<?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-1839625998166393564</id><updated>2011-12-15T20:04:46.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Proud YP</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-7493870061345163313</id><published>2010-11-22T22:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T19:54:37.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Years Later</title><content type='html'>Maybe over Christmas break I will update the rest of the blog with more recent information, as my last post was over two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, I have graduated high school and moved and I am now attending the University of Victoria. I am in my second year of the biochemistry program, going to be writing the MCAT in May, and applying to med school in August. School is going very well though, I will be writing many posts on it in the upcoming future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/TOtlhMLMZ2I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/sbFuwMYy3fQ/s1600/aug2010%2B209.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/TOtlhMLMZ2I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/sbFuwMYy3fQ/s400/aug2010%2B209.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542635387287791458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Telesa is now three years old. She is happy and healthy and SO big. She is a very clever little girl with a good memory. I also can't believe how beautiful she is. We have a very happy life. I am also happy to update that am together with a very amazing man by the name of Louis. The three of us live together at UVic family housing, and I consider myself to be one of the luckiest girls on the planet as I have my beautiful daughter and my caring boyfriend to come home to everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/TOtl_Pr7lNI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/NlegRhcqgfI/s1600/aug2010%2B164.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/TOtl_Pr7lNI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/NlegRhcqgfI/s400/aug2010%2B164.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542635903626482898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy to have blogged again, I did miss it :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EP&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-7493870061345163313?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/7493870061345163313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=7493870061345163313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7493870061345163313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7493870061345163313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2010/11/two-years-later.html' title='Two Years Later'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/TOtlhMLMZ2I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/sbFuwMYy3fQ/s72-c/aug2010%2B209.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-328917875267118292</id><published>2008-11-07T21:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T22:13:23.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Titles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUs0MbS3lI/AAAAAAAAAHc/AGpJ9A7aIaU/s1600-h/DSC_0331.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266164614480191058" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUs0MbS3lI/AAAAAAAAAHc/AGpJ9A7aIaU/s400/DSC_0331.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsvWNZjYI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Tc6xNB2b23U/s1600-h/DSC_0276.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266164531206917506" style="WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsvWNZjYI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Tc6xNB2b23U/s400/DSC_0276.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUslpenINI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Flh8IRzDhEU/s1600-h/DSC_0202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266164364580692178" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUslpenINI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Flh8IRzDhEU/s400/DSC_0202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsexHgF3I/AAAAAAAAAHE/850m2S1bQt4/s1600-h/DSC_0019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266164246372161394" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsexHgF3I/AAAAAAAAAHE/850m2S1bQt4/s400/DSC_0019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsYiOIoZI/AAAAAAAAAG8/R3ijVzVJ4KU/s1600-h/DSC_0104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266164139294237074" style="WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsYiOIoZI/AAAAAAAAAG8/R3ijVzVJ4KU/s400/DSC_0104.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsNAGOU9I/AAAAAAAAAG0/mRkNcrUVcbo/s1600-h/DSC_0076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266163941155689426" style="WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsNAGOU9I/AAAAAAAAAG0/mRkNcrUVcbo/s400/DSC_0076.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsG4BlI-I/AAAAAAAAAGs/g8uv7X86HsM/s1600-h/DSC_0066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266163835909514210" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUsG4BlI-I/AAAAAAAAAGs/g8uv7X86HsM/s400/DSC_0066.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUr3IXjHqI/AAAAAAAAAGk/XO25gsI5pJ8/s1600-h/DSC_0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266163565418716834" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUr3IXjHqI/AAAAAAAAAGk/XO25gsI5pJ8/s400/DSC_0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrnzSO2zI/AAAAAAAAAGc/cvXJCoPXlVw/s1600-h/visiting+chris+oct+08+216.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266163302061234994" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrnzSO2zI/AAAAAAAAAGc/cvXJCoPXlVw/s400/visiting+chris+oct+08+216.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUriBuQX6I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Rnd_WwzkNv8/s1600-h/visiting+chris+oct+08+214.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266163202857656226" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUriBuQX6I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Rnd_WwzkNv8/s400/visiting+chris+oct+08+214.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrYqoQ6PI/AAAAAAAAAGM/yRg5yFgFhl0/s1600-h/visiting+chris+oct+08+123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266163042039687410" style="WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrYqoQ6PI/AAAAAAAAAGM/yRg5yFgFhl0/s400/visiting+chris+oct+08+123.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrPplVcJI/AAAAAAAAAGE/hNzgty9TMjE/s1600-h/visiting+chris+oct+08+107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266162887140143250" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrPplVcJI/AAAAAAAAAGE/hNzgty9TMjE/s400/visiting+chris+oct+08+107.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrI4DKhfI/AAAAAAAAAF8/EiWhWkJjiWM/s1600-h/visiting+chris+oct+08+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266162770764269042" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrI4DKhfI/AAAAAAAAAF8/EiWhWkJjiWM/s400/visiting+chris+oct+08+076.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrBJR22AI/AAAAAAAAAF0/9u8xAYpdknk/s1600-h/visiting+chris+oct+08+064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266162637950343170" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUrBJR22AI/AAAAAAAAAF0/9u8xAYpdknk/s400/visiting+chris+oct+08+064.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUq1mFsdZI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Gpc-EXEDWv4/s1600-h/DSC_0279.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266162439525528978" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUq1mFsdZI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Gpc-EXEDWv4/s400/DSC_0279.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUqlVagrLI/AAAAAAAAAFk/4jRzbNiNs2Y/s1600-h/DSC_0186.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266162160171527346" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUqlVagrLI/AAAAAAAAAFk/4jRzbNiNs2Y/s400/DSC_0186.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUqeYjun8I/AAAAAAAAAFc/z3Nek4Asx8g/s1600-h/DSC_0168.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266162040756412354" style="WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUqeYjun8I/AAAAAAAAAFc/z3Nek4Asx8g/s400/DSC_0168.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUqI6oEmQI/AAAAAAAAAFU/W6giDyLJLEI/s1600-h/DSC_0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266161671944313090" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUqI6oEmQI/AAAAAAAAAFU/W6giDyLJLEI/s400/DSC_0002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;YES! I am still alive, I hope that was enough photographic evidence! I think I have finially decicded a plan of action regarding school, post secondary school to be specific. I will go to college and get an associate of science, see how that goes, and then either complete a bachelors degree (spealizing in what I'm not sure), or if after the two years nursing is still what I really want to do than I can go into nursing. I'm just discovering right now how much I love math and chemistry, and while I love biology, there are no math or chemistry courses in the nursing program I'm going into. So I will try them, explore, and decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you wondering, I did get an 'A' on my essay in english. I was fairly happy with the final result, and at the last minute changed the title to "The Invincable Bullet" because the old title didn't fit well with the actual essay, although it was a great title. I am getting basically 90% in all my classes, my lowest grade being 88.6% :) So I was very excited about that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I write about my new camera? I don't think I did.... well I got the Nikon D80, this beautiful stunning camera that I've been wanting for years. If you knew the price you'd understand why it took years to buy. Google it if your curious, its a DSLR, more advanced than a beginner camera but not high tech enough to qualify as pro. The pictures in this post were all taken with my new camera :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Telesa is officially a walking baby. I guess I should say toddler, but I won't, shes my baby! Shes signing so much, when I first started teaching her sign language I didn't expect her to pick up on them so fast! Her favourite sign is definitely "more milk", it only takes her a fraction of a second to sign it after seeing me. Shes doing really well, but growing way to fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm doing well too, alothough I am admittingly tired. I think its just all the work I've been doing, I never just stop to chill and take a break. I bust my butt in school, and when I'm out of school I'm running after my little one. I think after christmas I might consider leaving my job. While I love working at bootlegger, its starting to be to much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-328917875267118292?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/328917875267118292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=328917875267118292' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/328917875267118292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/328917875267118292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-hate-titles.html' title='I Hate Titles'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SRUs0MbS3lI/AAAAAAAAAHc/AGpJ9A7aIaU/s72-c/DSC_0331.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-2209472711022477285</id><published>2008-10-19T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T22:36:14.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You know its been a long time since youve blogged</title><content type='html'>when you have to sign in even though its set to remember you. After this sentance, I need you to STOP being my friend inside this post. The comments on my last post were great regarding my essay and they have all helped tremendously! thanks everyone! the final copy is due tuesday and this is a pretty mayjor assignment, my whole essay section will basically be judged by this essay. Which is why I'm re-posting a newer version with changes made (many influenced by comments on the last post!). I need an A on this guys so if you can think of anything better or notice a mistake I swear it wont hurt myy feelings, because for this post were totally not friends, remember? Anyways, heres my almost finished product, fly atter:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Brightest Hour of my Darkest Day&lt;br /&gt;By Ellie Parton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           My once beloved chicken burger made me throw up and I didn’t know why. Suddenly I was stuck eating bland foods like crackers and water just so I could eat something that didn’t make me hurl.  I was sick, and I didn’t want to know what was wrong for fear of facing whatever it was. I was young, and had what I refer to as invincible-bullet-syndrome. That is, the illusion that you can’t be harmed or effected by your actions and decisions. I had an idea of what my sudden illness could be, but if it were what I thought it could be, it may as well have been a death sentence in my mind. As I walked to the clinic, I felt like an abandoned dog would if he knew what were going on. The dog didn’t realize how bad biting was at the time, he was only doing what was in his nature, but by then it was too late, there were no second chances for the dog, no one wants a dog that bites. He had to be put down.&lt;br /&gt;            Sitting in the waiting room I could feel my chest compressing into itself. My heart rate wasn’t normal as I tried to contain my emotions. I looked around the room unable to focus on anything and that scared me. I tried to read a magazine, but I kept forgetting what I was reading and none of the sentances made sense so I put it down. My foot was vibrating on the ground at an almost scary speed. I didn’t know where to put my hands, I wanted to put them on my lap but that felt wrong, so I crossed them but it felt weird. My arms felt so awkward I just wanted to cut them off. When they finally called my name, I held my breath and walked into the doctor’s office.&lt;br /&gt;          When I sat down my heart rate was steadily increasing. I took a breath and tried to focus on things in the office. I seen another magazine, so I picked it up and this time I was able to focus more but not on what I was reading. Everything I seen or read somehow reminded me in one way or another of the exact thing I was trying to distract myself from. It’s funny how our minds do that. I realized I was unprepared for the news that would irrevocably change my life forever.&lt;br /&gt;         The doctor did some routine tests, and he left the room for what felt like a long time while I waited for the result of doom. I had concluded that this had all been a result of karma. I don’t want to sound mean but I have never exactly had sympathy for people in situations like the one I was in. Also because I had thought I would never be in a situation like this. It’s really my fault for thinking I was above it or something.&lt;br /&gt;            When the results were official it felt like a small balloon had been popped in my chest. My throat closed up as I tried to talk. I wanted to seem as calm as possible. All of my concentration was focusing on not crying.  I just wanted to get out of the doctor’s office, I didn't want to exist anymore. It all felt surreal to me. My mind was having a hard time grasping what had just happened. At first I couldn’t believe it, it was like a dream. I was thinking about so many things that I didn’t know what to really focus my mind on and that made me dizzy. Walking home it felt like every car that passed by somehow knew and I could feel their judgment pass as they stuck their nose up at yet another pregnant teenager.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-2209472711022477285?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/2209472711022477285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=2209472711022477285' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/2209472711022477285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/2209472711022477285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-know-its-been-long-time-since-youve.html' title='You know its been a long time since youve blogged'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-3456732703208403315</id><published>2008-09-26T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T14:20:28.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Posts in one!</title><content type='html'>First Post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Telesa walked yesterday! She took THREE steps to me! I wish I got it on camera, but when I do I'll post it! It was so exciting, I couldn't believe it. She was just wlaking along the furniture as normal and then just let go and kept going! I'm so proud of her! She also said "cracker" earlier this week, which doesn't surprise me because crackers are one of her favourite foods! This is a short but sweet post as you can tell, I just wanted to share the good news with everyone of Telesas big milestones :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second Post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need your help (yes, you! the person reading this). We are doing an essay in English and I am writing about the day I found out I was pregnant. My first problem is I can't think of a good title for the life of me, any suggestions? Second, well, something about it just seems missing and it simply doesn't feel complete. If you have any suggestions please share! Have a good metaphor or simile or a better descriptive word than what I'm using? THROW IT AT ME :D I want to know how you guys think I can make it better! (When your reading just keep in mind its still a draft and certainly not the final copy)! I'll post the final copy when its finished :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Title (yet)&lt;br /&gt;By Ellie Parton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Symptoms: Nausea (all the time), certain foods made me sick, Aunt Flow stopped visiting, and lastly I had sudden cravings for pickles (among other things, such as cherry pie).  Reasons for denial: The biggest was my age (I was sixteen at the time), also I was single and scared, other reasons include (but are not limited to) the fact that I was a “rebellious” teenager who had the invincible-bullet-syndrome (the feeling that you couldn’t be harmed or affected by your actions). Reason for going to get tested: because everyday it was getting harder to ignore what I already knew.&lt;br /&gt;            Sitting in the waiting room I could feel my chest compressing into itself. My heart rate wasn’t high but it wasn’t normal as I tried to contain my emotions. I looked around the room unable to focus on anything and that scared me. I tried to read a magazine, but the words went in one ear and out the other so I put it down. My foot was vibrating on the ground at an almost scary speed. I didn’t know where to put my hands, should I put them on my lap or on my stomach? My arms felt so awkward I just wanted to cut them off. When they finally called my name, I held my breath and walked into the doctor’s office.&lt;br /&gt;          When I sat down my heart rate was steadily increasing. I took a breath and tried to focus on things in the office. I seen another magazine, so I picked it up and this time I was able to focus more but not in a good way. Everything I seen or read somehow reminded me in one way or another of the exact thing I was trying to distract myself from. It’s funny how our minds do that. I was unprepared for the news that would irrevocably change my life forever.&lt;br /&gt;           I didn’t really have to go pee, but the doctor made me, in a tiny cup no less. At the time I didn’t realize it was the first of many, many, (countless) cups I would have to pee in for the next nine months.  I placed the cup in the tiny “specimen” door and waited for them to do the test of doom. I couldn’t believe how dumb and irresponsible I had been. “If I had just done this…” or “If I didn’t do that…”‘s were filling my mind. I tried to look on the bright side; maybe I had a life threatening stomach disease.&lt;br /&gt;            When the results were official it felt like a small but very real balloon had been popped in my chest. My throat closed up as I tried to talk. I wanted to seem as calm as possible. All of my concentration was focusing on not crying.  I just wanted to get out of the doctors office, and crawl in a tiny space and just stay there forever. It all felt surreal to me. My mind was having a hard time grasping what had just happened. At first I couldn’t believe it, it was like a dream. I was thinking about so many things that I didn’t know what to really focus my mind on and that made me dizzy. Walking home it felt like every car that passed by somehow knew and I could feel their judgment pass as they stuck their nose up at yet another pregnant teenager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;**Side Note about the first paragraph: were exploring new writing techniques and one of the ways is in a "list". He challenged us to write a list in our essay if possible, so I thought Id give it a shot. Do you think starting with a list like that adds to my essay or do you think it just sounds stupid?***&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-3456732703208403315?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/3456732703208403315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=3456732703208403315' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3456732703208403315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3456732703208403315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/09/two-posts-in-one.html' title='Two Posts in one!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-3338204179259472367</id><published>2008-09-18T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T22:29:43.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud Young Momma of a One Year Old!</title><content type='html'>Telesas birthday went so well! We went for dinner and she had her favourite: BAKED SPAGHETTI! it was a lot of fun! My jaw just about dropped when I seen an e-mail from babycenter.com though.... I dont know if you guys get the weekly developmental e-mails, but it always was titled "Your BABY this week" and yesterday it said "your TODDLER this weekend" and I though "surely, an error, shes still a baby" but when I checked it, it was no error! They start calling them toddlers at 1!!!!!! which is way to early for me, I refuse to call her a toddler before 18 months. which is when the daycare starts calling babies toddlers. Denial? Maybe. Do I care? No :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to add photos, but I still need to hunt down the camera cord. Until then picture in your mind the most beautiful baby girl with spaghetti all over her face and hands with a big grin on her face wearing a plastic Boston Pizza bib and *voila* your looking at telesas birthday picture!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty nervous for her party this saturday though. I have no idea how many people are coming, so I don't know how much food to buy etc.! I'm worried I might run out of plates or cups or run out of food or cake or there wont be enough chairs or space for every or AH so many things Im worried about! Anywhere from 30-50 people are coming so I know it will be hectic! How did your childs first birthday go? Were your crazy like me and invited lots of people or kept it small? What was the theme? More importantly, how did you survive it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. Thanks for all the birthday wishes for Telesa yesterday! Telesa wanted me to tell you THANKS ;) oh and *kisses*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-3338204179259472367?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/3338204179259472367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=3338204179259472367' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3338204179259472367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3338204179259472367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/09/proud-young-momma-of-one-year-old.html' title='Proud Young Momma of a One Year Old!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-464597644983016951</id><published>2008-09-15T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T16:36:20.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September 17</title><content type='html'>I am sitting here in disbelief. The day after tomorrow it will be exactly one year since I was at the hospital, breathing through contractions. One year since I first held my baby and marveled at her beauty. It will have been one year since my life was forever changed, the day I became a mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting here I am reflecting on this amazing journey. I can feel my heart melting as I think about her first smile. I'm sure those reading are familiar with the song "you are my sunshine", well I sang that to her all the time. So much so, that one night while sleeping, I had Telesa sleeping on my chest. I went to snuggle her and kiss her forehead, when I realized she wasn't in my arms, and I had dreamed it. I don't know why, but I was just so disappointed and sad, I actually started crying. Thats when I really understood what that part of the song meant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had ups and downs but its been so worth it. I look at her and I think "I love you so much, how could I possibly love you more?" and it never ceases to amaze me that I do everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-464597644983016951?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/464597644983016951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=464597644983016951' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/464597644983016951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/464597644983016951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/09/september-17.html' title='September 17'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4534915699926614664</id><published>2008-09-04T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T22:16:10.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its back to school for my butt!</title><content type='html'>I had my first day of school yesterday! It was pretty basic, the teachers just going over class rules. I actually had math homework the first day, and at first I had trouble with it so I went in today before school started, and after the teacher explained it, I got it pretty quickly. First block I have chemistry 11, B block I would have had physics, but I elected to turn it into a study block so I could excell in my other subjects. I figure that way I will have less homework and more time to spend on the classes I NEED for college, where as physics was more of a "want". In C block I have Principles 11. Unfortunately in Principles 10, my weak point was functions, and what did we start with in principles 11? Quadratic Functions! Its okay though, I'm starting to get it way better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally in last block I have English 12. English is not one of my strongest subjects, and while I love to write as you may have noticed I make lots of those little grammer and spelling mistakes. Maybe one of my goals will be to improve the writing quality of my blog, that is, assuming I find the time! I can tell already that I will have lots of homework! Between school, Telesa, and work, well, I won't have much time left! I have a full-time job (Telesa, because I think all you moms out there agree being a mom IS a full-time job!), and part-time job (bootlegger) and a full-time student. Whew! It was hard just typing all that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I other events, its a sad day at our house, as we had to get rid of our dog Brutus. You may have read in a &lt;a href="http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-love-lake.html"&gt;previous post&lt;/a&gt; that he was on his last strike for nipping Telesa. Well, today he actually bit her, don't worry shes okay, no serious marks or anything, but oh my poor baby! It scared her half-to-death, and my step-dad said her cry still rings in his ears. While he loves Brutus he understands that Telesas safety is whats most important, and that Brutus is not a good baby friendly dog and would only get worse. My brother, on the other hand, completely blames me for Brutus's ban. While I feel bad, I stand by my decision to kick him out, because I never want to feel what I did again when I seen him bite my daughter. My heart honestly sank, and it was so hard to hear her cry because of him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-4534915699926614664?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4534915699926614664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4534915699926614664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4534915699926614664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4534915699926614664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-back-to-school-for-my-butt.html' title='Its back to school for my butt!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4212953685774688448</id><published>2008-08-27T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T21:22:53.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I really missed working</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SLYmD0q3C5I/AAAAAAAAAFE/ZCHEwBNEXro/s1600-h/JUNE+2007+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239417063612025746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SLYmD0q3C5I/AAAAAAAAAFE/ZCHEwBNEXro/s400/JUNE+2007+030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm back at bootlegger! I really missed working in my awesome retail store job. I love it, I help people shop all day and get paid! Its good for me, because I love the socialization and I'm big on customer service. I'm a firm believer that customer service can make or break a company, so when I'm working I strive to be the best sales associate possible, not just for the company, but for personal satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people I work with are amazing, sometimes I forget my boss is even my boss, because she feels like a friend. Its good to have a job that your actually excited to go, I find it way less &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;stressful&lt;/span&gt;. I wish I could live the lifestyle I want for me and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; off the sales associates wage, its enough to get by but not enough for everything I want and feel we as a family deserve. Which is why I'm going back to school in September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SLYmV7Bv_fI/AAAAAAAAAFM/tc6UKlzoI2c/s1600-h/JUNE+2007+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239417374556290546" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SLYmV7Bv_fI/AAAAAAAAAFM/tc6UKlzoI2c/s400/JUNE+2007+029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime though, its great working there while money isn't a huge issue because I live with my parents. The frequency and hours I get for most people wouldn't be desirable, but for me its absolutely perfect! I'm essentially their seasonal hire, I work there during the busy times. Right now its back-to-school season, so I'm their extra person they hire who they don't need to train, because I know the ropes! After school starts, I'll work weekends until they don't need me. Then, hopefully, they'll take me back during &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; season. I love the discount too, not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;gunna&lt;/span&gt; lie, its pretty awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Photos: The first picture is of me and Jaz, the assitant manager, and the guy is the hot DJ we hired for the day. It was so fun, he played good music, and he was my eye candy for the day lol :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The second picture is of me and Angela, the store manager, my boss/friend :) Same day as the first one, I was about 6 months pregnant there. The mall hired an amazing face painter for the kids, and calling it "face painting" doesn't do her justice, its more like face ART! Anyways, I didn't want anything on my face because I felt a little old, so all the staff had something done on our bodies. The pictures on our arms were done by her, arn't they beautiful?&lt;/em&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/1839625998166393564-4212953685774688448?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4212953685774688448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4212953685774688448' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4212953685774688448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4212953685774688448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-really-missed-working.html' title='I really missed working'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SLYmD0q3C5I/AAAAAAAAAFE/ZCHEwBNEXro/s72-c/JUNE+2007+030.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-6776561711249165516</id><published>2008-08-17T23:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T00:00:14.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Lake</title><content type='html'>Hope everyone had a good weekend! I know I did! We took Telesa to the lake for the first time this summer and had a BLAST! It was a really fun family outing, we went with my mom and brother, and my aunty and her daughter Hailey whos two. I think shes going to hate me for life though, I dunked her in the water, twice. I warned her though, and said "hold your breathe at the count of three!" and shes like "okay!" hahaha her expression when I lifted her up was priceless. Everytime I tried to bring her in the water she would run away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Telesa was super cute in the water, she was so chill the whole time! I thought she would cry because the water was cold but she didn't seem to phased by it.  She had this little floating thing her gg bought her (Great Godmom, Telesas godmothers mom...) anyways she was in that for awhile and then we put Hailey in it. It was halarious, we were like "Kick, Hailey, kick!" and you could see her little legs under was just given'er! We had a good laugh over that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was pretty relaxed. We went grocery shopping, and had a quick visit with Telesas other cousins. This weekend though I had a really bad headach. It started on friday and I hoped it would go away, but by saterday it was a full on pounding migrane. I didn't realize how badly migranes effect you as a parent. It was really hard to watch Telesa when my eyes were pounding in pain! I took some tylenol, which helped immensely and I was able to get by the weekend without too much headaches. I really hope it goes away soon though, I'm not a fan of taking pills and don't want to take anymore tylenol than I have to. I think it might've been degydration or something, so I'm drinking more water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our dog Brutus bit Telesa this weekend. Well, bite sounds harsh, he growled and nipped at her, but didn't leave an actual mark. If it wern't for my stepdad Mark, Brutus would be long gone! But Brutus is his dog and he "loves" him and such, and takes him for river walks and such and would be heartbroken to lose Brutus. I asked him what he suggests we do, and he said to just "be on high alert and keep a close on them when their together". Great.... I was hoping he would say get rid of him, so it wouldn't be like I was the bad guy who banned Brutus from the house. But I told him though if that dog pulls anything like that again he will be long gone, no "ifs", "ands", or "buts"! I know he loves Brutus but we love Telesa way more and if he can't be a family dog he needs to be outta here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-6776561711249165516?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/6776561711249165516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=6776561711249165516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6776561711249165516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6776561711249165516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-love-lake.html' title='I Love Lake'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-1180766851895242795</id><published>2008-08-15T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T22:13:01.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Irrational Fear</title><content type='html'>I was writing a comment a MOMformation blogpost but it got pretty long so I decided to make it a post here (YAY for killing two birds with one stone!):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so scared of spiders and I always will be. Even after becoming a mom I can't handle the sight of one, and it NEEDS to be killed or put outside, far away outside, before I feel safe again. Even then, I'm on high alert for one of its spider friends. If I'm alone and theres a spider, I most definitely will kill it. I would prefer to put it outside but I just don't have the guts to do it. I would start litterally bawling, crying, because I would be so terrified of it escaping the napkin or whatever and crawling on to to me and getting in my clothes or hair or some other hard-to-get-rid-of-place and it biting me or worse laying eggs in my ear or AHH so many nasty gross creepy ideas immeadiately enter my mind when I see a spider. They are just the ugliest and creepiest things I've ever seen! Once there was a spider over our bathroom door and I refused to go under it and my brother  didn't kill it for half an hour just to see how long I would stay in the bathroom for but then he started to feel bad for me so he killed it for me. I have been brought to tears many times by spiders, mostly when I have to kill them myself. I'm scared that they will quickly run away before I can kill it and then come after me or worse get away  and then get their nasty spider friends after me when I sleep. Okay saying them outloud sounds really irrational and I admit it but and I hate that thats how I feel about them but I am scared of spiders more than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its weird, I'm okay with snakes though and most other bugs as long as their not ON my body. ANY bug on my body except for like a ladybug or something and its instant freakout almost always resulting in tears. Childish? Probably. Reality? Unfortunately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thats my irrational fear. I'm curious, whats yours? Do you hate spiders as much as I do? What do you do when you see them?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-1180766851895242795?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/1180766851895242795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=1180766851895242795' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1180766851895242795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1180766851895242795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-irrational-fear.html' title='My Irrational Fear'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-6880465242680996292</id><published>2008-08-09T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T17:15:41.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Amazing Post You've Been Waiting For</title><content type='html'>So I decided it was quality over quantity when it came to my blog. This is much easier said than done. Everytime I went to write, I would think "well THATS not good enough" and not post it. After many attempts at writing an amazing blog post, I decided I would write a post regardless of the fact I didn't have anything "amazing" worthy. I felt bad I hadn't posted anything in awhile and if I didn't just post SOMETHING, well I didn't know when I would ever find that topic for an amazing post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have I been up to? Well I have a Social Studies government exam on monday and my Math exam on tuesday. Telesas crawling, so I'm always chasing after her.  I added new pics to facebook too, if anyone cares :P OH and my parents traded in MYYYY car for a truck for THEM! Thats right, they took the car back that they PROMISED ME! Rude much? I drive our vibe again, atleats its an automatic. I made them promise to help me get a car by the time I go to college in Fall 2009 or I'm taking the vibe :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave Telesa ice cream today. I felt bad, I was determined not to give her that kind of stuff. But we were in the car, she was fussy, and I knew it would keep her quiet until we got home. Whats the norm for that kind of food? Is 11 months old to young for icecream, am I a bad mom? Or have any of you guys slipped your LO a bite of icecream before they really needed it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-6880465242680996292?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/6880465242680996292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=6880465242680996292' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6880465242680996292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6880465242680996292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/08/amazing-post-youve-been-waiting-for.html' title='The Amazing Post You&apos;ve Been Waiting For'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-3380735764487444366</id><published>2008-07-30T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T21:28:39.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Milo</title><content type='html'>I'm almost done summer school!!! Friday is our last day, where we'll have a big final test! So far, I'm doing extremely well, just shy of an A, but tomorrow were doing a test so it will be an A tomorrow :) I'm slowly getting better at standard, I still won't go up dogwood (big hill with intersection on top=scary sh*t!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Telesa is just way to cute. Now when I pick her up, she'll turn to the daycare people (or whoevers holding her) and *wave* "buh-bye"!  She also has to be standing all the time but can't hherself so I have to hold her the whole time and if I put her down she gets really mad. I think she knows fake mad. She gives a good stink eye and then bursts out laughing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have a really relaxed weekend this weekend. Last weekend, I went to my friends party and its just not my sceene anymore. I had a lot of fun and it was great seeing people I hadn't seen in awhile but at the same time I felt really out of place. Probably because I wasn't drinking, its never fun to watch people get hammered while you havn't had a drink since your ten-month-old was concieved (literally).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My birthday was on monday! Its official, I'm eighteen! Its great because now I'm an "adult" with a baby! Still a teen mom, but atleast I can say I can vote. I could also drink in Alberta, to bad I'm not going there like ever! I had a really good birthday though, on my birthday weekend I had my hair cut and then went out to my friends party (see above). On my actual birthday my mom got me lots of really cool bath stuff, and the family and Sarah all went for dinner and had some really good food. Barb, (Telesas "gg", Sarahs mom), got me some wicked awesome scrapbook supplies! My favourite being these great coffee stamps with funny coffee related sayings like "I like you a latte" or "expressly for you" and I ended the day with a relaxing bath using my awesome new bath products. Oh, and I ate way to much cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, we also got a bird today. A grey cockatile named "Milo".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-3380735764487444366?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/3380735764487444366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=3380735764487444366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3380735764487444366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3380735764487444366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/milo.html' title='Milo'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-8089808208866436096</id><published>2008-07-24T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T22:55:57.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>&lt;_&lt;</title><content type='html'>I hate standard. Hate, hate, hate it. I can drive it though, and I held up my side of the deal, and I now officially own a 2005 white sunfire :) I started driving it to school today, and it wasn't very much fun! I was going up Alder (hill) and apparently your supposed to lower your gears on a hill but I didn't know that so I stayed in 3rd gear and the car started like shaking and going really slow : There were cars behind me to and I could see in my mirror that the guy behind me wasn't impressed. I was freaking out because I had NO IDEA what to do! I just turned into the city building to stop and take a breathing and some how make it up that hill. I called my step dad, he said not to go pasr second gear until I'm up the hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it to school in one piece but I did stall a few times on my way up. I hope I get the hang of it soon, its really scary driving standard for me right now. When I'm coming to a stale green light I have this little freak out in my head "DON'T TURN RED! IF IT TURNS RED I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN STOP FAST ENOUGH" etc. andI also hate turning, I'm kind of slow to start and at getting to 50 so I don't like to turn unless theres no cars for awhile. I'm sure cars behind me don't appriciate this but oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I dropped Telesa off at daycare today I did my usually *waves* "Bye Telesa, I love you! *blows kisses* and then she looked at me, smiled big and waved! She can also go from laying down to sitting up and is doing this weird, but still a crawl, crawl! Summer school is already almost over! I'm continually doing well, right now I'm at a 'B' but I'm working on an 'A'!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-8089808208866436096?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/8089808208866436096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=8089808208866436096' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8089808208866436096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8089808208866436096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-post.html' title='&lt;_&lt;'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-6911820584276023162</id><published>2008-07-20T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T13:02:33.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photoshoot :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos-c.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074818_7062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-c.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074818_7062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074819_7330.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074819_7330.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-f.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074821_7911.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-f.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074821_7911.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-e.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074820_7604.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-e.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074820_7604.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-g.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074822_8183.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-g.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-snc1/v272/94/10/507573331/n507573331_1074822_8183.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love these pictures :) Some of the bigger images appear to be a little pixelated, because I saved these to my computer from facewbook, then uploaded them on facebook, and then these pictures are from links from facebook. So trust me this post doesn't do these pictures justice! If you havn't already, add me on facebook and have a look at them! They look much better there :) But when your adding me leave a note saying your a blogstalker or I might not know who you are! I tend to send messages to people I don't know and I always feel like a bad person for not knowing them! lol, search Ellie Parton or my e-mail &lt;a href="mailto:el_03_3@hotmail.com"&gt;el_03_3@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt; and don't be shy to message me or comment here :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-6911820584276023162?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/6911820584276023162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=6911820584276023162' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6911820584276023162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6911820584276023162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/photoshoot.html' title='Photoshoot :)'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-1497478270242598598</id><published>2008-07-15T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T22:58:50.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Just Want to Know Why</title><content type='html'>Now that I've had some time to breath from my &lt;a href="http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-new-one.html"&gt;negative experience on saturday&lt;/a&gt; I can discuss what I was mostly upset about, in a less angry way. What I really don't understand is why the rude lady, we'll call her Deb for the heck of it, was so negative to begin with. I realize and regret that a mojority of teen moms are sterotyped as being bad, unfit, uncaring, unprepared, selfish, (the list goes on), parents, and I hate it. Call me crazy but this feels nothing short of racism to me, assuming I'm a bad parent because of my age doesn't seem much different to me than assuming a black person is in a gang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great mommy blogger &lt;a href="http://btstars.wordpress.com/"&gt;BT Stars&lt;/a&gt; was told while pregnant by another rude lady that she was disgusted in her "flaunting" her "situation" when really she was just pregnant and in no way flaunting anything. What I want to know is why do women do this to begin with? What are their motives? What do they hope to acomplish with their rude remarks and snide glares? I mean really, what good can come of it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats what makes ME really upset, is that its totally unnessacary. I can understand why they wouldn't agree with it, as some people have very strong moral beliefs, and I respect that, I really do, but I may not have the same beliefs as you or  the next person and one of my beliefs is that "to each his own". Let me live my life the way I want to, and you can live your life the way you want to. We don't need to agree with lifestyles or choices, and that's okay. Whats not okay with me though is making someone feel less of themselves for making choices or leading a life that you consider "bad" because of your beliefs. I realize my situation is not "ideal" in any way and I am also a big believer that waiting to have children is a better option but you can't change fate and I was just ment to have my daughter young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That does not make me a bad person, or a bad mom. That does not make me some trailor trash low life who will live off the government for the rest of my life. Contrary to what "Deb" and other women like her may believe, it has made me a stronger and better and more well-rounded person. I actually care a great deal about school now and attend daily on time and do homework and I give it 110%, something I never could have seen me doing before. I was going down a road I shouldn't have and my daughter set me straight and I am so much happier because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can understand why someone wouldn't agree with the life I live, but why make me feel worse for it? Why on Earth would anyone want to bring me down for taking responsiblity for my actions? In my opinion it is a much better route than abortion and I felt and still feel mature and responsible enough for the task of parenting even though you may not agree. What good can come of such a negative attitude? The answer is none, so please any "Deb's" reading this, stop with the harsh judgements and negativity. You just add more stress and sadness and its not okay to do that to anyone regardless of your beliefs. If you don't agree with it, thats okay, but you can still be kind and nice and still not agree with it. You can tell me I have a cute baby, and you can compliment her wardrobe, and even offer advice like "They grow up so quickly". By doing so, you'll feel like a better person because of it, and I will walk away in a better mood than I did before our encounter, and guess what, you still don't agree, but atleast some good came of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-1497478270242598598?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/1497478270242598598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=1497478270242598598' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1497478270242598598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1497478270242598598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-just-want-to-know-why.html' title='I Just Want to Know Why'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4875784964297276871</id><published>2008-07-12T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T17:18:29.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is a New One</title><content type='html'>I've heard people say a lot of things regarding me being a teen mom, but this one is new. I was at superstore today browsing the baby clothes when this lady and her toddler came by. Her toddler got excited "BABY!" and the mom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;replied&lt;/span&gt; "Yes, a baby..." and then turned to the lady she was with, her mother I believe it was, and said "Babies &lt;em&gt;(speaking in a &lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;em&gt;foreign language) (speaking in a foreign language)&lt;/em&gt; teenagers". Now I may not have understood most of what she said, I don't even know what language she was speaking, but I heard the two most important parts loud and clear. "Babies" and "teenagers", shes clearly talking about me. Did she honestly think she was fooling me by speaking another language, as if I didn't understand what she was saying? By her tone and what I understood, she was being a judgemental b*%(#, to say the least.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;First of all, what the hell gives her the right to judge ME? She doesn't know anything about me or my situation. She can go to hell. Yeah I'm young, but excuse me WHEN DID AGE BECAME A MERIT OF GOOD PARENTING? Oh thats right, it didn't, she just ASSUMES the worst because of my age. Didn't her mother ever tell her when you ASSUME you make an ASS out of U and ME?  Please get off your high horse you old hag, or it'll be a lonely pedestool up there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Like honestly, how can someone judge someone just based on age? I don't think she would like it if I made assumptions about her because she was clearly a foreinger. She has NO RIGHT to make those assumptions, and only God can judge me. If she took the time to actually get to know me, she would see I'm a GREAT mom whos going back to school, and is going to be going to college/university and and doing everything in my power to provide the best life possible for my daughter and that I love her more than all the fishes in all the oceans and all the stars up in the sky. That she is truly a blessing and the best thing that ever happened in my life and that I am so happy to have her. Of course she wouldn't know any of that though her nose was far to stuck up to see anything beyond her harsh judgements of a situation she knows nothing about. She needs to take that stick out of her a$$ and join the real world where life isn't perfect and doesn't always go as planned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-4875784964297276871?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4875784964297276871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4875784964297276871' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4875784964297276871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4875784964297276871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-new-one.html' title='This is a New One'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4588702782847062013</id><published>2008-07-08T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T22:19:15.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the 10 moth not being peed on by your baby record, whats yours?</title><content type='html'>I was peed on tonight! I'm actually surprised I made it this long without being peed on yet, I mean shes almost 10 months old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; got to be some kind of record! Don't be jealous though, I've been pooed and puked on to many times to count. To be honest I would much rather be peed on. It was after her bath, she was still in her towel and we went to grandmas room to say night nights when I felt an unwelcome warm sensation trickling from my stomach to my toes. '&lt;em&gt;Uh Oh &lt;/em&gt;that's gross' I thought, but I didn't really care all that much, I mean shes my baby. I did have to pass her off to Grandma though so she could get her dressed while I showered. I didn't mind being peed on but I wasn't about to sleep in it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had that math test today that I was talking about in my last post. I got 14/20, which is 70%, so I got a B on it. I was hoping to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; 80% but that means I will have to try harder next time. Last night I didn't even have time to finish even half of the review questions, I know I will be more prepared the next test we have. We started a new unit today and I'm very thankful that so far its easier than the last unit and I'm having a much easier time understanding it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-4588702782847062013?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4588702782847062013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4588702782847062013' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4588702782847062013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4588702782847062013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/10-moth-not-being-peed-on-by-your-baby.html' title='the 10 moth not being peed on by your baby record, whats yours?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-228145717565574514</id><published>2008-07-07T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T21:52:05.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time? What Time?</title><content type='html'>I need more TIME! There honestly is not enough time in a day for everything I want to do! Its crazy I wake up and before I know it, its time for bed. I'm so jam-packed busy between school and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; and just everything in between that I don't know where the time goes. For example, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; will  be ten months old on the 17&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;uhm&lt;/span&gt; what? When did that happen? How is my little new born baby suddenly 10 months old? Oh right, time, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt;... that went surprisingly fast, yet somehow surprisingly slow at the same time. Its hard to explain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;, it feels like forever ago that I had her, but also like I just had her, am I crazy or do you other moms ever feel like this too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting off topic tough, back to my issue with not enough time. I want to finished principles 10 and Social Studies 11 by august 2, I know I'll finish principles 10 by then because its a class, but SS11 is at my own pace and because if my time shortage I only got half a chapter done. Not only school wise, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; hit the gym in about two weeks! I have every intention of going and I really do want to, but I just can't find the time! My room is an absolute mess, same with my bathroom. I don't even have time for this post that I'm writing, I &lt;em&gt;should &lt;/em&gt;be doing math homework. I think I'll go do that actually, I have a big test tomorrow. I'll let you know how I do, wish me luck!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-228145717565574514?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/228145717565574514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=228145717565574514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/228145717565574514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/228145717565574514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/time-what-time.html' title='Time? What Time?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-1084924926549843754</id><published>2008-07-06T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T21:40:41.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Happy kind of Scares Me</title><content type='html'>Today I had what I would consider a really good day. I have absolutely no complaints about today! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; didn't have one fussy moment and was good for me all day, I even got to shower &lt;em&gt;and &lt;/em&gt;had time to straighten my hair. My mom took her to a soccer game so I had some time to do math homework, and then I had a math tutor help me and I'm actually starting to really get it. Once I started to understand it, it kind of got fun! My friend came by to show me her new car! It was really nice, I think it was a civic, she got a red one. We drove around for a bit, had a good time. When it was time for bed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; was all smiles, and didn't cry when I was getting her dressed or anything like that. We just enjoyed quiet play and then I nursed her and then rocked her to sleep with minimal effort. I even &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;transferred&lt;/span&gt; her with hardly a startle (for the record, shes a hard transfer, I usually have to be in super stealth ninja mode when I'm laying her down and I usually fail in my first attempt).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what, why, how can I possibly be worried today of all days, on this particularly good day, you might ask? Well, I believe you have to pay for your good day. On average it's one good day for every three bad days. I'm worried about how the next few days are going to be if today was so good. Whats going to happen, why I got to have such a good day? I know, this doesn't sound like my happy optimistic self here but really no one can have a good day&lt;em&gt; every&lt;/em&gt; day. Your probably thinking I should just shut up and enjoy my good day while I have it, and your right, but I can't help but think about those days that are sure to come. You know what I'm talking about, the days where nothing seems to go right, your plans fall apart before your very eyes, your baby wants you and no one else, and is extremely fussy no matter what you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I kind of wish that there were no bad days, but that would also mean no good days. It would be just days where nothing bad happens but nothing good happens either. I think the good days are pretty worth it though, those days where you can't stop smiling and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; seems funny. Yeah, being stressed out to the point of just wanting to crawl in a hole for say the next ten years isn't fun but if you didn't have those days sometimes you could never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;appreciate&lt;/span&gt; those good days for what they really are: great days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-1084924926549843754?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/1084924926549843754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=1084924926549843754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1084924926549843754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1084924926549843754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/being-happy-kind-of-scares-me.html' title='Being Happy kind of Scares Me'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-7944694896249991364</id><published>2008-07-02T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T21:41:28.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Schools out for summer!!!!!! -- NOT</title><content type='html'>I started summer school today. I forgot how hard math can be! I'm doing principles of math 10, which is the hard math. I took essentials in grade 10 and 11, which is the easy math but you can't go anywhere with it. If I want to go to college, which I obviously do, I need to upgrade. Good-bye summer fun at the lake, hello being stuck in a hot classroom haunched over a calculator. Oh well, it will be worth it. One day when I'm making big bucks as a nurse I'll be glad I worked as hard as I am right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I'm going to keep this post short, because I have lots of math homework to attend to!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-7944694896249991364?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/7944694896249991364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=7944694896249991364' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7944694896249991364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7944694896249991364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/07/schools-out-for-summer-not.html' title='Schools out for summer!!!!!! -- NOT'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-9182507127105573016</id><published>2008-06-30T05:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T05:53:46.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FREE car?</title><content type='html'>If you read my post from &lt;a href="http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-love-my-maja-thats-mother-with-accent.html"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, you'd know that I drive my moms car to go to school and that she really wants it back. Well, in a desperate attempt to reclaim her car, we made a deal. My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;step dad&lt;/span&gt; has a white &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sunfire&lt;/span&gt; from around 2004. Its an okay car, it looks nice on the outside, I can't say the same for the inside though. The big problem for me is that it is a standard, and that I can't drive standard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, if I can successfully learn to drive standard in two weeks, she will give me the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sunfire&lt;/span&gt;. As in, put the car in my name and have it for free, it will be MY car kind of deal. That sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me and I'm totally up for trying. I took the car out yesterday and successfully drove it around the reserve without stalling! However I did stop on the slightest inclination of a hill (it could hardly be called a hill) and even then I started rolling back!  I'm not sure what you call it, but it started like shaking a few times to and I may not have stalled but there were some close calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will keep practicing, because a free car is way to good of an offer to turn down. I just hope I can get good at a standard in two weeks. I don't think I made it clear how bad I am at standard, I am &lt;em&gt;horrible&lt;/em&gt; at it&lt;em&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;I would not trust my driving standard with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; in the car, its mainly a safety thing, and that its not. I'll keep you posted though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-9182507127105573016?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/9182507127105573016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=9182507127105573016' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/9182507127105573016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/9182507127105573016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/free-car.html' title='FREE car?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-6361914589984832462</id><published>2008-06-29T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T21:38:46.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When routines bite you in the butt</title><content type='html'>I'm really good when it comes to following &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesas&lt;/span&gt; bedtime routine: bath, book, song, then bed. Most of the nights I'm more than happy to do all of these things, some nights I'm tired and only do them because I have to. Tonight was either of those nights, I was so tired and just feeling really lazy after a long HOT day. It was her bedtime and she was really tired and super fussy so I knew &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bath time&lt;/span&gt; would be more of a chore than fun play time tonight. I decided to do something I do once in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;blue moon&lt;/span&gt;: skip the bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read to her and sang to her as usual, and I tried to rock her to sleep and she only got more mad. In a desperate attempt for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;quietness&lt;/span&gt; I nursed her hoping that would put her to sleep. Nope, that just refreshed her and she was more awake than before I nursed her, &lt;em&gt;great&lt;/em&gt;. I don't think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; mentioned this before, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; can be very determined when it comes to staying awake if she doesn't want to go to sleep. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;There's&lt;/span&gt; stubborn, and then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt;, my little trooper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love bed time routines, don't get me wrong. I think their great for teaching babies about when its bedtime and routine is awesome, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;structure&lt;/span&gt; is definitely a good thing. The problem is I think it was a little to effective in my case. My daughter refused to go to sleep without that dang bath! I tried to get her to go to sleep for over an hour and a half and wasn't any closer than when I started! Finally, at quarter to 9 (way past her bedtime I might add), I figured I'd just give my little monkey a bath even though she didn't need one because she was swimming earlier and its not like I don't bath her every single day. In the tub, she finally started yawning and rubbing her eyes lots like I wanted her to for awhile. After her bath, it took only ten minutes to get her to go to sleep. Wow, I learned my lesson!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-6361914589984832462?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/6361914589984832462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=6361914589984832462' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6361914589984832462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6361914589984832462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/when-routines-bite-you-in-butt.html' title='When routines bite you in the butt'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-2397458021548342575</id><published>2008-06-27T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T21:26:07.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my Maja (thats "mother" with an accent, btw)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos-f.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v185/156/92/705862055/n705862055_621429_9452.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand" height="345" alt="" src="http://photos-f.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v185/156/92/705862055/n705862055_621429_9452.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think its time for a post about my awesome mom. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;There are &lt;/span&gt;so many things shes done for me and countless things I want to thank her for, but for this post I will stick to how shes been helping vehicle wise. When I was pregnant, she had a mustang. That car was her baby, and she loved it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; it was a two-door and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; not a family car suited for a baby. She decided to trade it in for a Pontiac Vibe, which we all like, but its just not the mustang. She has to pay more for it and her insurance has gone up in order for me to drive it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order for me to go to school, I obviously needed a way to get to school. I don't think I'd be able to go if my mom didn't let me use her car. I can't afford my own car right now, so I just help out with the insurance and we take turns buying gas (which has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt; prices WOW but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; a different post entirely). My poor mom, she was excited for summer because she thought I would have the summer off from school and she could have her car back. Well, I'm doing school all throughout the summer... so I still need the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know your a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;blogstalker&lt;/span&gt; mom, I just wanted to say thank you for all the sacrifices you've made for me and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt;. We love you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-2397458021548342575?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/2397458021548342575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=2397458021548342575' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/2397458021548342575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/2397458021548342575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-love-my-maja-thats-mother-with-accent.html' title='I love my Maja (thats &quot;mother&quot; with an accent, btw)'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-6138971362908021575</id><published>2008-06-25T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T17:59:10.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos-e.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1388084_985.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos-e.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1388084_985.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-e.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1388076_4795.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos-e.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1388076_4795.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-c.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1375282_3415.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos-c.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1375282_3415.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1375280_2900.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1375280_2900.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-e.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1375300_8860.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos-e.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v287/100/114/649835730/n649835730_1375300_8860.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PROM WAS SO MUCH FUN! Sorry for the lastness on the post, I've been &lt;s&gt;procastinating&lt;/s&gt; busy with school! The day started with getting my hair done, my dates mom was a hairdresser, so naturally I asked her to do it! She did an amazing job, it looked beautiful! I had it down and curly :) As I was going to pay, she told me she would take care of it. I thought it was just the sweetest thing ever, she is honestly just the sweetest and nicest person ever! I also got fake eyelashes, they were subtle and not in-your-face long, the looked very natural.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I totally rocked my dress. It was a beautiful emerald green, strapless, and just suited me perfectly. Once I was all dolled up we went to the foreshore (park) for picture taking. I don't have very many pictures with my camera because my date had a hardcore nice camera so we took pictures with his mainly. I'll post a few up, mainly as a preview. Once I get all the pictures and get a chance to edit them appropriately, I'll do a post with them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to the prom at 6:30, and dinner started at 7. They called different table numbers to go up and get food. Our table was number two, so I assumed it went in numerical order. Wrong. They called random numbers, and ours was called closer to the end. Apparently I was a lot hungrier than I thought, because I couldn't wait to go up and get food. I sat beside my date and his parents, and my life-long friend Richelle and her date, and she has a big family who I'm also related to so I sat by them but not close enough to realy chat with. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our theme was "Phantom of the Opera". I think my faourite part of the decorations was this chandillier. It was really cool, and they had this empty frame for us to take pictures in. I got one with Huy (date) but the first one the flash didn't go off so you couldn't really see us. Good thing we got a second, where we did a little pose. During the dinner I tried on Richelle silk gloves, and I felt so fancy wearing them. The dinner was awesome, it was really good. I really enjoyed my time, had a lot of fun chatting with Huy and his parents and Richelle. Unfortuneately, Huy had to leave after the dinner because he was getting his black belt the next day (which he did get by the way! Yeah, my prom date was a black belt!). I stayed a little later, after the dinner they did a promonade, where everyone basically walks around and people take pictures. I decided not to participate, because it was mainly for the grads and since I technically wasn't gradding and m date who was wasn't there, it wouldn't be a good idea to do it. After that, they did a "friends slideshow". It was a good slideshow, except it was kind of all the same people. I was in it a few times, it was mostly old pictures that people uploaded to facebook. After that there was some performances, I got kind of bored when they were reading a ton of awknoledgements, and at that point was seriously missing Telesa. I decided it was time to call it a night, my feet were already killing me and I wasn't in a dancing mood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I got home my mom was pretty surprised to see me so early. Nevertheless, she gave up her babysitting duties with joy and went to bed because she was really tired. That day was the most time I've ever spent away from Telesa so it was really hard. While it was a nice break, I really missed her at the end of the day. I probably could have went to one of the many after prom parties, but the responsible parent in me said I just really missed Telesa and I should stay home with her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, blogspot isn't the best for displaying photos. If any of you blogstalkers has facebook, add me: Ellie Parton (&lt;a href="mailto:el_03_3@hotmail.com"&gt;el_03_3@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt;) and you can see pictures of prom and theres also a TON of pictures of Telesa. When you add me just send me a message saying your a blogstalker, if not if I don't recognize you I'll ask who you are haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-6138971362908021575?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/6138971362908021575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=6138971362908021575' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6138971362908021575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6138971362908021575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/prom-2008.html' title='Prom 2008'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-1236380722524790181</id><published>2008-06-20T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T22:54:43.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom is tomorrow!</title><content type='html'>Prom is tomorrow! I am so excited! I don't know if I posted about my dress yet, it was going to be white but I changed my mind last minute and now I'm wearing this stunning emerald green colored dress! Its strapless and its to die for, I can't wait! I know I picked an awesome date, because he went out and bought an emerald green tie to match, even though he hates to wear green! What a trooper eh? lol, I thought it was pretty cute though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom did a "practice" night with Telesa last night, seeing as how shes never watched her at night before. She did a really good job and I don't think she will be needing me at all tomorrow night and I think I can enjoy prom without to much worry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about it, and prom is kind of sad. Like, I know it'll be a ton of fun, but at the same time it will be the last time I will see many of the people I grew up with, the people I've been going to school with for years. Sure, I'll be going back to highschool next year but they won't. I won't be seeing a ton of friendly faces in the hall, only younger people I don't really know. My life long best friend Richelle will be moving to Ontario, because shes going to Queens University (side note: SUPER PROUD OF YOU RICHELLE! You are so smart, and you will do amazing things in your future!). For my blogstalkers who live far away and don't know where I live or where Queens is, lets just say its hundreds of miles apart, basically opposite sides of Canada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited, nerrvous, happy, sad, and everything in between! I will probably post sunday on how it went and I'll add pictures as i edit them :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-1236380722524790181?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/1236380722524790181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=1236380722524790181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1236380722524790181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1236380722524790181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/prom-is-tomorrow.html' title='Prom is tomorrow!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-8409630582480868398</id><published>2008-06-18T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T22:46:49.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm allowed bad days</title><content type='html'>Miss. Overly Optimistic here, bummed to report I'm bummed today. Despite my feeble attempts at seeing everything with a silver lining, the forecast calls for slightly cloudy with a good chance of rain. Why? I'm not sure. I can tell you I'm really starting to feel the stress of school and well, you guys are my blog stalkers, you know... I'm sure you can imagine some of the things I'm stressing about. Prom is this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; and I'm really worried about it yet excited at the same time. Money is a big concern, hair, make-up, and everything else adds up amazingly fast! Also, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; hasn't gone a night without me I don't know how she will handle it. I don't know how I will handle it. Will I be able to enjoy my prom or will I be picturing a crying baby? I'm trying to get my mom to do practice nights so they get used to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt; and so I feel confident leaving her, so I can actually focus on having a good time. Hopefully it'll be a great night, and not a night filled with stress. Either way, I'll look stunning in my dress with my hair did, and I'll be sure to take lots of pics and post some here for all of my faithful readers, whoever you are :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and don't worry about me. Sometimes I have days. Not many, but I'm human and I'm allowed to be sad sometimes. I'll probably be my usual the glass is half full self by the morning (I hope).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-8409630582480868398?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/8409630582480868398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=8409630582480868398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8409630582480868398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8409630582480868398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-allowed-bad-days.html' title='I&apos;m allowed bad days'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-1460286889099034405</id><published>2008-06-15T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T10:05:26.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The glass is half full.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SFVLz5IKDrI/AAAAAAAAAE8/oVfR7de-fHc/s1600-h/n705862055_947903_4946+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212155498631663282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SFVLz5IKDrI/AAAAAAAAAE8/oVfR7de-fHc/s400/n705862055_947903_4946+copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think its important to take a moment to reflect on all the good things I got going for me and look at the positive aspect of not to good things. Well I think the best and most obvious thing is that I have a beautiful daughter who I love more than life itself. She brings me so much joy, I am so much happier now than I have ever been in my entire life. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I think it couldn't be possible to love her any more than I already do, she does somethings that makes my heart swell with pride .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have good friends and good family, who I know would die for me. Sarah is HOME and she has been there for me from the beginning, she was the first person I told about the pregnancy. My mom has been super supportive and helpful whenever I need her going above and beyond my expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a young mom, and a lot of people might see that as a negative thing but I love it. I'm a better person for it and I have high hopes for my future. When I'm forty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; will already be graduated and moved out. I may have lost my "young years" but it was more than worth it and I get to really enjoy my "old years".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a single mom, and sure being a single parent has its hard spots but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; a lot of positive aspects to it. I got to choose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Telesas&lt;/span&gt; name, no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;arguments&lt;/span&gt;, no settlements, no one to 'veto' my favourite names. I get to decide how to raise her. No one to tell me that co-sleeping is bad or any of the other decisions I made as a parent. I can raise her as I see fit. It sucks that I have to pay for everything but at the same time I can take pride that I am the sole provider for my daughter. See that cute outfit shes wearing? I bought it. That toy shes playing with? I bought it. You get the picture. Plus I know I won't be single forever, I'm a pretty good catch in my humble opinion. I'm easy on the eyes, nice, somewhat funny, and overall I have a good personality and after college/university I will have a great career. Plus, I think I have a good attitude about life, I try to ignore the negative and focus on the positive! Best of all I get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; ALL TO MYSELF and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; no competition for love, we both love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt; more than anyone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-1460286889099034405?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/1460286889099034405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=1460286889099034405' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1460286889099034405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1460286889099034405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/glass-is-half-full.html' title='The glass is half full.'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SFVLz5IKDrI/AAAAAAAAAE8/oVfR7de-fHc/s72-c/n705862055_947903_4946+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-1839640211956028189</id><published>2008-06-11T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T22:06:59.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ZOMG sarahs home!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;SARAHS HOME! If you read my fast track page, you'll know exactly who Sarah is. Shes my best friend, Telesas Godmother (who she calls Aunty) and for lack of better terms the baby daddy, not litterally of course, but all throughout my pregnan&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SFCuWQEfvrI/AAAAAAAAAE0/XgknPnIYaMo/s1600-h/TSRP+JUNE+554.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210856466161843890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SFCuWQEfvrI/AAAAAAAAAE0/XgknPnIYaMo/s400/TSRP+JUNE+554.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;cy till she left for Mexico, she definitly played that roll. She left in November to volenteer at an orphanage and had plans to come back around now but changed them until September when I was expecting her back. Imagine my shock when I seen her today! It was a total surprise! I couldn't even help myself I yelled "SARAH?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and gave her a big hug and started crying, and told her shes never allowed to leave me again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is going back, I think shes going to Alberta at some point to. I'm not to sure, I'll have to get the details from her tomorrow. She brought back the most beautiful dress from Mexico, its really dressy but I'm gunna dress Telesa in it tomorrow. I'm thinking thats what she can wear to my prom pictures. Speaking of tomorrow, my poor girl is getting more shots. They are seriously never ending. I know they are for her best or whatever but it makes my gut sink all the unknowns about vaccinations, what if down the road they discovered vaccines are more damaging than helpful? I guess all I can do is hope for the best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel pretty stupid asking this, but I'm still fairly new to the blogging world. I'm still figuring out my RSS feed thing, but I think I have it figured out. What I'm confused about is what exactly is a blogroll? A recent commenter (who happens to be one of my favourite bloggers) is adding me to her blogroll, and I want to add her back. But I don't have a blogroll. Theres a few I want to add actually, like jessicaclaire.net! I lov&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SFCuDOocJXI/AAAAAAAAAEs/u2f-LhJzYkI/s1600-h/TSRP+JUNE+553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210856139358217586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SFCuDOocJXI/AAAAAAAAAEs/u2f-LhJzYkI/s400/TSRP+JUNE+553.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e looking at her wedding pictures.&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/1839625998166393564-1839640211956028189?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/1839640211956028189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=1839640211956028189' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1839640211956028189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1839640211956028189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/zomg-sarahs-home.html' title='ZOMG sarahs home!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SFCuWQEfvrI/AAAAAAAAAE0/XgknPnIYaMo/s72-c/TSRP+JUNE+554.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-5838256008040179323</id><published>2008-06-09T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T21:07:33.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Wow, thats sucky..."</title><content type='html'>So, I was talking to this person in the library today, and I just kind of assume everyone knows I have a baby because its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt;, right? Well, apparently this person didn't know somehow, and I brought &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; up I think I said "my daughter" or something to that effect and he just kind of looked at me stunned and confused. Then I got confused because hello, who doesn't know I have a baby in this school? It really threw me off &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;guard&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was all "What?" and I was all "yeah I have an 8 month old..." and hes like "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;whoa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;why'd&lt;/span&gt; you have a baby so EARLY:"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was all in shock and I was all thrown off that he didn't know and just his general shock. I muttered and mumbled but couldn't really figure out what to say. I mean I know I had her young but I'm really happy about it and I'm not used to people &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;referring&lt;/span&gt; to her as "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sucky&lt;/span&gt;". Its not like my grandpa just died, no need to bring out the "s" word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It REALLY threw me off if I didn't make that clear enough, I just said something about how she was a good thing and got me on the right path or something, because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; all I could think of to say at my time of extreme-off-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;throwness&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; so not a word, I realize this, but we can pretend).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I kind of want to go back to him and be like "I love my daughter more than I even knew was possible and she makes me happier today than I have ever been in my entire life. She gives purpose to my life and a reason to be a good person. Being a young mom is the hardest and most rewarding thing I have ever done and is the furthest thing from "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;sucky&lt;/span&gt;" I can think of." or something along those lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hate being thrown off like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-5838256008040179323?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/5838256008040179323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=5838256008040179323' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5838256008040179323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5838256008040179323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/wow-thats-sucky.html' title='&quot;Wow, thats sucky...&quot;'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-7174769473278323902</id><published>2008-06-06T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T22:34:36.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pick Cha's</title><content type='html'>Back in March the Young Parent Program (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;YPP&lt;/span&gt;) had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;photo shoot&lt;/span&gt; for us! I just got the pictures today, and wanted to share them with my blog stalkers! On probably &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wendsday&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; I'll be posting pictures from my shoot with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Alaina&lt;/span&gt; from yesterday :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another topic, I finished earth science with 88% and English 11 with 86%! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;YAY&lt;/span&gt;! I jut started family studies 11 today, if I work super hard I can get it done before summer so I can work on family studies 12 over the summer :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, here are my favourites from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;YPP&lt;/span&gt; shoot. Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-f.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922549_7373.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-f.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922549_7373.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922547_5152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922547_5152.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-f.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922525_9434.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-f.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922525_9434.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-c.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922522_6213.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-c.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922522_6213.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922507_6557.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-d.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922507_6557.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922504_3912.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v249/94/10/507573331/n507573331_922504_3912.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SEoXbzxTsxI/AAAAAAAAAEk/NUi66I38ox8/s1600-h/teen+mom+2+186.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209001685528326930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SEoXbzxTsxI/AAAAAAAAAEk/NUi66I38ox8/s400/teen+mom+2+186.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SEoQ3WUWvpI/AAAAAAAAAEU/1NZBhE-YwCw/s1600-h/teen+mom+2+172.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208994462077206162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SEoQ3WUWvpI/AAAAAAAAAEU/1NZBhE-YwCw/s400/teen+mom+2+172.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-7174769473278323902?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/7174769473278323902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=7174769473278323902' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7174769473278323902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7174769473278323902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/pick-chas.html' title='Pick Cha&apos;s'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SEoXbzxTsxI/AAAAAAAAAEk/NUi66I38ox8/s72-c/teen+mom+2+186.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-8841437393309702127</id><published>2008-06-03T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T20:37:05.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My Jeeze, I Must Be CRAZY!</title><content type='html'>HOW AM I GOING TO DO THIS? Is what I have been asking myself over and over. Today, I realized I want to be a nurse, not just a nurse, I want to be an RN, and I want to go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;UVIC&lt;/span&gt; to get my bachelors of science in nursing. I took the easy math so I will be going to summer school to get math principles 10 (the hard one) so I can take principles 11 and 12 next year. My class schedule looks something like this: First semester A) Biology 12 B) Principles 11 C) Geology 12 D) English 12 and Second semester A) Chemistry 11 B) Physics 11 C) Principles 12 D) Social Studies 11. Can you say FULL LOAD? My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;easiest&lt;/span&gt; class with be geology, oh boy, what have I gotten myself into? But I really want to go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;UVIC&lt;/span&gt; and this is the only way I'll meet their requirements! If I don't get accepted though I'll go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;NIC&lt;/span&gt; because their requirements are super easy compared to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;UVICs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, its a four year course. This will be SO hard I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around HOW I'm going to do it all. Hey moms, got any good time management advice? My main concern is how I'm going to find time to do homework and study for the next five years!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-8841437393309702127?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/8841437393309702127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=8841437393309702127' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8841437393309702127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8841437393309702127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/06/oh-my-jeeze-i-must-be-crazy.html' title='Oh My Jeeze, I Must Be CRAZY!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-7280677797844227858</id><published>2008-05-29T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T20:54:24.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its about time</title><content type='html'>Sleep Training. Oh. My. God. It is hard work. I just keep telling myself "short term work, long term reward" and so far its been keeping me going. There are so many ways to sleep train your baby its not even funny, it took me so long to start because I've spent hours reading about the different ways trying to figure out what was good for us. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;There's&lt;/span&gt; two main ways: Cry-it-out and non-cry-it-out, and many variations on each. I am an attachment style parent so I decided non-cry-it-out would be better for me and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt;, although I hear cry-it-out works wonders for some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;family's&lt;/span&gt;. After reading the many variations and approaches, I finally made a plan and I'm sticking to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Telesas&lt;/span&gt; main problem is she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;relys&lt;/span&gt; on me to go to bed (by "me" I mean my boobs, she almost always needs to be nursed to sleep). Not only does she not take the bottle so she can't eat without me but she can't even sleep without me, two things that babies are all about! Can you blame me for feeling a little trapped sometimes? I can't see her budging on the bottle thing, but on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt; night I refused to put her to sleep by nursing or ever again. I am proud to say she no longer needs the boob to fall asleep! It was hard work though. I'm going to repeat to make sure you understand: It was hard work. HARD work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started off with our bedtime routine of a bath and then topped her off with the boob and got to work. I starting walking and swaying and patting her bum to get her to go to sleep. Once she realized she was falling asleep without &lt;s&gt;boob&lt;/s&gt; me she started crying. That was the first time I've ever let her cry and wow was it hard. It broke my heart to hear her cry for me and it took all my strength not to just nurse her but I knew in the long run this was better for her. She cried for about 45 minutes before she gave up and fell asleep. When she woke up, I'd rock her back to sleep. I'd only nurse her If I thought she was hungry, and would take her off before she fell asleep. The second night it took 30 minutes, the third night 20, and tonight 7 minutes. At daycare shes starting to nap better and without me. I've managed to get Macbeth done as a result of my extra time in school for her not needing me to sleep. I can now safely go to prom without worrying about my daughter not sleeping without me. I have a little bit more freedom. It was hard work but totally worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-7280677797844227858?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/7280677797844227858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=7280677797844227858' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7280677797844227858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7280677797844227858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/its-about-time.html' title='Its about time'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-3096198063031081837</id><published>2008-05-23T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T22:45:02.385-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty and the Beast</title><content type='html'>I don't know if anyone reads my blog on a regular basis but if you do, I'm sorry its been so long since my last post I'll try to post more frequently from now on. I don't even have an excuse for not posting lately, things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; been any more havoc than usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I went to "Beauty and the Beast" put on by my schools musical theatre class. I tried to bring &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; but I think shes to young for plays, because it really scared her. She was totally fine out in the halls but as soon as i brought her in the dark loud room full of people she would start fussing, and I can't say I blame her. I called my mom, and it was Grandma to the rescue. She picked &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; up for me to watch until the show was over, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt;, that was the plan. I got a call during intermission, she was crying and was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;inconsolable&lt;/span&gt;. By the time I got home my poor baby cried herself to sleep. For the record, I'm an attachment style parent and for my daughter that is not okay. Needless to say when I seen her sleeping yet clearly distraught I felt absolutely terrible. I felt really bad, like a really selfish bad mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I felt bad for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Huy&lt;/span&gt; who I had to leave behind at the play so I could attend to my daughter. Thankfully hes a really understanding guy, and I respect him that much more for it. Its just really hard sometimes, because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I try to have somewhat of a life this happens. I really need to start getting more time to myself for just me. I feel really selfish saying that, but I think I'm slowly losing myself right now. I'm becoming less "Ellie" and more "mom" everyday and I'm afraid one day I won't recognize myself. I'm having a hard time describing this feeling, but its like I am so wrapped up in taking care of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; its hard to find time to take care of me. I didn't really know who I was exactly before I was pregnant and now I'm even more confused. What I do know though is that I'm a very strong and determined person, who loves her daughter to  the moon and back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-3096198063031081837?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/3096198063031081837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=3096198063031081837' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3096198063031081837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3096198063031081837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/beauty-and-beast.html' title='Beauty and the Beast'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-484958949257991631</id><published>2008-05-15T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:52:42.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She hates crawling, but loves rolling.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e4dff1e5c85a56f6" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De4dff1e5c85a56f6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329873696%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DAE7B1E8E685C77E04B3EFBF151BDCDF704952D7.19DA80102E4AEBEF40B2936117B1EADD74B0F73%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De4dff1e5c85a56f6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDzGhNPHmOe09fHYxqU4Pa3wppo4&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De4dff1e5c85a56f6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329873696%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DAE7B1E8E685C77E04B3EFBF151BDCDF704952D7.19DA80102E4AEBEF40B2936117B1EADD74B0F73%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De4dff1e5c85a56f6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDzGhNPHmOe09fHYxqU4Pa3wppo4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-484958949257991631?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e4dff1e5c85a56f6&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/484958949257991631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=484958949257991631' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/484958949257991631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/484958949257991631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/she-hates-crawling-but-loves-rolling.html' title='She hates crawling, but loves rolling.'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4226672974192255782</id><published>2008-05-11T23:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T07:26:53.285-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DON'T Call Me a MILF Please</title><content type='html'>I would much rather someone tell me I'm a good mom than tell me I'm "hot". It's not hard to be pretty, but being a good mom takes a lot of effort and work. Is it just me or is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;MILF&lt;/span&gt; thing getting old? I always take it as "Mom I'd Like to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;". I really hope guys don't consider that a compliment, same with "Yummy Mommy". I guess one of the downfalls of being a young mom is I'm a hot mom, or *shudder* "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MILF&lt;/span&gt;". I don't know why but I'm almost insulted by the term. I prefer "beautiful" or something like that. But my best and favourite compliment is always about my parenting skills, or about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt;. Basically any compliment surrounding Telesa makes me happy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Aww&lt;/span&gt; shes so cute shes starting to sleep on her side and she looks so sweet right now. I wish you could see adorable she looks right now. Not that she doesn't every second of every day, but especially right now :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-4226672974192255782?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4226672974192255782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4226672974192255782' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4226672974192255782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4226672974192255782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/dont-call-me-milf-please.html' title='DON&apos;T Call Me a MILF Please'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4553730183372802770</id><published>2008-05-11T20:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T21:57:43.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trips to Emerg., Delicious Dinner, and My First Mothers Day</title><content type='html'>What a hectic weekend! I had to take &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; to the hospital on Friday! It was so scary! She vomited EVERYTHING in her stomach, and about 15 minutes later she started dry heaving and puked up this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mucusy&lt;/span&gt; stuff. She kept doing it and had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;diarrhea&lt;/span&gt;. She dry heaved another 5 times in the period of two hours and afterward she was so tired she couldn't hold her head up and kept falling asleep. I took her to the Alder medical walk-in but the lady said it'd be about an hour wait and to go to the superstore walk-in. Big mistake. When I went there, this RUDE receptionist tried to tell me she wasn't covered by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;MSP&lt;/span&gt; or something. I tried to tell her she was full status and she does have coverage but she said unless I could fork up $63 before I see the doctor I need to leave. I felt so low at that moment, like one of the poor people in that documentary "Sicko" where people couldn't afford health insurance where greedy hospitals turn down even the sickest people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was furious but didn't have the money so I went to the ER because they can't turn you down there and I needed to make sure she was okay. She was fine once we got to the hospital, as it always is, but I was happy she was finally herself. When I went to get a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;blue card&lt;/span&gt; for her at the front desk, the lady confirmed she was in fact medically covered and there was no reason the superstore walk-in should have turned me down. I officially hate them now. I got to the ER a little after 4, and didn't see the doctor until after 7. I was so not impressed. I was however impressed with how good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; was waiting, even not considering the circumstances. It wasn't until 7 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; (close to her bed time) that she got really fussy and cried a lot. I walked around the nurses station with her while she was crying, let &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; tell them to hurry it up already. She was fine when the doctor seen her and didn't really tell me anything I didn't already know. I pretty much wasted my time there but it was important just to rule out anything serious. He wasn't able to tell me what was wrong with her but I suspect she had a stomach flu because she had the exact same symptoms I did when I had the stomach flu a couple months ago. Poor baby girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went for a Mothers day dinner with the other young moms on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt;, it was lots of fun. We went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Kotos&lt;/span&gt;, a delicious &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Japanese&lt;/span&gt; restaurant. Then today I had a really awesome first mothers day! It was really exciting :) I got the spray on tan I wanted! Well, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;certificate&lt;/span&gt; for one, I'll be making an appointment tomorrow. I went swimming with Brock and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Richelle&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; had a blast, although she was a little unsure what to think of it in the beginning. I got lots of pictures, but I am now waiting to get them from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Brock's&lt;/span&gt; camera, so I can't show you them just yet. I also went to the farmers market and went shopping with Brock and got gas. Gas prices really suck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-4553730183372802770?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4553730183372802770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4553730183372802770' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4553730183372802770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4553730183372802770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/trips-to-emerg-delicious-dinner-and-my.html' title='Trips to Emerg., Delicious Dinner, and My First Mothers Day'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4968600911357277431</id><published>2008-05-09T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T22:05:28.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I Eat because I am Unhappy, and I'm Unhappy because I Eat"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SCfP0JUO_BI/AAAAAAAAAEM/SZJXP8Kv2G4/s1600-h/Nautilus%2520718%2520Treadmill.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199352789583461394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SCfP0JUO_BI/AAAAAAAAAEM/SZJXP8Kv2G4/s200/Nautilus%2520718%2520Treadmill.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am going to lose the last ten pounds before my daughter turns 1. It has been my goal since giving birth to lose all of my "baby fat" before she turns one. I weighed 120 before I was pregnant, and just over 180 a week before delivering. I didn't weigh myself shortly after for fear of what the scale would say but a few weeks after her birth I weighed 155 (this was after losing weight in the first few weeks, I don't want to know what I weighed right after). After that the pounds seemed to fall off for me. In the matter of months I went down to 135 without even dieting or exercising. I thought "at the rate, I might even be skinner than before"! Wrong, I just stopped losing weight and started gaining again, I'll blame it on the nachos. I have been trying so hard these past few months to even just get in the 120's but alas I weigh about 133 now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My plan: Work it off. I joined the gym today, and will attempt to eat healthy. But I don't eat vegetables, so that will be hard. It wouldn't be the end of the world to me if I never lose the weight, but the thing is, I bought my prom dress a little to small back in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Febuary&lt;/span&gt; as motivation to lose weight by my prom this June. Crap, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; in what? Six weeks or so and I need to lose about ten pounds to fit it nicely. Worst comes to worst I can suck in and it'll just be extremely tight. I mean who needs to breath, breathing is so last season.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-4968600911357277431?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4968600911357277431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4968600911357277431' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4968600911357277431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4968600911357277431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-eat-because-i-am-unhappy-and-im.html' title='&quot;I Eat because I am Unhappy, and I&apos;m Unhappy because I Eat&quot;'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SCfP0JUO_BI/AAAAAAAAAEM/SZJXP8Kv2G4/s72-c/Nautilus%2520718%2520Treadmill.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-8599073201430715372</id><published>2008-05-07T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T14:01:45.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mothers Month</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SCIYdl-yPyI/AAAAAAAAAEE/JcZUBk_bLXE/s1600-h/may+2008+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197743816629698338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SCIYdl-yPyI/AAAAAAAAAEE/JcZUBk_bLXE/s200/may+2008+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I was thinking about it, and I decided mothers deserve more than a day of recognition. So much more, in fact. We should get like a week, or even a whole month. Yeah, and it can be "Mothers Month". Well, we all know how unrealistic that is. We do deserve it though, but I'm happy with the one day. I am really, really excited for my first mothers day this sunday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's crazy how fast time goes by, just this time last year I was pregnant and filling my face, scared/excited about becoming a mother. Next year I'll be posting about how this time last year I spent my first mothers day with a little baby but now shes a walking toddler. I'm still in denial though, next year seems so far away right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I havn't totally planned everything yet though. So far, I want to sleep in, have breakfast, go to the mothers day swim at the swimming pool, and I havn't decided what else. I have a gift certificate for Moxies (local restaurant) which I might use up on mothers day. I guess one of the sucky parts of being a single mom is I don't really have anyone to buy me a gift "from Telesa". I asked my mom to get me a spray on tan from "Aloha" (local spa) but I don't think thats happening.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What about you other moms? Do you have any fun and exciting plans for mothers day? Let me know, I need some ideas!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Photo: My cousin Tamara and her "baby"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-8599073201430715372?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/8599073201430715372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=8599073201430715372' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8599073201430715372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8599073201430715372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/mothers-month.html' title='Mothers Month'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SCIYdl-yPyI/AAAAAAAAAEE/JcZUBk_bLXE/s72-c/may+2008+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-5692798865539286372</id><published>2008-05-05T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T21:04:47.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness 101</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SB_Xb9SF6II/AAAAAAAAAD8/MUxXeYgP3gk/s1600-h/may+2008+138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197109370315729026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SB_Xb9SF6II/AAAAAAAAAD8/MUxXeYgP3gk/s320/may+2008+138.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The three grand essentials to happiness in this life are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just seen this quote, and love it. I couldn't agree more! It would explain why I truly feel happy, more happy than I have ever been, despite the hardships. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; have something to do, I am so busy between school and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; is not even funny but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; never a dull moment. I have something to love, well some ONE to be more specific. If &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; has taught me one thing it is what true love really is, the kind of love I never knew existed that fills my heart &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I look at her. I also have something to hope for. I have lots to hope for. I want to graduate next year, and then its college after that. I want to get a career started and own my own home and car. I want to meet my prince charming and have lots more babies. I'm so full of hopes, aspirations, and dreams I could burst.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It would also explain why I was so unhappy before. Before I became pregnant my life consisted of working at a fast food joint and doing bad in school. Sure I dated but I've never been in love. I also didn't look into the future that much, I lived my life day-to-day and didn't have big hopes. I honestly think I needed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; to turn my life around and get me back on track. I know I had her young for a reason and she is meant to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so happy now and loving life. I think the glass is half full, and my cup &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;runnith&lt;/span&gt; over. I really wish you guys happiness to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-5692798865539286372?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/5692798865539286372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=5692798865539286372' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5692798865539286372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5692798865539286372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/happiness-101.html' title='Happiness 101'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SB_Xb9SF6II/AAAAAAAAAD8/MUxXeYgP3gk/s72-c/may+2008+138.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-611704455503439142</id><published>2008-05-03T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T22:11:09.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I THINK I'M PREGNANT AGAIN</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Well, I hope that got your attention, sorry for the scare. No, there is no way I could be pregnant again, unless an alien abducted me in my sleep and implanted alien babies that I don't know about yet (if I believed in aliens, I'd be pretty scared right now). &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, I kind of look pregnant again, well I'm just really bloated because I ate WAY to much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fettuccine&lt;/span&gt; a&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lfredo&lt;/span&gt;. I made myself a big, big, plate swimming in sauce and by the end I was practically forcing myself to take bites because I didn't want to waste. It was really delicious though. I'm regretting it now though because I look like I did when I was 4 or 5 months pregnant (granted I was pretty small then but still). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Looking at my not-pregnant big belly made me really miss having a pregnant belly. I absolutely loved being pregnant despite the morning sickness and swollen ankles and heartburn and the constant need to go pee. I loved being able to eat as much as I wanted guilt free. It was such a miracle feeling her kick inside me, I miss that the most. I loved looking at my tummy in all its hugeness and picturing what my daughter would look like and what it would be like to hold her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I don't miss about being pregnant was the constant judgement from strangers. I still get it today, but not as bad. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;At least&lt;/span&gt; now they can see shes happy, healthy and I'm doing a great job and just judge me based on my age. But when I was pregnant people would assume I was doomed to be a bad mom because of my age. They would assume the worst and I hated it. I'm just grateful that now I have an opportunity to prove them wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196384981131585650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SB1Em9SF6HI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iZe536KnN2Y/s400/photoshoot+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Photo: Me, about 8 months pregnant. Stunningly captured by the Talented Alaina Lander of 'Kallisti Photography'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-611704455503439142?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/611704455503439142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=611704455503439142' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/611704455503439142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/611704455503439142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-think-im-pregnant-again.html' title='I THINK I&apos;M PREGNANT AGAIN'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SB1Em9SF6HI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iZe536KnN2Y/s72-c/photoshoot+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-8258716389140239759</id><published>2008-05-01T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T23:02:39.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick/Greys night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SBqtZ9SF6GI/AAAAAAAAADs/mj_-uGnhawY/s1600-h/red_rose2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195655781584070754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SBqtZ9SF6GI/AAAAAAAAADs/mj_-uGnhawY/s200/red_rose2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My poor sick baby girl! She has the cold again and can hardly breath through her nose! She just wanted to nurse and when she couldn't because she could hardly breath she would just cry! I finally managed to get her asleep by rocking her and patting her bum. We're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; not going to school tomorrow, she just really needs to get better! I'm not going to lie though it was extremely cute when she was sleeping with her mouth wide open! I was like leaning in to smell her breath (a little creepy I know) but her baby breath smells so good! And it won't be long before it turns into stinky toddler breath! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;, come on moms I know I'm not the only one, did you not love the smell of your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;baby's&lt;/span&gt; breath? Screw roses, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;going to&lt;/span&gt; stop and smell the inside of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;baby's&lt;/span&gt; mouth :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did anyone catch Greys Anatomy tonight? I totally think Derek and Meredith need to get back together like ASAP, I don't like that new nurse. Rose, is it? Was any else thrown off by the Callie/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Haun&lt;/span&gt; relationship thing? Oh, sorry I mean "Erica".... that was so out of no where! &lt;s&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Haun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt; Erica seems to dig Callie, and Callie seems to dig &lt;s&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Haun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;damnit&lt;/span&gt;) Erica too, but doesn't want to admit it and is kind of in denial (hence the hook up with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;McSteamy&lt;/span&gt;). I'm glad HIV &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;lady is going to have the baby, and I'm pretty mad brain tumour guy died, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; the baby with&lt;/span&gt; the heart on the outside survived I'd be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;SOOO&lt;/span&gt; sad if he she died! I loved the parents optimism about it all, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Karev's&lt;/span&gt; a jerk for trying to bring them down, yeah they were a little too happy but so what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Karev&lt;/span&gt;: DID &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;REBECCA&lt;/span&gt; FAKE HER PREGNANCY? I think that's what they meant in the end but I couldn't really hear it because the volume was really low (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; was sleeping). I'd be so mad if she did, like that would be the stupidest thing to lie about, clearly it would only make things worse in the end. Why does Addison have to leave again? I'm so sad, I got all excited thinking she was moving back, I'm not a huge fan of Private Practice. I would have laughed out loud during the elevator scene had I not been holding a sleeping baby. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;UHH&lt;/span&gt; awkward much? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-8258716389140239759?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/8258716389140239759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=8258716389140239759' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8258716389140239759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8258716389140239759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-poor-sick-baby-girl-she-has-cold.html' title='Sick/Greys night'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SBqtZ9SF6GI/AAAAAAAAADs/mj_-uGnhawY/s72-c/red_rose2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-1602008429735117512</id><published>2008-05-01T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T14:12:22.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Victory Never Tasted So Sweet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Literally&lt;/span&gt;.... I WON the years supply of Ben and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Jerrys&lt;/span&gt; ice cream and whip cream I wrote about in the last post! How lucky am I right? Its awesome because I usually never win anything! Whats your favourite B&amp;amp;J flavour? Give me some ideas on what to start with :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In personal news, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; now has her first status card! Whats funny is my baby is more native than me and the birthfather! We're both half native but get this: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; is full native! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Yep&lt;/span&gt;, my baby girl is a full blooded &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Indian&lt;/span&gt; :) Registered with my band of course. I have absolutely no idea how or why she is full native, I totally thought she would only be half. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;INAC&lt;/span&gt; rules I guess, two halves make a whole :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-1602008429735117512?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/1602008429735117512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=1602008429735117512' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1602008429735117512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1602008429735117512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/05/victory-never-tasted-so-sweet.html' title='Victory Never Tasted So Sweet'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-5792761804480984340</id><published>2008-04-27T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T12:00:59.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WIN A YEARS SUPPLY OF ICE CREAM</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Yeah, you read the title right. When I heard that&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://table4five.net/2008/04/15/win-a-years-supply-of-reddi-wip-and-ben-jerrys-ice-cream/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Elizabeth at Table for Five&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;was giving away a years supply of ice cream and lots of whipped cream, I wanted to let you guys know to. So head on over and enter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;yourself&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but it ends April 29, so go fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good-luck!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-5792761804480984340?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/5792761804480984340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=5792761804480984340' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5792761804480984340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5792761804480984340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/win-years-supply-of-ice-cream.html' title='WIN A YEARS SUPPLY OF ICE CREAM'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-2936350650899558340</id><published>2008-04-24T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T22:59:24.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Music to my Ears</title><content type='html'>My favourite sound in the whole wide world is the noise &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; makes when shes falling asleep but doesn't want to. She fights sleep tooth and nail, and when I hear that noise I know shes throwing in the gloves. Its almost like a growl, a cute baby growl that melts my heart &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I sat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; on the washer while it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;spinning&lt;/span&gt;, and her chubby cheeks were just a-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;jigglin&lt;/span&gt;' away! It was so adorable, I laughed so hard. My friend got in on camera thankfully, I'll try get it on here when he gets it to me! She was tired though, she loved it at first but then started fussing because it was past her bed time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quit smoking cold turkey when I was pregnant and never looked back. Tonight though, I wanted to smoke a 'Prime Time', for old times sake. It's a small, flavoured cigar, that I don't find addicting. I'm not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;going to &lt;/span&gt;lie, I'm still a smoker at heart but when I look into my daughters eyes it doesn't seem worth it so I don't want to start again. I don't mind a 'Prime Time' once on occasion though, you can call it my reward. I loved it, I forgot how much I missed smoking. I also forgot how sick to your stomach you feel after. It'll be awhile before I light up again &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; for sure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-2936350650899558340?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/2936350650899558340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=2936350650899558340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/2936350650899558340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/2936350650899558340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/like-music-to-my-ears.html' title='Like Music to my Ears'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-3566864614685195296</id><published>2008-04-20T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T22:01:45.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Glare City</title><content type='html'>Today I went to superstore to grab some shampoo while my mom watched &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt;. I kind of forgot what it was like to go somewhere without feeling peoples eyes glued to you. I didn't get a single glare, it was nice. I suppose I've kind of become more and more immune to strangers judgements as time went on. Well, I'm not sure I want to use to word immune, but over time I started caring less and less what these judgemental people thought. My daughter is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Major&lt;/span&gt; blessing and it makes me really sad anyone would feel otherwise. I realize I am young but that doesn't make me any less of a parent, what gives anyone the right to judge me before knowing the full situation? If they did, they would see I loved my daughter unconditionally and I am doing everything I can to be the best parent I can possibly be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend though, I went to a different town to do some shopping. While I was in a store for about an hour, I had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; 6 people stop and compliment how adorable &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; was, one lady even waved her friend over saying "come look how adorable this little baby is, she has the cutest cheeks EVER!". Many engaged me in conversation, asking the usual questions like "How old?" etc. It was a really great change of pace from what I usually &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt; here in my hometown. Some strangers compliment her, but for the most part, I get glares. I find it extremely odd that the new town was so warm and kind, while here in my hometown I am constantly made to feel like a screw up. I want to go there more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-3566864614685195296?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/3566864614685195296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=3566864614685195296' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3566864614685195296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/3566864614685195296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/glare-city.html' title='Glare City'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-8139899514807298065</id><published>2008-04-18T22:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T22:52:46.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep Issues</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAmIhhO08FI/AAAAAAAAADk/RV6-IOsuy_A/s1600-h/march+08+170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190830154958827602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAmIhhO08FI/AAAAAAAAADk/RV6-IOsuy_A/s200/march+08+170.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At night, considering Telesas age, I'm very happy with how she sleeps. Shes in bed and asleep by 7, and usually doesn't wake up until around 7. She eats three or four times during the night, but the joy of co-sleeping and breastfeeding is that either of us have to fully wake up, sometimes I fall asleep while shes eating! Sometimes its because shes hungry, sometimes its for the comfort, either way, I don't mind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I have no complaints for her night time sleeping, I prepared myself for much worse. What I find extremely difficult is her daytime sleeping! Babies her age need at least TWO naps, from one to two hours and sometimes more. Telesa is so hard to get to nap, she fights it so hard, even when shes yawning and rubbing her eyes. When she finally does nap, its usually cat naps and only while I'm feeding and holding her. Take either away she wakes up mad. I don't feel comfortable with the cry-it-out method, as I am an attachment style parent, so I'm looking for alternatives to help her nap regularly so I'm not pulling my hair out trying to get a fussy baby to take her afternoon nap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please tell me I'm not the only one? Other mamas, how do your babies nap? and if you say good you better tell me your secret!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-8139899514807298065?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/8139899514807298065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=8139899514807298065' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8139899514807298065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8139899514807298065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/sleep-issues.html' title='Sleep Issues'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAmIhhO08FI/AAAAAAAAADk/RV6-IOsuy_A/s72-c/march+08+170.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-107500546818608619</id><published>2008-04-15T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T22:21:16.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nick Names</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; has a pretty long name, most three syllable names need to be shortened into an appropriate nickname. Recently, I've had some people call her "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Telese&lt;/span&gt;"...... I'm sorry but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; not her name and a terrible nickname. I just don't like the sound of it at all and don't want people calling her that for short. When shes older she can decide what nicknames she likes and doesn't like, but for now I'm saying no to "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Telese&lt;/span&gt;" and I need to come up with something better. I am in love with the name "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tila&lt;/span&gt;" (TEA-LA), which is very similar to "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt;", just minus the "-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ese&lt;/span&gt;-" sound :) So I'm loving &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Tila&lt;/span&gt; as a nickname! Someone suggested just "T", which is cute but better suited for when shes older. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; all I got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions? What do you think of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Tila&lt;/span&gt;"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-107500546818608619?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/107500546818608619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=107500546818608619' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/107500546818608619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/107500546818608619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/nick-names.html' title='Nick Names'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-8739288156486347401</id><published>2008-04-15T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T20:04:46.865-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-8739288156486347401?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/8739288156486347401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=8739288156486347401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8739288156486347401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8739288156486347401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/it-just-felt-selfish.html' title=''/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-5681261001251216833</id><published>2008-04-14T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T19:00:28.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abort, Abortion</title><content type='html'>For the first couple of weeks after finding out I was pregnant, I'm ashamed to say I was planning on aborting. I had an ultrasound and two consultations with the abortions doctor in town. When we were making the appointment to get the abortion, he could tell I was very hesitant about it, and said he didn't want to make the appointment until I was 100% sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always thought I could get an abortion without a second thought. I used protection but I was never extremely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;adamant&lt;/span&gt; about it because I truly believed that if faced with that decision I would have no problem aborting. In my mind it was just a peanut shaped thing, not a baby and therefore not murder. I didn't understand why there were teens having babies, I didn't understand why they didn't just get an abortion and move on with their lives. Why would they have the baby if they can just get rid of it and pretend it never happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand now. I didn't realize how attached to this potential life I would become. This little peanut sized thing in me wasn't just a "thing" at all, it was a potential life, it will be a living, breathing, human being. It will be my baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thought of killing my potential baby just didn't sit right with me, not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;at&lt;/span&gt; all. It was eating me up inside and I didn't even do it yet. I pictured myself in the future, crying, and regretting an abortion because the thought of what could have been was so strong. I didn't realize how hard the decision of what to do with an unplanned pregnancy was until it was actually happening to me. I didn't know I was so morally against abortions. I am pro-choice and if other women choose to that is their decision but I myself could not for it broke my heart just thinking about it. I read a quote yesterday that really hit home for me, it said "God bless all the mamas abundantly….&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;especially&lt;/span&gt; those who choose not to become mamas…may they realize within their hearts that they are mamas still, and their babies wait for them in heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized I was in love with my baby-to-be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I'm only sixteen!" I thought, "Am I ready to be a mother yet?" This left Adoption, or keeping the baby. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; another post, another day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-5681261001251216833?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/5681261001251216833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=5681261001251216833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5681261001251216833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5681261001251216833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/abort-abortion.html' title='Abort, Abortion'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4330275259734841772</id><published>2008-04-13T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T15:12:57.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Motherhood My Fellow YP</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAKErxO08DI/AAAAAAAAAC0/CFI3xbBVfMM/s1600-h/april+new+059+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188855608169001010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAKErxO08DI/AAAAAAAAAC0/CFI3xbBVfMM/s200/april+new+059+copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A big congratulations to my friend Robin, also 17, on the birth of her baby boy, Andrew, named after his father. He was born into the world yesterday, April 12, at 8:15 pm, weighing 9lbs 8 oz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Robin is yet another example to prove my point: young moms are good moms! She was going to school before Andrew was born, despite her big belly. Next year we'll be in school together, and our babies will be having fun at daycare. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have known Robin for many years, we went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;kindergarten&lt;/span&gt; together. So I can say without a doubt she will be an amazing mother giving other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;YP's&lt;/span&gt; like myself a good name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188856007600959554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAKFDBO08EI/AAAAAAAAAC8/MTeuG3wojaw/s200/april+new+061.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Congratulations again Robin, he is such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;handsome&lt;/span&gt; little man and I am so excited for you. Whens the baby shower? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Here's&lt;/span&gt; my chance to actually buy for a BOY for once! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;he he&lt;/span&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/1839625998166393564-4330275259734841772?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4330275259734841772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4330275259734841772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4330275259734841772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4330275259734841772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/welcome-to-motherhood-my-fellow-yp.html' title='Welcome to Motherhood My Fellow YP'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAKErxO08DI/AAAAAAAAAC0/CFI3xbBVfMM/s72-c/april+new+059+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-8624775385663197661</id><published>2008-04-13T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T10:18:43.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Than Any Cup of Coffee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAI_gxO08CI/AAAAAAAAACs/UqyUR2CNmxc/s1600-h/april+144.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188779552888123426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAI_gxO08CI/AAAAAAAAACs/UqyUR2CNmxc/s200/april+144.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning, I felt a tiny hand grabbing at my mouth. I open my eyes to see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; staring at me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Goooood&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;morrrrrning&lt;/span&gt;, beautiful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;giiiirl&lt;/span&gt;" I said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Her face lit right up, her two teeth showing, her eyes went small like mine do. I looked at her and thought "Wow, I'm just so lucky to have you in my life". I can't think of a better way to start my day, the first thing I see upon waking up is my daughters smiling face. I love her so much it hurts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried to get a picture of her like this, smiling big and looking at me, but the picture didn't give the same effect I felt, which is what I was going for. So instead of posting that picture I will post a picture I took yesterday of her sitting up. She is starting to sit up for longer and longer periods! I'm so proud, yesterday I think her longest was 12 seconds!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-8624775385663197661?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/8624775385663197661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=8624775385663197661' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8624775385663197661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/8624775385663197661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/better-than-any-cup-of-coffee.html' title='Better Than Any Cup of Coffee'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SAI_gxO08CI/AAAAAAAAACs/UqyUR2CNmxc/s72-c/april+144.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-6110837229522923883</id><published>2008-04-12T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T10:34:36.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding Out I Was Pregnant</title><content type='html'>I was feeling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nausea's&lt;/span&gt; a lot, and then I missed my first period. That wouldn't be the first time, so I assumed it was stress. I started puking after eating certain foods, and everyday it was getting harder to ignore what I already knew. I didn't find out I was for sure pregnant until I was 10 weeks along, but I knew deep down since I was 5 weeks but I was in denial and I guess felt like if I didn't get tested it wasn't real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the walk-in clinic alone, I don't know why, stupid move on my part. As I was sitting in the waiting room I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; Sarah who was working at the time telling her how nervous I was. After telling the doctor my situation, I peed in a little cup and gave it to the nurse for testing and went back into the doctors office to wait for the results. I'm not sure how long it actually took but it felt like way to long. There were so many things rushing through my head, I was trying to stay calm telling myself "don't get yourself worked up over something that isn't even for sure yet!" but I couldn't help it. Up until that point, that mantra was getting me by sanely, but while I was waiting for the results my head felt like it was going to explode of an overload.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, when the doctor came in he seemed like everything was fine and for a moment I thought he was going to tell me I wasn't pregnant. He sat down and looked at the computer, saying,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, it was positive. Your pregnant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wouldn't make eye contact when he first told me, and I was in shock and disbelief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure?" I asked, about to lose my last shred of hope. Maybe he was joking, a cruel and twisted joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I'm sure. Do you know what your going to do?" he asked with such calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"YES! I'm going to get an abortion obviously. I can't have a baby right now I'm 16, I'm not ready to be a mom!" I said right away, like he even had to ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really thought I was and could. He booked an ultrasound, you need one to confirm how far along you are in order to get an abortion. I somehow managed not to cry, in fact I was quite calm considering I was just given news that would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;irrevocably&lt;/span&gt; change my life forever. I headed to Superstore, to buy things as a distraction. I walked home alone thinking "This can't be true. This can't be happening to ME!". Oh, but it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called Sarah once I was home, I was fine up until that point, but something about saying it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;out loud&lt;/span&gt; made it really hit me, and I started to cry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;uncontrollably&lt;/span&gt;. I was so scared and unsure of what to do. I felt so stupid for letting it happen, I just didn't think something like that could ever happen to me. Like I was some kind of invincible bullet. I couldn't be more wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all for now. I will talk about how I came to the decision to keep the baby in future posts, as well as other emotions I was going through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-6110837229522923883?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/6110837229522923883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=6110837229522923883' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6110837229522923883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6110837229522923883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/finding-out-i-was-pregnant.html' title='Finding Out I Was Pregnant'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-7111815370731396848</id><published>2008-04-12T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T09:09:51.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Fab Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SADeyVKKW4I/AAAAAAAAACY/zBmXEa-we94/s1600-h/atonement500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188391726985403266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SADeyVKKW4I/AAAAAAAAACY/zBmXEa-we94/s200/atonement500.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I actually did something on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt; night! While most people my age were probably drinking, doing some drugs, or any of the other crazy stuff teenagers do nowadays, I was having a quiet night with a *shock* friend! Yes, I still have friends after becoming a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;YP&lt;/span&gt;, granted very few, but hey its quality not quantity and I have the best friends in the world they proved that to me by sticking around, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; a different post entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Telesas&lt;/span&gt; bedtime is 7, meaning I usually start getting everything ready for bed by 6, so after school that doesn't leave much room for friends. Since starting her bedtime routine sometime in January, I did everything during the day and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; the only time I hung out with friends. Last night however, was the first night I actually did something other than surf the net on my laptop. I got everything ready for bed as usual, and rather than put &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; to sleep in bed with me (yes we co-sleep), I brought the blanket into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;front room&lt;/span&gt; and she fell asleep out there while me and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Richelle&lt;/span&gt; watched 'Atonement'. I had a lot of fun, it was nice just hanging out and was a much needed break. I want to start doing things like this more often!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. 'Atonement' was an excellent movie, I loved it and highly recommend you see it if you already &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-7111815370731396848?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/7111815370731396848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=7111815370731396848' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7111815370731396848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7111815370731396848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-fab-friday.html' title='My Fab Friday'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/SADeyVKKW4I/AAAAAAAAACY/zBmXEa-we94/s72-c/atonement500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-7853466458795962116</id><published>2008-04-10T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T13:29:52.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Homemade Baby Food</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_54p1KKW3I/AAAAAAAAACQ/V0XkEOX1L1s/s1600-h/march+08+261.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187716480817060722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_54p1KKW3I/AAAAAAAAACQ/V0XkEOX1L1s/s200/march+08+261.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love making homemade babyfood. It is so easy and cheap I don't understand why anyone has to buy babyfood!! Sure, the jarred stuff is more convienent but for me totally not worth it in the end. I love how I can pick the freshest, highest quality food for my daughters purees and then thin it with breastmilk! You can't get any healthier than that! Plus the idea of food sitting in a jar for I don't even know how long, plus the added preservatives, are a mayjor turn off for me. I don't give my daughter anything I wouldn't eat personally, and I just think homemade baby food has that extra ingrediant no commercial food can ever have: LOVE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I simply cook the food, puree it with breastmilk, put the puree in ice cube trays, and when thier frozen put them in bags. Cheap, easy, healthy, delicious, do you need another reason? It doesn't take a lot of time either, just do it all in bulk one day and your set for awhile! If your interested, don't waste your money on a book, I highly recommend you check out: &lt;a href="http://www.wholesomebabyfood.com/"&gt;http://www.wholesomebabyfood.com/&lt;/a&gt; because it has EVERYTHING you need to know about babys and homemade food including what age to introduce what, tips and tricks, and coutless recipes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-7853466458795962116?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/7853466458795962116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=7853466458795962116' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7853466458795962116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7853466458795962116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/homemade-baby-food.html' title='Homemade Baby Food'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_54p1KKW3I/AAAAAAAAACQ/V0XkEOX1L1s/s72-c/march+08+261.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-6955130764806688739</id><published>2008-04-09T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T10:25:56.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fast Track</title><content type='html'>This is for people who don't know me or my situation to hear a nutshell version so you understand my posts a little better:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Ellie, and when I was 16 in grade 11 I found out I was pregnant. I turned 17 on July 28, 2007, and delivered my daughter, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt;, on September 17, 2007. My best friend and my daughters godmother is Sarah, and I could not have done this with out her. I am single but with Sarah I don't feel like I am alone, she took me to every doctors appointment, and held my hand through the labour of my daughter, she even cut the cord. She is currently in Mexico &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;volunteering&lt;/span&gt; at an orphanage and works with special needs &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;children&lt;/span&gt;. She will be back sometime around F&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;eburay&lt;/span&gt; 2008, I can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live with my mom and step dad, and I plan to move out once I am finished school. My mom is a great support system, and she loves &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; dearly. I am currently going back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt;, planning to graduate with the class of 2009! There is a daycare on the school grounds, which is so great, I love it because I see my daughter a lot throughout the day. I am currently in the flex program, its kind of like homeschooling but you do the work in class and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; a teacher. I started out with the flex program so that I can always see my daughter at a moments notice, and be able to care for her if she falls ill without having to fall behind the class. In September 2008 I plan to start taking regular classes and flex classes. After I graduate, I plan to go to college or university, but I am still deciding my field of study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my daughter with all my heart and soul and feel truly blessed with this little miracle I have created. It is very hard being a young mom but I am a stronger person because of it and it is the most rewarding thing in the planet watching my daughter grow before my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;About This Blog&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started my blog for numourous reasons. The first reason is for me. An outlet to express my feelings and explore my creative side, and to write it all down for memories sake. This is my version of a "journal" or "diary". Another big reason is in hopes to reach other young moms going through similar struggles to read my posts and draw comfort in knowing their not alone, and hopefully get hope, inspiration, and learn from my lessons, among other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I am disgusted in the way media potrays young motherhood and am saddened by the way society views teenage parents. I am in no way glamourizing teenage pregnancy as this is not an ideal situation but we should not be judged based on the assumption that all young moms are bad moms. I want to prove to everybody who has ever judged young moms wrong, in that we are loving, caring, parents, willing to do whatever it takes to provide a good life for our children. Meaning going back to school and getting an education, working hard and striving to be the best parents we can be and ignoring people who judge and give looks or comments before they even know the situation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-6955130764806688739?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/6955130764806688739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=6955130764806688739' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6955130764806688739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6955130764806688739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/fast-track.html' title='Fast Track'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-6520547326441688</id><published>2008-04-07T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T18:23:49.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good day at daycare, things are looking up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_r2VrdMUTI/AAAAAAAAACI/zJREjFrsn98/s1600-h/march+08+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186728773173399858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_r2VrdMUTI/AAAAAAAAACI/zJREjFrsn98/s200/march+08+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Telesa had a really good day in daycare today! Her primary said she didn't fuss once, this is major progress people! I managed to finish a mayjor test today for Earth Science, it was one big test of the four units I just did. I didn't have time to wait for it to be marked, I just finished and went straight to the daycare, but I'm sure I did good, I studied hard!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've decided I'm going to teach Telesa sign language, just simple ones so we can communicate better before she can speak. It seems really helpful, babies can learn to sign before they are capable of speaking, so this is a great way for her to tell me whats wrong without crying! I'll start as soon as I'm finished reading a book on it, I just started one today. She probably won't actually sign until shes a little bit older but you better believe I'll be posting it when she does!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-6520547326441688?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/6520547326441688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=6520547326441688' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6520547326441688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/6520547326441688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/telesa-had-really-good-day-in-daycare.html' title='Good day at daycare, things are looking up!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_r2VrdMUTI/AAAAAAAAACI/zJREjFrsn98/s72-c/march+08+019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-7614856410504250954</id><published>2008-04-05T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T11:56:11.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Baby Step for High School Students with Babies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fKQrdMURI/AAAAAAAAAB4/c-sFWTU2jAw/s1600-h/DSC_0055.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185835883832299794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fKQrdMURI/AAAAAAAAAB4/c-sFWTU2jAw/s200/DSC_0055.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For this years school yearbook, I have convinced the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;committee&lt;/span&gt; to have a "Young Parents Continuing Education" page! I am so excited!! Finally, the young moms are being recognized for their hard work and determination. It's hard enough going to school, there are way to many drop-outs, and it's so much harder with a baby. We go for the best interest of our child, we go to succeed, and to prove everyone who doubted us wrong. Hopefully we are one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;step&lt;/span&gt; closer in proving that young moms are not trash, but in fact strong and determined woman willing to do whatever it takes for our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;children&lt;/span&gt; to have a good life. Sure, there are some bad apples, but the same is true for any age and people need to realize that. Not all young moms drop out of school and live off the government, many of us are making lives for us and our children. One year book page is very little, but it's about baby steps, and I hope one day young moms are no longer judged or looked down upon, and instead admired not for their choices but for taking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;responsibility&lt;/span&gt;. If your a young mom reading this and are going back to school, suggest this to your yearbook &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;committee&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-7614856410504250954?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/7614856410504250954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=7614856410504250954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7614856410504250954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/7614856410504250954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/baby-step-for-high-school-students-with.html' title='A Baby Step for High School Students with Babies'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fKQrdMURI/AAAAAAAAAB4/c-sFWTU2jAw/s72-c/DSC_0055.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-667676625357060900</id><published>2008-04-03T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T21:00:40.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Milestone Your Not Excited About (OK, Maybe a Little)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_WnA7dMUQI/AAAAAAAAABw/Rfz4eqbmhEg/s1600-h/march+08+039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185234180388966658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_WnA7dMUQI/AAAAAAAAABw/Rfz4eqbmhEg/s200/march+08+039.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; had her first solid poop today. Yep, after months of runny-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;breast milk&lt;/span&gt;-poop she now had a solid, solid-food-poop poop. After my first initial shock and panic, I realized it's because I started her on baby food, I guess it only makes sense right. For the people reading &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; who don't have children, your probably wondering why on Earth I would post this I mean &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;EWWW&lt;/span&gt; right? Moms, you know why, but for those who don't I'll fill you in: when you have a baby there will be many poop conversations and nothing will phase you anymore. Moms talking about poop is no different than talking about the weather, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; just so many things to discuss about it! Its funny, before I had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt;, I NEVER talked about poo, I didn't even call it poo I called it "# 2" but now I have story after story of poo from the mildly gross to the absolute grotesque, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; another post entirely. In the day care she goes to, they have daily poo conversations, it's pretty funny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also went through the clothes that are to big for her to see what she can wear soon, and to my shock she fit a majority of it already or would fit it very soon! I couldn't believe it!! When did my baby girl get so big? The clothes are in the wash now, and tomorrow its SORT, SORT, SORT! She's so spoiled already and she doesn't even know it!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-667676625357060900?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/667676625357060900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=667676625357060900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/667676625357060900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/667676625357060900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/telesa-had-her-first-solid-poop-today.html' title='The Milestone Your Not Excited About (OK, Maybe a Little)'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_WnA7dMUQI/AAAAAAAAABw/Rfz4eqbmhEg/s72-c/march+08+039.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-507943978310836880</id><published>2008-04-01T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T15:20:38.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E-I-E-I-Ohhh I don't know!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_K1DrdMUPI/AAAAAAAAABo/2qLoek6vFwk/s1600-h/march+08+116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184405195866263794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_K1DrdMUPI/AAAAAAAAABo/2qLoek6vFwk/s200/march+08+116.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My daughters name is pronounced: TELL-lease-UH, and originally I was going to spell it: Telisa, but when I got a card that spelt it: Telesa, I changed my mind. I still love it, but it's a huge annoyence when people pronounce it TUH-less-UH, what kind of a name is that? Not pretty at all! I'm almost insulted when people pronounce it that way, I'm worried about when she starts school or does anything really where people have to read her name especially during attendance or something and techer goes "TUH-LESS-A?", ohh my poor daughter what have I done to you! So now I'm thinking of changing the spelling back to "Telisa", before it's to late, and it wouldn't cost to much. But even then, people might pronounce it "TUH-liss-UH"... can I ever win? just once please?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-507943978310836880?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/507943978310836880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=507943978310836880' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/507943978310836880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/507943978310836880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/04/e-i-e-i-ohhh-i-dont-know.html' title='E-I-E-I-Ohhh I don&apos;t know!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_K1DrdMUPI/AAAAAAAAABo/2qLoek6vFwk/s72-c/march+08+116.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4767056624674189389</id><published>2008-03-31T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T15:54:49.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring break: what break?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_FrrrdMUNI/AAAAAAAAABY/OA9HkNONxbk/s1600-h/january+20+106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184043044223865042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_FrrrdMUNI/AAAAAAAAABY/OA9HkNONxbk/s200/january+20+106.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was the first day back at school from Spring break. It was nice not to have to go to school everyday, but for some reason I feel more exhasuted now than I did before we even had the break. It might be the fact my daughter started teething, or maybe that her birth father is now demanding a paternity test and stressing me out more than ever, or my lack of sleep or a combination of everything. Either way, I'm having a hard time getting back to my school routine. Right before Spring break I had finally gotten used to when to go to bed, getting up early and getting me and Telesa ready. Telesa was doing great too, Before I started school she would stay up all hours of the night and sleep until noon, but once I started going to school and getting her up at seven, she started going to bed at seven, and thus a bedtime routine was born: try the bottle at 6 (failed everytime), bath at 6:30, and in pj's and bed being nursed to sleep by seven. It was great, not as hard as I thought it would be atleast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spring break threw us off, I was determined to stick to the routine and I did for the most part, but slowly over the break it turned into bed by 8 ish and up at around 8:30 ish. Which didn't seem like a big deal at the time, but last night I tried to put her to asleep by 7 and she stayed up until 9, and was up at 7, so she was a little fussier than usual at daycare today. Hopefully we'll get into the grove of things soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As far as school is going, I'm doing really good! I have 6/16 units done in Earth science finished and I am half way done the 7th. For English, it's a little hard to say but I am abour half way through! Considering I spend more time in the daycare feeding Telesa than I do in school, I think I'm doing great, I may not be able to be in class much but when I am, I WORK HARD! Telesa is starting solids and is getting more used to the daycare, so I really think I can finish my goals for the semester and maybe start a new course!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-4767056624674189389?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4767056624674189389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4767056624674189389' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4767056624674189389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4767056624674189389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/03/spring-break-what-break.html' title='Spring break: what break?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_FrrrdMUNI/AAAAAAAAABY/OA9HkNONxbk/s72-c/january+20+106.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-4841431303588163056</id><published>2008-03-30T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T19:32:58.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your HOW old?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_BNMrdMUMI/AAAAAAAAABQ/gpL6mlywJmY/s1600-h/jan+14+08+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183728051322376386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_BNMrdMUMI/AAAAAAAAABQ/gpL6mlywJmY/s200/jan+14+08+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look in the mirror and I see a 17 year old, 19 if I do my make up right, but I don't FEEL 17, not even close. Granted, I don't know what its like, but I feel atleast 25, in my mind atleast. I find I don't get along with many people my age, their fun to hang out with but I don't really connect with any of them, we're to different, we have different priorities. I have way more fun hanging out with my Aunties who are in their 30's, they have babies too, and it's fun to get the girls together. I like it because we have a lot in common, and I don't feel embarassed to breastfeed in front of them or feel like I'm "lame" because I go to bed by seven. I like this new me, I actually care about school and I am trying my best, although it is hard to get much done with a baby who breastfeeds and doesn't take the bottle (yeah, I'm at the on-site daycare more than I'm in school usually lol). I'm not even that interested in the guys my age anymore, their great to look at but I can't see me actually dating them, men mature even slower than girls and for a girl who is maturing at warp speed, well, thats just not a good mix. Especially since most guys I know, their main priority is getting drunk on the weekend or getting high all the time, NOT my kind of guy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-4841431303588163056?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/4841431303588163056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=4841431303588163056' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4841431303588163056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/4841431303588163056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/03/he-who-is-without-sin-cast-first-stone.html' title='Your HOW old?'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_BNMrdMUMI/AAAAAAAAABQ/gpL6mlywJmY/s72-c/jan+14+08+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-5282833960451939072</id><published>2008-03-29T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T21:47:51.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Combi 3-in-1 Walker!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R-8UdbdMUKI/AAAAAAAAABA/rGCjdVPurUM/s1600-h/walker%2520pink.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183384191945691298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px" height="250" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R-8UdbdMUKI/AAAAAAAAABA/rGCjdVPurUM/s320/walker%2520pink.jpg" width="266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OMIGOSH&lt;/span&gt;!! I want it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; bad! Angela (my boss) told me about it today and now I am obsessed, except the only catch is that &lt;a href="http://www.babycenter.ca/baby/safety/babywalkerexpert/"&gt;walkers are illegal in Canada&lt;/a&gt;. Me being the kind of person who wants things they can't have, is now determined to get this walker for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Telesa&lt;/span&gt; and to be the envy of all babies walker-less.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously though, this has got to be the most cool product on the market, its a CAR! &amp;amp; did I mention is comes in pink? I'm very jealous of all you Americans who can just walk into a store and buy it while I sit here in Canada trying to devise a plan to get it here without being caught. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Here's&lt;/span&gt; a description of it:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Colorful automotive theme for playful, stimulating experience; Retractable seat for walking function; Removable hood for access to snack and play tray; Adjustable footrest for multiple play modes; Lights and Sound in footrest for interactive foot play; Steering wheel turns and features lights and sound; Anti-skid pads on bottom for child's safety; Handles to aid walking child; Play mirror for child's enjoyment; Lockable bounce feature; Easy to clean fabric seating surface."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basically the best toy ever, the object of my desire, need I say more? To get the full effect visit the &lt;a href="http://www.combi-intl.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Combi&lt;/span&gt; site&lt;/a&gt; and look for it, its easy to find, and watch the demonstrative video and you'll see what I mean. My parents are going to Vegas in June so I'm thinking I can get them to get it when their down there, we'll see... I'll keep you posted :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the mean time I'll think about how sad I am that I don't have it, do any of you have it? What do you think of it? If you don't have it, is it because your like me living in Canada or are you against them for safety reasons?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-5282833960451939072?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/5282833960451939072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=5282833960451939072' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5282833960451939072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/5282833960451939072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/03/combi-3-in-1-walker.html' title='Combi 3-in-1 Walker!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R-8UdbdMUKI/AAAAAAAAABA/rGCjdVPurUM/s72-c/walker%2520pink.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1839625998166393564.post-1624740534717302984</id><published>2008-03-29T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T20:14:53.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby on Board</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R-8FmrdMUJI/AAAAAAAAAA4/PmUZAPBA2YA/s1600-h/Clippasafe_baby_on_board_sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183367858185064594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R-8FmrdMUJI/AAAAAAAAAA4/PmUZAPBA2YA/s320/Clippasafe_baby_on_board_sign.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yay, my first blog post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired, not gunna lie. Telesa is teething, poor girl, and poor mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was driving, and some A-hole was tailgating me. One: tailgating does nothing but stress out the driver, and TWO (and most importantly): DO YOU NOT SEE THE 'BABY ON BOARD' SIGN! He was so close how could he not? I just can't believe some people, sorry for driving the speed limit with my baby in the car, and sorry I don't want to speed and put both our lives at risk so you can get to wherever your going a little faster.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other than that, and a few other occassions, most people are pretty respectful of the 'Baby on Board' sign. My friend was telling, whenever she sees one she stays faaaaaaar away, because she doesn't want to be "the person who killed the baby". LOL, funny but true, I agree completely. I don't know if my "N" is a plus or a negative, hard to say because I got my "N" after I had Telesa. I'd hope it encourage drivers to drive extra extra cautiously around me, but for some it might be like "Oh they have their "N", lets be dicks". I don't know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have any of you guys experianced an A-hole driver with the 'Baby on Board' sign clearly in place? Do you think the sign helps at all? Or is it more of a cute thing to do than a safety thing?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1839625998166393564-1624740534717302984?l=proudyp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/feeds/1624740534717302984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1839625998166393564&amp;postID=1624740534717302984' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1624740534717302984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1839625998166393564/posts/default/1624740534717302984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://proudyp.blogspot.com/2008/03/saturday-march-29.html' title='Baby on Board'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14691118402180823048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R_fuZbdMUSI/AAAAAAAAACA/O7fvL5YKCXg/S220/march+08+146.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aafL2C7dVcU/R-8FmrdMUJI/AAAAAAAAAA4/PmUZAPBA2YA/s72-c/Clippasafe_baby_on_board_sign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
