. Please note that there was no prompting or any previous conversation on the topic. He just brought this up out of the blue:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asher: Mickey Mouse is evil.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why's that?&lt;br /&gt;Asher: Cause he comes out of my tv set. He's evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That one's for you, Mark. Since, you're down on all things Disneyland.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-5641929387066365594?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5641929387066365594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=5641929387066365594' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5641929387066365594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5641929387066365594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/03/childs-take-on-disneyland.html' title='A Child&apos;s Take on Disneyland'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-7874585429574484372</id><published>2008-03-03T22:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T22:23:25.457-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><title type='text'>Amazing!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Derek's 5 month pic. Holy crap is this a cute kid! And I'm not just saying this  because I'm his mother.... ok, maybe a little - but's he's stinkin' cute!  You can't deny that!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R8znGoFqF5I/AAAAAAAAAHw/_B3llig0JKw/s1600-h/IMG_2859.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R8znGoFqF5I/AAAAAAAAAHw/_B3llig0JKw/s400/IMG_2859.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173764172968236946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-7874585429574484372?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7874585429574484372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=7874585429574484372' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7874585429574484372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7874585429574484372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/03/amazing.html' title='Amazing!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R8znGoFqF5I/AAAAAAAAAHw/_B3llig0JKw/s72-c/IMG_2859.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-3406191276543033400</id><published>2008-03-01T08:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T09:09:59.960-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my dog reese that&apos;s not named after my pastor'/><title type='text'>A Small Horse Named Reese</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R8mMcqHqrRI/AAAAAAAAAHo/g6W2k05r0c4/s1600-h/reesehisfavorite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R8mMcqHqrRI/AAAAAAAAAHo/g6W2k05r0c4/s400/reesehisfavorite.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172820070982397202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading &lt;a href="http://www.thebloggess.com/"&gt;The Bloggess&lt;/a&gt; and she just lost her cat after a long struggle to save him. I realized that I have never blogged about my incredibly large chocolate lab named Reese. And no, for all those who go to church with me, we did not name him after our pastor.&lt;br /&gt;We took Reese in when he was 7 months old. My younger brother had rescued him. He was being trained to be a hunting dog when he had some strange accident that left him paralyzed on one side of his face. The vet was told that he was chewing on a stick and it went through the roof of his mouth. The owner was going to have him put to sleep and  the vet asked if he could try to find him a home first. My brother took him in, but being a young lab, he was a little too much for the family. Paul had a chocolate lab once when living in PA and he had an instant connection with Reese. We took Reese in and he became our baby.&lt;br /&gt;Paul proceeded to spoil this dog. Reese thinks he's a human. He always needs to be around people. He's hogs the couch. Literally. If we're laying on the couch, he'll jump up and start stretching out, eventually forcing you off the couch. He starts barking at O'dark thirty and wakes everyone up cause apparently he can no longer stand being alone. He loves licking the lotion of my legs cause he just loves the taste of it. He opens the trash can with his nose and then runs to hide when he hears us coming to make him stop. He locks himself in the basement bathroom in the middle of the night and then barks to wake us up to let him out.&lt;br /&gt;I found that in my postpartum depression, I've been incredibly impatient with him and I get very angry at him for always being underfoot. But, I liken his love to God's love. No matter how much I dismiss him or shove him aside, he always greets me with a wagging tail when I come home from work. He comes to say good morning every morning and always has kisses for me. Now, I'm not saying that God licks my face - but no matter how little I pay attention to him, he loves me anyway. That's unconditional love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-3406191276543033400?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3406191276543033400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=3406191276543033400' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3406191276543033400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3406191276543033400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/03/small-horse-named-reese.html' title='A Small Horse Named Reese'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R8mMcqHqrRI/AAAAAAAAAHo/g6W2k05r0c4/s72-c/reesehisfavorite.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-9034703796138316479</id><published>2008-02-28T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T10:52:21.752-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i heart stephen colbert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Colbert Handles Starbucks Closing With Aplomb</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed FlashVars='videoId=156645' src='http://www.comedycentral.com/sitewide/video_player/view/default/swf.jhtml' quality='high' bgcolor='#cccccc' width='332' height='316' name='comedy_central_player' align='middle' allowScriptAccess='always' allownetworking='external' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-9034703796138316479?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/9034703796138316479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=9034703796138316479' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/9034703796138316479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/9034703796138316479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/colbert-handles-starbucks-closing-with.html' title='Colbert Handles Starbucks Closing With Aplomb'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-4859034871013832088</id><published>2008-02-25T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T20:43:57.905-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love my hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='entertainment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Oscars - European Conspiracy</title><content type='html'>I watched the Oscars last night and I loved it. I haven't watched them in awhile and I just enjoy watching them. My family used to play this game where each of us would guess who would win for each category and whomever got it right would go around and get to smack everyone five times. It sounds like it could pretty painful, but it never did. Five love taps on the arm. So, the Oscars are a little nostalgic for me. I tried playing the game with Paul, who was in the guest room watching something sports-irific. I kept playing the game with him, even though he wasn't participating. He wasn't too thrilled about it, but I was. It's not everyday I get to smack my husband around, but I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, there were quite a few upsets last night. I didn't have the chance to see many of these movies, being a new mom and all, but you really can gauge a lot from those clips. Javier Bardem from "No Country for Old Men" was definitely going to take it. As was Daniel Day-Lewis, I mean, this guy is incredible in everything he's in. The absolute surprise was Marion Cotillard for "La Vie en Rose". I knew she deserved it. Which is awesome. Cause the actor/actress who &lt;em&gt;deserves&lt;/em&gt; the Oscar doesn't always get it. Maybe it goes to the sentimental favorite. Or it goes to the person who seems to be hot on some agenda. I'm sorry, Denzel Washington is amazing, but he shouldn't have won it for 'Training Day'. Back to my point, the young and lovely Ms. Cotillard transformed into the aging Edith Piaf. She deserved the Oscar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this said, people are now talking about how the Oscars are as American as apple pie (huh?) and it is just shocking that no Americans won any of the top acting nods. What??? Srsly? Are we actually talking about this? People are, as I type this, analyzing why no Americans won an Oscar. For real? I love me some pop culture news shows, but this is ridiculous! I heard it compared to sports. "A European winning an Oscar is like Japan winning the Super Bowl." I'm sorry, really? We're comparing the Oscars to the Super Bowl? That's like comparing apples to sausages. Mmmmmmm..... sausages. Again, I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'mon news magazine correspondents. This just makes you look a mite too desperate for stuff to pontificate on, and I'm being nice cause when Britney or Lindsay aren't having a down day - you really do reach for the bottom of the barrel. It's okay if there's not much to talk about for the Oscars. It really is. We won't think you're huge failures if you don't find something to complain about, or find some sort of scandal where there is none. Put the camera down, just put the camera down. Some celebrity will do something stupid tonight and this whole "Nothing terribly scandalous happened with the Oscars" fiasco will all be over tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-4859034871013832088?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4859034871013832088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=4859034871013832088' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4859034871013832088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4859034871013832088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/oscars-european-conspiracy.html' title='Oscars - European Conspiracy'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-8168713690242532195</id><published>2008-02-22T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T12:13:40.512-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>Derek Health Update - Part Deux</title><content type='html'>So, we just got back from the cardiologist and the sickest person in the room was Mommy with a migraine. He's completely healthy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first made the appointment, I was nervous that I would be a wreck as the day approached. But, I was reminded of all the wonderful things that were spoken over him when he still in my womb and the promises that God made to me about this little boy. Then, my pastor and friend told me that he really just had a peace about his condition. That was a great confirmation for me. With all the prayers and good thoughts being sent our way, I almost forgot that we had the appointment today. I wasn't nervous or anxious. Which is HUGE for me. I'm anxious over &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They did he EKG and took his vitals and he was so active and incredible through the entire process. He was still when he had to be and all the doctors and techs were very impressed with him. The cardiologists came in to do his clinical exam and said that from his EKG and just by looking at him, they were confident that he didn't have any sort of heart failure. If he did have a problem with his heart, he'd have more symptoms than just falling off the growth curve. They listened to his heart and heard no sound of a murmur. However, to be "overly cautious" and for insurance reasons, they decided to do the ECHO to see if he still had the small hole in his ventricle. They did the ECHO and the hole is completely closed! His heart is entirely healthy!!! There is no need for us to ever go back to the cardiology department at Children's Hospital again. One of the doctor's said she was sad she would never see him again, because he's just so dang cute. I told her that I was glad she would never see him again, no offense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the miracle - the pediatrician heard that murmur in his heart only 3 weeks ago. That hole closed in 3 weeks! I cried and Paul laughed at me. Paul said to Derek, "That's a mommy for you, she'll cry when you're sick and she'll cry when you're healthy. Get used to it, kid." To celebrate, we're buying him a jumperoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My faith in the Lord continues to become more and more unshakable. We weren't just praying for Derek to be healthy, we were praying for that hole to be closed. I have to say that God continues to answer my prayers in ways that leave me in complete awe. He constantly exceeds my expectations in what I seek and ask for. I believed that the VSD would close, but I didn't expect for it to happen this quickly. For this, I am speechless and can only get on my knees and be utterly thankful... for everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a pic of my healthy and whole little guy. And because he's just so g-darn cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R78rxl6TF-I/AAAAAAAAAHY/7NE7MfFyAWA/s1600-h/IMG_2616.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R78rxl6TF-I/AAAAAAAAAHY/7NE7MfFyAWA/s400/IMG_2616.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169899028234835938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-8168713690242532195?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8168713690242532195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=8168713690242532195' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8168713690242532195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8168713690242532195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/derek-health-update-part-deux.html' title='Derek Health Update - Part Deux'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R78rxl6TF-I/AAAAAAAAAHY/7NE7MfFyAWA/s72-c/IMG_2616.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-8028852738719980294</id><published>2008-02-19T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T17:50:39.098-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Happy Day!</title><content type='html'>One of the coolest people on the planet now has a blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.borderingonarrogance.wordpress.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the blogosphere PA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-8028852738719980294?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8028852738719980294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=8028852738719980294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8028852738719980294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8028852738719980294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/oh-happy-day.html' title='Oh Happy Day!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-4432313235329896658</id><published>2008-02-14T21:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T21:46:02.225-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><title type='text'>Oh Fer Cute!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Srsly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R7Umu16TF9I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Mrm3ow3wKqA/s1600-h/IMG_2633.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R7Umu16TF9I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Mrm3ow3wKqA/s400/IMG_2633.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167078733664950226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-4432313235329896658?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4432313235329896658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=4432313235329896658' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4432313235329896658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4432313235329896658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/oh-fer-cute.html' title='Oh Fer Cute!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R7Umu16TF9I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Mrm3ow3wKqA/s72-c/IMG_2633.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-3606960319786287389</id><published>2008-02-11T22:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T22:44:02.874-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wounded'/><title type='text'>Open Flesh Wound</title><content type='html'>There are times in my life when I feel open and vulnerable. As if I have a large gaping wound in my gut for the world to see. I feel desperate and needy. My soul crying out to be healed. I'm not sure why or when it comes. And it seems to come at the most interesting times. My life is good. My life is absolutely wonderful. I have a faith that fulfills me more than anything I've ever known, an incredible husband, a beautiful son, a job that comes pretty close to being a dream-job and the endless encouragement of family and friends that surround me. I have a life filled with love. And yet, there are times, like tonight, where I feel like my guts are laid out on the floor and I'm bleeding all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;I've never been able to define this feeling that comes and goes like a tornado ravaging my being. It does feel that intense. Where my insecurities rise to the surface and I feel them so acutely. Insecurities that I was sure I dealt with so long ago come back to haunt me. I ask the Lord,&lt;br /&gt;   "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;   "Haven't we dealt with this?"&lt;br /&gt;   "Haven't I moved past this?"&lt;br /&gt;   "Haven't I given this over to You?"&lt;br /&gt;I search deep within to find any shred of evidence as to what might be in my life to bring these things to the surface. I want to move past these places that remind me of a hurt little girl from yesteryear. To be the grown-up I always admired in people but never felt in myself. You know that feeling when you're a freshman in highschool and all the seniors look so grown-up and mature and by the time you become a senior you think to yourself, "I don't feel the way those seniors in my freshmen year looked"? Yes, that feeling.&lt;br /&gt;I have adult-like surroundings. House, spouse, child, job.... and I just don't feel like all those adults looked to me as a child. Will I ever feel that way?&lt;br /&gt;I put my hope in God,&lt;br /&gt;   "I believe You'll get me through this."&lt;br /&gt;   "I'm open and willing, with my guts on the floor."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-3606960319786287389?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3606960319786287389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=3606960319786287389' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3606960319786287389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3606960319786287389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/open-flesh-wound.html' title='Open Flesh Wound'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-6776281396485781249</id><published>2008-02-09T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T21:31:25.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Derek Health Update</title><content type='html'>I took the D-man in for blood tests on Monday.  The results are good! Everything came back looking just fine. No problems with his kidney and thyroid. Next is the trip to the cardiologist, where I'm positive they'll tell us that he's just fine. Other than the being small thing, he has absolutely NO signs of a kid with any sort of heart problems. That appointment is on the 22nd of this month, so please keep us in mind on that day, in your heart and in prayer. And here's an awesome pic of my healthy little nugget!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R66MAl6TF8I/AAAAAAAAAHI/oA4WfJPLQtE/s1600-h/IMG_2662.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R66MAl6TF8I/AAAAAAAAAHI/oA4WfJPLQtE/s400/IMG_2662.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165219764445059010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-6776281396485781249?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6776281396485781249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=6776281396485781249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/6776281396485781249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/6776281396485781249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/derek-health-update.html' title='Derek Health Update'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R66MAl6TF8I/AAAAAAAAAHI/oA4WfJPLQtE/s72-c/IMG_2662.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-1673330488812482723</id><published>2008-02-04T22:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T22:25:08.178-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food glorious food'/><title type='text'>This Kid Means Business</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R6gBJl8PgCI/AAAAAAAAAGo/RA8kxoPK-jE/s1600-h/derek_gangsta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R6gBJl8PgCI/AAAAAAAAAGo/RA8kxoPK-jE/s400/derek_gangsta.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163378237095510050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-1673330488812482723?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1673330488812482723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=1673330488812482723' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1673330488812482723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1673330488812482723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-kid-means-business.html' title='This Kid Means Business'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R6gBJl8PgCI/AAAAAAAAAGo/RA8kxoPK-jE/s72-c/derek_gangsta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-8276780813053447435</id><published>2008-02-02T19:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T20:25:45.259-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prayer'/><title type='text'>Derek - How Do I Love Thee...</title><content type='html'>We fed Derek his first solids today. A lovely rice cereal that got everywhere. And he loved it! In fact, I couldn't shovel it in his mouth fast enough. He'd get so impatient in between bites that he'd either start fussing or suck the portion of his bib that had rice cereal on it. Here are some pics of the "Rice Cereal Adventure".&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R6U-KV8Pf-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/jkIRyF9hdPE/s1600-h/IMG_2650.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R6U-KV8Pf-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/jkIRyF9hdPE/s320/IMG_2650.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162600895259574242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R6U-K18Pf_I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/J4UYimP2CL8/s1600-h/IMG_2652.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R6U-K18Pf_I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/J4UYimP2CL8/s320/IMG_2652.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162600903849508850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On a more serious note, I took Derek to his 4 month appointment yesterday. When they weighed him and I saw that he was only 10lbs, 1oz. - I knew that wasn't right. When the doctor came in, he expressed concern over Derek's growth. He has fallen of the growth curve. The first step is to go to the cardiologist. When he was born, he was born with a small hole in his ventrical called VSD, which in essence is a heart murmur. We took him to the pediatric cardiologist when he was 5 days old and she said that it's so small and since he was showing no signs of heart problems, it would probably close up by itself with no surgical intervention. Our only follow-up would be to check back in a year to see if it had closed. Because he's not growing very much, the issue has to be addressed again. If it's not his heart, they will check his kidneys and thyroid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course his mother is vertically challenged and this could be all my fault, and I pray that's what it is. The doctor has taken that into account, but he shouldn't be off the growth curve completely. So, my son has to have a battery of tests done to see why he's so small. So, if you pray - please send a pray up to the Lord for him. And for me. Paul's a rock and his faith is rarely shaken, but I'm not feeling as strong. Friday was hard, but today was a little easier. And I'm sure each day will be as I walk out a path towards my little boy's perfect health.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-8276780813053447435?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8276780813053447435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=8276780813053447435' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8276780813053447435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8276780813053447435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/02/derek-how-do-i-love-thee.html' title='Derek - How Do I Love Thee...'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R6U-KV8Pf-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/jkIRyF9hdPE/s72-c/IMG_2650.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-1379676203977024737</id><published>2008-01-25T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T20:09:31.588-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><title type='text'>Bored Out of My Gourd!</title><content type='html'>It's Friday night and I am incredibly bored. Which is sad. So, I've been surfing for the past.... eh... few hours, and I'm still really bored. I'm so bored that I looked up what a "gourd" was and it's a dried fruit nut. Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idle hands really are the devil's playground. I've been searching the net so much this evening I was almost tempted to click on one of those psychic links. Not because I even remotely believe in that, but I'd be amused to see what it says. I resisted that urge. I can think of a million things I could be doing right now.  I could be practicing my guitar that has a layer of dust on it. I could be putting together this puzzle that my husband and I bought to have a hobby at home but have only touched once. But, alas, I sit here channel-surfing and web-surfing. LAME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could be praying. Which is probably why I feel so restless and nothing is gratifying. I have the dry feeling that you get when you haven't had a glass of water all day and then all of the sudden you realize that you're incredibly thirsty. Why do we push off spending that intimate time with God? Why do we push off the things we need, no matter how much it calls out to us? It's the same vicious cycle. I spend time with God - I feel better - God-time decreases - I feel restless and unsure and wonder why - I realize that it's been awhile since I spent some quality prayer, worship and bible time - I spend time with God... and the cycle begins again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so much more content with myself and the world around me when I do the things I need to do. Drink more water, exercise, eat well , take my vitamins, eat more fiber... (too much information??), spend more time with my Creator. And I avoid these things cause... I'm not sure I have the answer to that. (Well, I know why I don't exercise - cause exertion really goes against my desire to sit.)  I could say laziness but I don't think it's that (other than the exercise thing). Lack of discipline, maybe. Lack of motivation, definitely. The only thing that cures motivation is doing something, but how do you find the motivation to cure your motivation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least for tonight, I've motivated myself enough to go seek the Lord in prayer, study the Word (not just get my daily bible reading in) and "get my praise on" (as my hubby would say). And it will be a win-win for me cause I can do it while sitting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-1379676203977024737?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1379676203977024737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=1379676203977024737' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1379676203977024737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1379676203977024737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/bored-out-of-my-gourd.html' title='Bored Out of My Gourd!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-7119767014149143740</id><published>2008-01-22T20:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T20:51:58.922-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Derek, Derek, Derek... we could all use more of Derek!</title><content type='html'>Paul and I got this awesome gift from his boss of a picture frame to capture each month of our child's first year. His full name is printed across the top. So, every month on the 1st, we take a bunch of pics of him. We choose one to add to the collage. This month's pics were awesome! Here's what I mean....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Awesome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R5bFdl8Pf3I/AAAAAAAAAFU/8ZZIO-13Nf0/s1600-h/IMG_2530.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R5bFdl8Pf3I/AAAAAAAAAFU/8ZZIO-13Nf0/s320/IMG_2530.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158527535391145842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More of the awesomeness&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R5bFeV8Pf4I/AAAAAAAAAFc/HYxc3mCnyQk/s1600-h/IMG_2542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R5bFeV8Pf4I/AAAAAAAAAFc/HYxc3mCnyQk/s320/IMG_2542.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158527548276047746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most awesome-est of all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R5bFe18Pf5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/lhJSBaJs774/s1600-h/IMG_2533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R5bFe18Pf5I/AAAAAAAAAFk/lhJSBaJs774/s320/IMG_2533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158527556865982354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, we chose this one. For the sake of our son not hating us for choosing incredibly goofy pics of him and showing them off on the wall to all of his friends and future girlfriends. But, let's be honest, the  awesome-osity that our son exudes can be seen in this pic as well.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R5bHG18Pf7I/AAAAAAAAAF0/AiaUpwgN5Us/s1600-h/IMG_2550.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R5bHG18Pf7I/AAAAAAAAAF0/AiaUpwgN5Us/s320/IMG_2550.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158529343572377522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-7119767014149143740?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7119767014149143740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=7119767014149143740' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7119767014149143740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7119767014149143740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/derek-derek-derek-we-could-all-use-more.html' title='Derek, Derek, Derek... we could all use more of Derek!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R5bFdl8Pf3I/AAAAAAAAAFU/8ZZIO-13Nf0/s72-c/IMG_2530.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-6252473934435251064</id><published>2008-01-18T16:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T16:48:19.926-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>A New Way of Voting</title><content type='html'>With the candidates and the state of politics the way it is, I think I've found my new way of voting. This is also reason #234 why I love Stephen Colbert. Oh and Disclaimer: this is in no way an endorsement of any party or candidate. Please be my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed FlashVars='videoId=147836' src='http://www.comedycentral.com/sitewide/video_player/view/default/swf.jhtml' quality='high' bgcolor='#cccccc' width='332' height='316' name='comedy_central_player' align='middle' allowScriptAccess='always' allownetworking='external' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-6252473934435251064?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6252473934435251064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=6252473934435251064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/6252473934435251064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/6252473934435251064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-way-of-voting.html' title='A New Way of Voting'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-4623692835059853591</id><published>2008-01-15T20:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T20:55:09.428-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><title type='text'>How Sweet the Sound</title><content type='html'>In mid-September, Paul and I went to meet with our doula (birthing coach). When we got there, we were introduced to this lady named Joan (pronounced jo-ann). An elderly lady, she was once a member of our church but had since moved into her dream house in a small mountain town. She had recently been hospitalized and was having to stay in the city due to health reasons, but she was antsy to get back to her home. She was hoping to head back within the next day or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a delightful conversation. This was our first time meeting, but she had remembered me from singing at the church, which was so sweet. I played Mary in a Christmas play and she mentioned that. We talked about being pregnant and the differences between giving birth today and giving birth when she had children. No drugs whatsoever. All natural. I told her that I was thankful for my option for the drugs. We just had a pretty instant connection. As I chatted with her, Diane (our doula) and Paul waited for me to finish my conversation so we could begin talking about our birthing process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we left, I went to her room to say goodbye. She was looking out the window very longingly and you could sense her desire to be somewhere else. Though she loved the family that she was staying with, it wasn't her home and that was where she wanted to be. On September 30th, I was entering the hospital to deliver my son and she was entering the hospital because she had taken a turn for the worse. Today, I sang at her memorial service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Honored' is not a strong enough word to describe how I felt when I received the call on Friday and told that she specifically asked for me to sing at her service. But 'honored' is the best that the English language has given me. It got me to thinking about how much we affect the people we come into contact with everyday, be it positively or negatively. I'm sure I've impacted people negatively, but today I was shown that I had made an impact in such a positive manner that I was thought of in this woman's preparations for her final celebration on this earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat in her memorial service and watched the people she had touched. She led a beautiful life and you could see it in the tears that were shed for their loss. Her family put together a slideshow of her life, beginning at 4 months of age to her last year. She was in her 70's and had led a very rich and full life. It was also a life devoted to Christ. She touched my heart on that morning in September and she inspired me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to live a life of impact. Where the love of Christ can be evident in the way I live, both here and now and after I go home to be with the Lord. Not for my sake or my own name, but for His.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-4623692835059853591?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4623692835059853591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=4623692835059853591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4623692835059853591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4623692835059853591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-sweet-sound.html' title='How Sweet the Sound'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-2545611434411562341</id><published>2008-01-11T12:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T12:04:24.500-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>I'm Sorry, Could You Please Repeat That?</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/K1Y6PchDYfw&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K1Y6PchDYfw&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-2545611434411562341?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2545611434411562341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=2545611434411562341' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2545611434411562341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2545611434411562341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/im-sorry-could-you-please-repeat-that.html' title='I&apos;m Sorry, Could You Please Repeat That?'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-358016176583954495</id><published>2008-01-10T09:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T19:58:44.326-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i love my hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food glorious food'/><title type='text'>Things My Husband Should Make For You, But Probably Never Will</title><content type='html'>Unless you are a friend and we have you over for dinner. Which we do quite often, so it really does pay to be my friend. I'm okay with being used for my husband's cooking. I just want to win the popularity contest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tonight, my good ol' hubby is making his amazing Chicken Cordon Bleu. He's not making it for me, he's making it for a friend (see, it pays to be his friend, too). My husband is a pretty amazing cook. He's always been a better cook than me. He's better than me at most things except for music. Music's mine and he can't have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it reminded me of a story I thought I'd share. When we first got married, all I really knew how to cook was spaghetti. And not the Ragu stuff. Granted, I don't make it from fresh tomatoes, but the ability season tomato sauce is a skill. It really is, so say I. Well, in our first week of marriage, I decided to venture and make him Tator Tot Hotdish. So, I make this dish and it was AWFUL! It wasn't a casserole, it was some sort of milky soupy thing with veggies, bland meat and soggy tator tots, with cheese on top. I cried and he ate, declaring it's goodness. He even ate a second helping and took some for work the next day. Although I knew that he was suffering by eating this crap on a plate, I thought, "Oh, how romantic. He eats my food even when it's bad." (Later on down the road in our marriage I realized that my husband is a "waste-not, want-not" kind of guy. He'll eat anything as horrific as it may be as long we're not wasting the meat that cost us money.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was struggling to make a simple casserole, he's making shrimp scampi, chicken cordon bleu, stuffed peppers, homemade french fries and the list just goes on and on. There's nothing this man can't cook. He honestly makes the best turkey at Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, he's making on of my favorite meals and I'll come home from work for chicken, garlic mashed potatoes and sauteed green beans w/ a salad. And food is so exciting to me, I thought I'd blog about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Update: Dinner was awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-358016176583954495?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/358016176583954495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=358016176583954495' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/358016176583954495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/358016176583954495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/things-my-husband-should-make-for-you.html' title='Things My Husband Should Make For You, But Probably Never Will'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-2404811638779612758</id><published>2008-01-07T19:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T21:21:44.432-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>The Perfect Evening</title><content type='html'>I got home today and Derek was napping. I had to wait a good two hours before he woke up. He was in my arms from the moment he got up until I put him down for the night. We danced to worship music in his room. To a song where the chorus states, "Nothing compares to what You've done for me..." It was the perfect lyric to a perfect moment.&lt;br /&gt;My life has changed so much. I've lived two completely different lives. When I moved back to Colorado, I was heartbroken and devastated because the direction my life had taken. I did all I knew to do to deal with what I was feeling, which was to not feel it. I drank alot, I smoked a lot of pot. Could've done more drugs, should've done less. But, I hit my bottom. That was as low as I was willing to go. And I turned my face back to the Lord saying, "Nothing I've done has gained me a thing. I guess I'm willing to try it Your way now. I haven't much left to lose and I don't want to lose what's left."&lt;br /&gt;Here it is, 7 years later, and I know what it is to be a new creation in Christ. I look around at my life and I'm amazed. I have more than I ever wanted and so much more than I thought I deserved. And as I was dancing with my son, I felt my worship to the Lord inside &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R4L2xa57iLI/AAAAAAAAAFM/lonvZhqggPk/s1600-h/IMG_2564.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R4L2xa57iLI/AAAAAAAAAFM/lonvZhqggPk/s320/IMG_2564.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152952252561590450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the love that I felt for Derek. This is part of my treasure. If I hadn't done all these things to lead me back to this path, I wouldn't have been singing on stage the day Paul walked into the church. I wouldn't have married this incredible man to eventually lead us to create together an amazing child.&lt;br /&gt;And what's even more incredible, I'm closer to getting a glimpse of the love that God has for me as His child in the love that I feel for my child.&lt;br /&gt;All of these incredible miracles all around us that God uses to share with us His amazing love. Some people see it in nature. Some people hear it in music. Today, I see it in my son.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-2404811638779612758?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2404811638779612758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=2404811638779612758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2404811638779612758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2404811638779612758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/perfect-evening.html' title='The Perfect Evening'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R4L2xa57iLI/AAAAAAAAAFM/lonvZhqggPk/s72-c/IMG_2564.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-8081256381462899154</id><published>2008-01-06T19:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T19:45:34.376-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Things I Will Not Buy For My Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R4GgV657iKI/AAAAAAAAAFE/wgzb6Vt5ph4/s1600-h/random.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152575747138488482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R4GgV657iKI/AAAAAAAAAFE/wgzb6Vt5ph4/s400/random.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw this on another blogger's page and I thought it was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R4Gfgq57iJI/AAAAAAAAAE8/vgs97QGDDH8/s1600-h/random.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-8081256381462899154?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8081256381462899154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=8081256381462899154' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8081256381462899154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/8081256381462899154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/things-i-will-not-buy-for-my-child.html' title='Things I Will Not Buy For My Child'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R4GgV657iKI/AAAAAAAAAFE/wgzb6Vt5ph4/s72-c/random.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-1730194756001637361</id><published>2008-01-04T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T09:08:25.393-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>History in the Making</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Disclaimer: The following post is in no way a stance on the writer's political view. This is not an endorsement of any particular candidate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She neither confirms or denies her affiliation with either party. This post is meant to be solely a commentary on recent events in the news. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The writer is purposely ambiguous regarding her political views as she is a people-pleaser and would not like to make anyone dislike her on either side of the spectrum. In fact, if you want to criticize her for anything, criticize her for the fact that she refuses to take on any political discussion other than the occasional lecture at her husband who has to love her because he promised to. She'll also talk to people that appear to have the same politics as her, but still very tentatively. She doesn't want to be unpopular. She wants to be your friend. Please be her friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;We could very well see our first African American president. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-1730194756001637361?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1730194756001637361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=1730194756001637361' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1730194756001637361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1730194756001637361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/history-in-making.html' title='History in the Making'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-7699065802674080891</id><published>2008-01-01T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T17:37:26.735-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year (sniff, cough, wheeze...)</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning with a sore throat and I've been laying in our spare bed watching tv all day. What a way to start the new year. Good thing TNT has been having an all day Law &amp;amp; Order marathon. So, even when I drift off to sleep, I have Law &amp;amp; Order-induced dreams. Ahhh, sweet dreams of murders and courtrooms. You know, I've decided that people who invest so much time into watching this show should really be given an honorary law degree. Incidentally, I feel the same way about ER and being a doctor. In the very least, I could be a online tv personality giving my opinion on important court cases. I could also be an expert witness or some sort of forensic detective. I'm really willing to take my vast knowledge of tv law and medicine in any direction. I'm flexible. I'll be awaiting job offers. While I wait, I'll continue my law education this evening laying on this bed (sniff, sniff, cough, sneeze, wheeze....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other decisions I've made today, Detective Lenny Briscoe (played by the late great Jerry Orbach - also known as the dad who put Baby in the corner) is one of the greatest tv characters of all time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, there's another job - I could also use my vast knowledge of tv pop culture (otherwise known as useless knowledge) to do.... just about anything really. Game show host, trivia card writer, tv host on Entertainment Tonight. Again, awaiting offers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, here's a pic of all you Derek-fans. Happy 3-month birthday, mi querido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3rqrq57iII/AAAAAAAAAD4/ysUc12Ztyws/s1600-h/IMG_2414.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3rqrq57iII/AAAAAAAAAD4/ysUc12Ztyws/s320/IMG_2414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150687159824124034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-7699065802674080891?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7699065802674080891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=7699065802674080891' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7699065802674080891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7699065802674080891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-year-sniff-cough-wheeze.html' title='Happy New Year (sniff, cough, wheeze...)'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3rqrq57iII/AAAAAAAAAD4/ysUc12Ztyws/s72-c/IMG_2414.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-5332789469630663215</id><published>2007-12-30T17:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T18:31:28.354-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Invasion of the Dinosaurs!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3hKwq57iHI/AAAAAAAAADw/tcUWKQ4rPzY/s1600-h/IMG_2513.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3hKwq57iHI/AAAAAAAAADw/tcUWKQ4rPzY/s320/IMG_2513.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149948373909604466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-5332789469630663215?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5332789469630663215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=5332789469630663215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5332789469630663215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5332789469630663215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/invasion-of-dinosaurs.html' title='Invasion of the Dinosaurs!!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3hKwq57iHI/AAAAAAAAADw/tcUWKQ4rPzY/s72-c/IMG_2513.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-2458850673887707588</id><published>2007-12-29T20:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T18:31:17.419-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>More of Derek's First Christmas</title><content type='html'>Have you been waiting with baited breath? I thought so. Here's some more of Derek's 1st Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;More of Derek in that "Winnie the Pooh" hat and booties set. Couldn't you just eat him??? (I mean that figuratively. I would never condone baby cannibalism. I have always spoken against that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3cap8GLKVI/AAAAAAAAADQ/IxpMMMMqHgM/s1600-h/IMG_2465.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3cap8GLKVI/AAAAAAAAADQ/IxpMMMMqHgM/s320/IMG_2465.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149614006730434898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Silas is very good with babies. He'll sit there and talk to Derek. It's really very cute.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3caqcGLKWI/AAAAAAAAADY/QL9_xK4AIKw/s1600-h/IMG_2488.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3caqcGLKWI/AAAAAAAAADY/QL9_xK4AIKw/s320/IMG_2488.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149614015320369506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kisses from Uncle Owy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3caqcGLKXI/AAAAAAAAADg/t-SHt1M377Y/s1600-h/IMG_2493.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3caqcGLKXI/AAAAAAAAADg/t-SHt1M377Y/s320/IMG_2493.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149614015320369522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Okay, this picture doesn't have  any Derek in it, but the nephews wanted Guitar Hero so bad, that they were just so happy about it.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3caqsGLKYI/AAAAAAAAADo/IFd8oiX_PUE/s1600-h/IMG_2507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3caqsGLKYI/AAAAAAAAADo/IFd8oiX_PUE/s320/IMG_2507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149614019615336834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-2458850673887707588?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2458850673887707588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=2458850673887707588' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2458850673887707588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/2458850673887707588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/more-of-dereks-first-christmas.html' title='More of Derek&apos;s First Christmas'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3cap8GLKVI/AAAAAAAAADQ/IxpMMMMqHgM/s72-c/IMG_2465.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-3607345808382131846</id><published>2007-12-27T20:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T20:41:53.555-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Derek's First Christmas</title><content type='html'>My baby boy's first Christmas went a little like this....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny-O gave him this great "Winnie the Pooh" hat and booties set. Holy crap, this kid is cute!!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3R5ucGLKUI/AAAAAAAAADI/UJLGoE8nKp4/s1600-h/IMG_2466.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3R5ucGLKUI/AAAAAAAAADI/UJLGoE8nKp4/s320/IMG_2466.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148874112714352962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once he learns how to use these toys - he's going to think they're pretty awesome. He'll learn how to use them any day now.... he's incredibly brilliant. I know most moms think that of their kids,  but in this case, it's absolutely true.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3R478GLKRI/AAAAAAAAACw/ueGOtaXKopQ/s1600-h/IMG_2475.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3R478GLKRI/AAAAAAAAACw/ueGOtaXKopQ/s320/IMG_2475.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148873245130959122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Hanging with the cousins. He's smiling at his Titi Lindsey. He's a big fan of hers. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3R478GLKSI/AAAAAAAAAC4/UbW2JpIIdVE/s1600-h/IMG_2491.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3R478GLKSI/AAAAAAAAAC4/UbW2JpIIdVE/s320/IMG_2491.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148873245130959138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Abuelita loves her Derek calendar. They'll be hitting the store shelves soon, I'm sure. They're going to be in high demand. I mean, who wouldn't want this kid to keep track of their days.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3R48MGLKTI/AAAAAAAAADA/ymr_0NMes44/s1600-h/IMG_2502.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3R48MGLKTI/AAAAAAAAADA/ymr_0NMes44/s320/IMG_2502.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148873249425926450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come... stay tuned.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-3607345808382131846?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3607345808382131846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=3607345808382131846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3607345808382131846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3607345808382131846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/dereks-first-christmas.html' title='Derek&apos;s First Christmas'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R3R5ucGLKUI/AAAAAAAAADI/UJLGoE8nKp4/s72-c/IMG_2466.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-5153414033106044015</id><published>2007-12-26T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T19:56:03.774-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Christmas Carols</title><content type='html'>My favorite Christmas carol is "O, Holy Night". The words are just so incredibly powerful and so worshipful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"O, holy night&lt;br /&gt;The stars are bright shining&lt;br /&gt;It is the night of our dear Savior's birth&lt;br /&gt;Long lay the world&lt;br /&gt;In sin and error pining&lt;br /&gt;Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just chew on that. Christ was born and your soul felt its worth. Pining for so long for freedom from sin. I was meditating on this thought yesterday, as we listened to the Christmas carols on the radio. Paul asked the question, "Do you think the artists that sing these songs really think about what they're singing?" And I asked, "Do you think most Christians that sing these songs and really think about what they're singing?" I forced myself to really pay attention to the lyrics. They're are so full of glory and joyful declaration of the birth of an eternal savior! And we take so many of these songs for granted. I imagined them being written by a composer completely inspired by their love for a God who would move heaven and earth (and send his Son) to save mankind. The scope of that is so HUGE and almost incomprehensible. It overwhelms my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Fall on your knees!&lt;br /&gt;O, hear the angels' voices!&lt;br /&gt;O, night divine&lt;br /&gt;O, night, when Christ was born&lt;br /&gt;O, night divine&lt;br /&gt;O, night&lt;br /&gt;O, night divine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I imagined a composer sitting at a piano and writing a love song for Jesus to celebrate and commemorate the day He was born. It's easy to look past these songs without ever thinking on them. You know the words by heart and can sing them while mentally putting together your grocery list. It can become so mechanical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want it to be mechanical. Not my worship for my Creator. When I sing glorious songs full of joy of His existence, I want it to be from the heart - and not some part of my brain that committed to memory the right words and actions to perform. Worship isn't a performance - it's a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-5153414033106044015?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5153414033106044015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=5153414033106044015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5153414033106044015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5153414033106044015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-carols.html' title='Christmas Carols'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-5360140696071721001</id><published>2007-12-23T20:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T20:40:59.124-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='general'/><title type='text'>My Week in Review</title><content type='html'>I just felt like reviewing my week cause it was a mixture of pleasure and pain - and it felt worth blogging about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Derek spent time with his BFF Carter. They're awesome. His mom, Ashley, is one of my heroes. She's a single mom and has this motherhood thing in the bag! I have a hard time and I've got Paul, but she's doing this mom thing with such grace, I'm in absolute awe. She gives me advice and tips. She's pretty much the bomb.&lt;br /&gt;2. Thursday wing nights. Mark singing "Music is My Girlfriend" while showing how nicely he can switch around his reversible jacket. I thought my life was a soundtrack, but I rarely sing it aloud. I'm inspired.&lt;br /&gt;3. Christmas shopping. Tis the season to.... KILL KILL KILL! There's nothing like the season of giving to really bring out that brutal kill or be killed instinct. I mean, when someone stands between you and that must have last "Elmo" on the shelf for your child - well, if there's blood drawn, so be it. I love Christmas, I hate Christmas shopping. All rules are null and void if it means you get where you want a few seconds faster and get what you want leaving no live bodies in your wake. Usually, after a horrific day of Christmas shopping, it sends me into a fetal position, sucking my thumb, rocking back and forth in a corner and crying for my mommy. I'll be repaying my therapist a visit here shortly. She'll no doubtedly up my dosage.&lt;br /&gt;4. Party at Judi-Free's! A smorgasbord of foods I should not be eating post-baby, but LOVE LOVE LOVE! Yellow cake and gobs of chocolate icing... well, I'm a sucker for cake. Ask Paul, it's my weakness. Cake is my kryptonite. Damn you, cake! You foiled me again.&lt;br /&gt;5. Party at Judi-Free's (part-deux) - it's been so long since I had a girl's night out. Oh man! What fun!! Listening to the 80's mix over Music Choice and eating cake, what more could this gal ask for?!?! Thanks Judi. You rock! You are quickly becoming one of my very favorite people on the planet.&lt;br /&gt;6. Today I watched part of VH1's "100 best songs of the 90's". I've been watching it in doses over the week. So many good songs (and bad ones - I'm looking at you 'Color Me Badd'). "Enter Sandman" by Metallica... so good. I've come to terms with my love for late 80's and early 90's metal. (Side note: On the verge of breaking up, Metallica hired a psycho-analyst to get them through their inability to work and write together. Therapy is so metal.) During tonight's viewing I saw a commercial with Slash playing Guitar Hero. Again, very metal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that about covers it. All in all, a great week (minus the nervous tick I got from Christmas shopping) and I thought I'd share it with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-5360140696071721001?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5360140696071721001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=5360140696071721001' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5360140696071721001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5360140696071721001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-week-in-review.html' title='My Week in Review'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-7027465018398195013</id><published>2007-12-21T16:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T17:51:29.948-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laziness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Laziness</title><content type='html'>Paul and I are lazy Christmas people. We do the absolute bare minimum to celebrate the holiday in a festive manner. We don't bake cookies, we don't shop until the weekend before, we don't send Christmas cards, and we rarely think to buy gifts for anyone other than immediate family. Today I saw an old friend from high school who now lives on the east coast and is visiting for the holidays. She walks up to the house and has two gifts in her hand and I think to myself, "Oh right, that's what people do for Christmas. Give gifts. Make a mental note of that." (Side note: I make that mental note every year.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were celebrating our first Christmas in our new home about three years ago. It was about four days before Christmas and we still hadn't gotten a tree. Paul went to the local K-Mart to negotiate for one of those beautifully decorated display trees (to show you how a decorated tree is really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;supposed &lt;/span&gt;to look). It was a pre-lit tree, with the lights wrapped around the branches and all the ornaments. I mean, what are they going to need those trees for. Now, it's just extra stock. He buys the tree for $60 (total value of said tree with decorations would've been about $150, what a bargain!). He throws the tree in the back of his truck and plops it right in front of the window. Here's the kicker: all of the price tags were still on ALL of the ornaments. And of course, we left them on there. I convinced myself that it was because it was funny and kitschy, but it was really because it would've taken way too much effort to take off every price tag. I mean, obviously, I wasn't putting that much energy into Christmas decorations that year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, it's three years later and the lights are starting to go out. When we put up the tree, I really put a lot of effort into finding the dead bulbs and making sure the entire tree was lit. There was just one section that I couldn't fix. I tried to convince myself that it wasn't that noticeable, but in truth, there is a dark ring around our tree. Any other "Suzy Homemaker" would find some creative way to fix that dark spot. And by creative, I mean going and buying a separate strand of lights and adding them to the tree. I just wasn't cut from the "domestic diva" fabric. I can live with the dark spot. Annoying? Yes. Ignorable? Absolutely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just walked by the tree tonight and noticed that the lights on the top of the tree have gone out now. Here is the conversation Paul and I had:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hey, the lights at the top of the tree are out now.&lt;br /&gt;Paul: Yeah, they've been out for a couple of days. I didn't have the heart to tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, I hadn't noticed. Another testament to our laziness. I would post a picture, but my camera isn't readily seen on any of the surfaces around me and I'm just too lazy to go look for it. That's how I roll.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-7027465018398195013?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7027465018398195013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=7027465018398195013' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7027465018398195013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/7027465018398195013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/laziness.html' title='Laziness'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-6225283892929053185</id><published>2007-12-20T23:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T19:55:49.539-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is dang cute'/><title type='text'>Gigantor and the Pipsqueak</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2tnLcGLKPI/AAAAAAAAACg/dPhwzyFdKPI/s1600-h/Derek_Carter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2tnLcGLKPI/AAAAAAAAACg/dPhwzyFdKPI/s320/Derek_Carter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146320445419235570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carter is 5 weeks older than Derek and is about twice his size. He's already offered protection to anyone giving Derek trouble. What can I say... thats how BFF's roll.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-6225283892929053185?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6225283892929053185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=6225283892929053185' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/6225283892929053185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/6225283892929053185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/gigantor-and-pipsqueak.html' title='Gigantor and the Pipsqueak'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2tnLcGLKPI/AAAAAAAAACg/dPhwzyFdKPI/s72-c/Derek_Carter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-907549235003480397</id><published>2007-12-19T20:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T19:57:52.384-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>Time to Make the Donuts</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is the last day of my 12 week maternity leave. It seems like just a few weeks ago  I was going to the hospital, knowing that I wouldn't be going home without a baby in my arms. So much has happened since that time. At the beginning, I wanted to hurry and get back to my old self and get back to work right away. I was startled to see how much I missed my old life and my ability to get up and go. It's such a weird dichotomy. I wouldn't change having Derek for a minute and yet, I was missing the life I had without him. I can't explain it and to say it out loud, it feels so callous. But, it's the truth. I suppose it's not surprising to feel some sense of mourning for an old way of life. I've felt that every time I've gone through major changes in my life, but that's another post.&lt;br /&gt;I think it was easy to feel that way because being a mom was so new and you're constantly questioning yourself, especially when your decisions affect another human being. That's a lot of pressure. Combine that with lack of sleep and substantive nutrition (and regular showers), and you find yourself missing the days when you could shower daily, eat when you needed and wanted, sleep a full 8 hours and most of all - feel confident in your every ability. Needless to say, having a child changes your view of yourself and your world view. That's alot to take in all of the sudden. And quite the adjustment.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I've got more time as a mother under my feet (as well as more sleep) and I'm feeling a little more confident day by day. Time to go back to work. And another dichotomy arises. I look forward to starting my job again. I love my work. Church and music is the perfect combination. But, that means I have to leave my son. Paul gets to work from home and I am extremely jealous. He gets to see that cute little face anytime he wants. Hold him, kiss him, play with him. I want to work AND spend all day with Derek. We'll see how God works this out. I really pray that I'm doing what God wills of me and what's best for me, my family and my calling. We shall see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try leaving this little face every morning and tell me how you'd feel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2n08MGLKMI/AAAAAAAAACI/ICQqlIHEOrA/s1600-h/IMG_2398.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2n08MGLKMI/AAAAAAAAACI/ICQqlIHEOrA/s320/IMG_2398.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145913364123953346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2n08cGLKNI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Pfe8Owq-H28/s1600-h/IMG_2433.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2n08cGLKNI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Pfe8Owq-H28/s320/IMG_2433.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145913368418920658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-907549235003480397?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/907549235003480397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=907549235003480397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/907549235003480397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/907549235003480397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/time-to-make-donuts.html' title='Time to Make the Donuts'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2n08MGLKMI/AAAAAAAAACI/ICQqlIHEOrA/s72-c/IMG_2398.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-1176556317525249469</id><published>2007-12-17T09:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T17:20:05.518-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>Hallelujah! He sleeps in the crib!</title><content type='html'>My mom bought Derek this great bassinet before he was born. She buys them for all her grandkids. It's her signature gift. Well, he's slept in it all of 3 hours in his life. The longest he'll sleep in it is for about 15 minutes. He'll only sleep in his swing. Doctors have tons of reasons why babies don't like sleeping on their back: acid reflux, too different from the womb, yada yada yada. But, he's just getting too big to sleep in his swing. We decided to forego the bassinet and save it for kid #2. Paul went to buy the crib. We put it together yesterday and I was determined to have him transitioned to it by the end of the day. I laid him down for a nap and he slept in it for about 40 minutes. Progress!! Last night, we laid him down for the evening and he wailed for about an hour. Difficult, yes, but my determination was not swayed by the sad cries of my son. After that hour, I fed him and laid him back down. He slept through the night! Waking up once to feed!! I can't tell you how excited this makes me. My chest is puffed up with pride. There's just such an immense feeling of satisfaction that I've accomplished something as his mother, even if it's as simple as getting him to sleep in his crib. Way to go, my beautiful little crib sleeper!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2a6XMGLKLI/AAAAAAAAAB8/1IZzTMLAqo0/s1600-h/IMG_2367.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2a6XMGLKLI/AAAAAAAAAB8/1IZzTMLAqo0/s320/IMG_2367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145004531864250546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-1176556317525249469?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1176556317525249469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=1176556317525249469' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1176556317525249469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1176556317525249469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/hallelujah-he-sleep-in-crib.html' title='Hallelujah! He sleeps in the crib!'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2a6XMGLKLI/AAAAAAAAAB8/1IZzTMLAqo0/s72-c/IMG_2367.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-3342633959461875347</id><published>2007-12-15T19:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T17:03:56.474-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><title type='text'>I'm no Daniel, that's for sure</title><content type='html'>I've been reading the book of Daniel. I remember reading the popular stories as a kid, Daniel in the lion's den, the fiery furnace. Those stories were so important to introducing a little kid to a powerful God that can save you from the mouths of ferocious lions and really piping hot fire. But, as I read the book as an adult, an introspective and soul-searching adult, I'm seeing the real meat of the stories - people so passionate about their God that they are willing to die for what they believe, to give up their very lives for a God that gave them that life. What am I willing to give? A faith like Daniel, Meshach, Shadrach and Abednego's compared to my own makes mine look quite apathetic.  I know that I will never face the threat of a lion's mouth or to be burnt alive, but what am I willing to forsake? Reading my bible nightly makes me uncomfortable. Praying daily makes me uneasy and seems, at times, cumbersome and burdensome. So there you have it, a few minutes of discomfort and I feel that I've suffered my fair share of persecution!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a person I believe died for my very eternity, a God I believe breathed into me my very first breath - I owe more. He deserves much more and better. Oprah once said, struggling with trying to lose weight, that discipline comes by doing. You aren't magically motivated. You motivate by getting off your rear and doing something. That's the only way I will give God more. By simply giving Him more. There will never come a day when I will all of the sudden feel incredibly inspired to read my entire bible as fast as I can and pray for hours on end. Faith is endurance. Faith is a marathon. But I can't run the race if I don't at least start by putting on my running shoes. So, here's the passion plan: Today - a chapter of the bible and some prayer, Tomorrow - a fiery furnace... or maybe just more bible and prayer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-3342633959461875347?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3342633959461875347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=3342633959461875347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3342633959461875347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/3342633959461875347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-no-daniel-thats-for-sure.html' title='I&apos;m no Daniel, that&apos;s for sure'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-4054660799037148072</id><published>2007-12-15T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T17:04:12.468-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>My Cool Bro, part deux</title><content type='html'>Tony started a weekly blog called "Do the Shuffle" where he gives his review of music on whatever songs pop up. I've placed it on my blogroll and so should you! Here's the link:&lt;br /&gt;http://profile.imeem.com/Zr8c1aD/blogs/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-4054660799037148072?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4054660799037148072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=4054660799037148072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4054660799037148072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4054660799037148072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-cool-bro-part-deux.html' title='My Cool Bro, part deux'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-4525440107410268415</id><published>2007-12-14T21:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T17:04:22.614-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>We Salute You</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lsC3ni7A88M&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lsC3ni7A88M&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-4525440107410268415?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4525440107410268415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=4525440107410268415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4525440107410268415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/4525440107410268415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/we-salute-you.html' title='We Salute You'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-1888192458657937263</id><published>2007-12-14T10:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T11:00:07.692-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>My Cool Bro</title><content type='html'>Ever since I was a little my older brother, Tony, was somewhat of a hero to me. My younger bro and I idolized him. 9 years older than me, everything he did (and still does) was something to be emulated. Some of my favorite things that were Tony-inspired include bleu cheese salad dressing, the art of making a mix tape, and most of all, my love for good music. If Tony is listening to it, it means it must be worth listening to. Now, he's a minor celebrity in Minneapolis as a DJ for a Sat afternoon radio show, which is only fitting. Now he introduces his listeners, both on the FM dial and web-streaming, to incredible mixes of all kinds of music that you should be listening to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a cancer survivor and recoverer of open-heart surgery, Tony is still one of my heroes. Here's to you DJ Fly. Keep rockin'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can catch Tony's show online Saturdays from 2-4pm(MST) at: http://minnesota.publicradio.org/radio/services/the_current/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can also hear him on the MPR podcast "Musicheads".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Paul/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-1888192458657937263?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1888192458657937263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=1888192458657937263' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1888192458657937263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/1888192458657937263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-cool-bro.html' title='My Cool Bro'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7312767416465754361.post-5365432938225982151</id><published>2007-12-13T21:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T21:27:45.056-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>Working Mom</title><content type='html'>I am beginning a new phase in my life. Working mother. Sheesh, mother is new enough and now I'm adding "working" to the title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a child has completely altered my view of myself. Where do I find my value? How do I see myself? After giving birth, I experienced feelings I didn't expect. I missed my job. Before delivering, I thought it would be nice to have a break. Being the workaholic that I am, I knew that it would be nice to focus on my family. But after delivering, I felt so useless. Yes, I was the life-sustainer for my son, but I still felt so useless. Which led me to think - where do I find my value? Do I truly find it in who Christ is within me or do I find it what I do for Christ? I think I found my answer which has been upsetting to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a follower of Christ, I have endeavored to know who I am in Him and who He is in me. My rock, my deliverer, my shelter... all of that has meant something more than regurgitated Christianese. Now I fear that I'm back at square one, struggling to gain a confidence I thought I had. Was it shallow ground? Or do I just have to re-define it now that my life role has changed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that I just got very caught up in the doing instead of the being. I want what I do to have value but I don't want it to be my value.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7312767416465754361-5365432938225982151?l=petroskiclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5365432938225982151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7312767416465754361&amp;postID=5365432938225982151' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5365432938225982151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7312767416465754361/posts/default/5365432938225982151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petroskiclan.blogspot.com/2007/12/working-mom.html' title='Working Mom'/><author><name>Teresa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740468041953034582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_nzGkMos5Ghs/R2IZksGLKEI/AAAAAAAAABE/-Jd8xj3xl0E/S220/IMG_2352.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
