<?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-3802531612902499692</id><updated>2012-02-05T21:12:23.429-05:00</updated><category term='love'/><category term='I'/><category term='vacations'/><category term='good for the soul'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>Jennie's Corner</title><subtitle type='html'>A peak inside my mind...and on occasion, my soul.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>74</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5490918753396641321</id><published>2010-10-07T22:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T22:49:55.364-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Year in 140 Words....or less</title><content type='html'>Twitter makes you write your status in 140 characters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure if I can convey the importance of this very second in my life on twitter in under 140 characters, I can summarize the past 11 months in 140 words. Perhaps I should wordle this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New. Nuts. Exciting. Exhausting. Brain-stretching. Brain-numbing. Awesome. ARGH-inducing. Character-building. Character re-building. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya know, a normal year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed writing. I will do more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5490918753396641321?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5490918753396641321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5490918753396641321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5490918753396641321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5490918753396641321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2010/10/year-in-140-wordsor-less.html' title='Year in 140 Words....or less'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-7555830274972825481</id><published>2009-11-16T21:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T21:38:20.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NaBloPoMo No Mo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.nablopomo.com/"&gt;NaBloPoMo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't do it. Well, I CAN do it.  &lt;br /&gt;But I don't want to. Posting everyday for a month? Even I am not narcissistic enough to believe I have something worth reading to say everyday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What this little experiment has taught me is that I really do need to write more. I enjoy it. &lt;br /&gt;It has also taught me that I am not sure I care to blog anymore. I find writing to be a good release and I am always surprised that when I sit to blog with nothing to say it is hard to shut me up. But I don't like that I find it impossible to write 100% freely. I write knowing that there's a chance it might be read. And because of that, I don't write what I need to write. When writing, I sort out the cobwebs and icky bits in my mind. I can't fully do that with an audience. Because I don't want to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I am going to try to keep writing for the rest of the month, but not on this blog. Somewhere private. And I will see how that feels. I will be back. Just not daily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you made it to mid-november. Thanks for listening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-7555830274972825481?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/7555830274972825481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=7555830274972825481' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7555830274972825481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7555830274972825481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/nablopomo-no-mo.html' title='NaBloPoMo No Mo'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8613104201744388613</id><published>2009-11-12T22:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T10:58:47.509-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahhhhhh CHOO!!</title><content type='html'>Gesundheit. Healthiness, in German. Auf Deutsche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am longing for a house of wellness.&lt;br /&gt;Over the past few weeks (ok, 2 months) we have been passing around colds, coughs, pink eye, snot snot and more snot. I am sick of being sick. And we are fortunate that for now, we are only dealing with colds. Other families are quarantined with H1N1, which while mostly mild, affects some people quite harshly, and scarily, and seems to still be a bit of a mystery to the medical community regarding who it will hit hard, and why. And so, because of that lack of predictability, we bit the bullet and got Soph "The Shot". No dramatic 6 hr lines ups, no spiking fevers afterwards. In fact, it was fairly uneventful. Yet, it was one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make, and I still question ( and will for some time ) whether it was the best decision. But as a parent, sometimes you have to make a call. There were risks with getting the shot. Very very small risk of potentially scary side effects. And risk with not getting it. Again, minor risk of catching H1N1 and having it go badly. I am not someone to blindly follow the advice of the medical community but in the end, I had to allow the advice of my doctor tip the scale. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may as well get used to a lifetime of questioning all my decisions ;)&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, it just comes down to gut. And sometimes, we will get it wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-8613104201744388613?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8613104201744388613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8613104201744388613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8613104201744388613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8613104201744388613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/ahhhhhh-choo.html' title='Ahhhhhh CHOO!!'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-7149007800708589908</id><published>2009-11-11T11:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T12:03:12.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Movin' my Caboose</title><content type='html'>Well, age seems to be slowing my metabolism lately, because either my dryer is shrinking all my clothes, or I am going through a horizontal growth spurt. Oy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was inevitable. A summer of good (read, yummy) eating and drinking had to catch up with me eventually. My lost poundage found me. Blerg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, instead of whining and beating myself up, I have to up my training and reduce my intake. Garbage in garbage out. I picked up a new treadmill as a gift to myself and as a supplement to my Greco workouts. No, not Greco Wrestling. I got up this morning in time to kick the rooster in the arse, hopped on my treadmill while watching the local news. This set the tone for the day so nicely that I just might do it again tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-7149007800708589908?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/7149007800708589908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=7149007800708589908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7149007800708589908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7149007800708589908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/movin-my-caboose.html' title='Movin&apos; my Caboose'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8080437766764175829</id><published>2009-11-11T09:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T09:49:49.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreaming of Dildo</title><content type='html'>Not what you think!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a dream last night that we were building a house near the ocean, overlooking it actually. It was very vivid and real. And I was leaving for work and was going to "drop Sophie off at Mom's and Dad's place" on my way. I woke up feeling so mellow and relaxed. Not something I experience a lot of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I have been feeling a little isolated from family. With all the illnesses in our house over the past couple of months, I have said many many times, "Geez, I wish Mom were here". I guess there's something to that old "I want my mommy" thing when we are feeling sick and overwhelmed. Sure the help would be great. And yeah we could definitely handle a night out....together. But more than that it would be nice to be able to easily connect with our loved ones, and share little Boo with them more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it is just the impending holiday season that is making me all mushy. Or maybe it's the drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-8080437766764175829?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8080437766764175829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8080437766764175829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8080437766764175829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8080437766764175829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/dreaming-of-dildo.html' title='Dreaming of Dildo'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5232032115402090925</id><published>2009-11-09T08:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T09:07:05.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Connecting</title><content type='html'>I would apologize for not posting over the weekend, but I was busy enjoying my little Boo. So nope, no apology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a beautiful weekend I had. This was the first time I had more than a few hours alone with Sophie.&lt;br /&gt;While I was nervous that it would be exhausting and that I would be ready to put her on ebay by the end of the weekend, it was energizing and I felt more connected to her than I ever have. It was interesting being her "go to" person. Because she is such a daddy's girl, I think it has been easy for me to almost play a back-up role when it comes to some aspects of her raising, especially on an emotional level. But this weekend, I was it. I was all she had. And while I wondered if she would feel a little lost and really miss her daddy, she really seemed to engage with me and we totally soaked each other in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having said all this, we were very excited to go to the airport yesterday to give daddy a surprise welcome home. He was so overwhelmed to see his little Boo...and his big Boo too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5232032115402090925?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5232032115402090925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5232032115402090925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5232032115402090925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5232032115402090925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/missed-postor-2.html' title='Connecting'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-1034004411802811652</id><published>2009-11-06T23:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T17:27:55.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jennie-Day is Over....</title><content type='html'>....and it was superb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have minimal time to write because Sophie is waking quite a bit tonight with a cough, but here's the very condensed play-by-play of my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- got up far too early. time change. boo&lt;br /&gt;- fed and dressed Sophie and brought her to daycare&lt;br /&gt;- came home and enjoyed a leisurely healthy breakfast and 2 cups of hot coffee&lt;br /&gt;- went shopping and bought some lovely accessories, a new dressy vest (new job, later post), and a cozy sweater&lt;br /&gt;- met friend for lunch at awesome little pub in the country&lt;br /&gt;- went back to her house to check out her treadmill&lt;br /&gt;- went shopping and bought treadmill&lt;br /&gt;- got coffee&lt;br /&gt;- got groceries&lt;br /&gt;- got Sophie&lt;br /&gt;- fed Sophie&lt;br /&gt;- played with Sophie&lt;br /&gt;- put Sophie to bed&lt;br /&gt;- drank wine and ate too much bread and cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-1034004411802811652?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/1034004411802811652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=1034004411802811652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1034004411802811652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1034004411802811652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/jennie-day-is-over.html' title='Jennie-Day is Over....'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5139269391654725523</id><published>2009-11-05T13:59:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T14:15:38.914-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good for the soul'/><title type='text'>A Day of One's Own</title><content type='html'>I am taking a me day.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how deserved it is, but I do know how needed it is.&lt;br /&gt;The past couple of weeks have been exhausting. Colds galore in the house. Pink eye. Sleepless nights. Crankiness (mostly me). So tomorrow, I declare Jennie Day. I have no idea how I plan to celebrate it. I don't want to think about it too much because something might keep it from happening and I don't want to spiral in despair from disappointment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Boo and I will be having a girls' weekend. I need to gear up for that. Lots of goldfish crackers. For her. Wine. For mommy. I also need rest...to prep for 2 days alone with a 2 year old who's wild and wrangy. By the time hubby gets back on Sunday, Boo and I might have each other's hair pulled out. But first, there's tomorrow. Sweet sweet Jennie Day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5139269391654725523?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5139269391654725523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5139269391654725523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5139269391654725523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5139269391654725523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-of-ones-own.html' title='A Day of One&apos;s Own'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-1787903326031293524</id><published>2009-11-04T21:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T13:59:15.214-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The No Post Post</title><content type='html'>I have nothing to say. Well, that probably isn't true, but I have nothing to say that I want to articulate tonight. So I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this count as a post. Probably not. Meh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-1787903326031293524?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/1787903326031293524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=1787903326031293524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1787903326031293524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1787903326031293524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-post-post.html' title='The No Post Post'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-2244097579038751393</id><published>2009-11-03T21:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T21:19:09.317-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Sobering of Death</title><content type='html'>My Hubby lost a friend today. Or rather, the dad of a dear friend. A man who felt like part of his chosen family growing up.&lt;br /&gt;Neither of us feels very emotionally equipped at dealing with death. It isn't something I talk about easily. He feels like he has had minimal practice lately. That's not a bad thing. But we are talking about it. And celebrating his friend's dad's life with a glass of fine scotch....reserved for special occasions. Hubby is off to his hometown this weekend to be there for the funeral, to support his good friend. He feels good about the decision to go, though I am sure the easier thing to do (short term) is to stay here and send condolences from afar. I sense a real peace with this decision. I am happy to be able to support him and glad he will be able to get a couple of days away from the day-to-day busyness of fatherhood in order to free his mind and his soul to grieve and remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-2244097579038751393?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/2244097579038751393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=2244097579038751393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2244097579038751393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2244097579038751393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/sobering-of-death.html' title='The Sobering of Death'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3449762891916383884</id><published>2009-11-02T11:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T09:28:31.432-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Are You Real?</title><content type='html'>I don't mean "real" as in pinocchio's "I am a a real boy!".&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel that the You you present to the world is really you, or a persona of you? Someone who you would rather project than the You you feel inside?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all have our days of projecting an image we would like the world to believe we are. More confident. Happier. Funnier. Cooler. More worldly. I call those the "dress for the job you want not the job you have" type of days. It is when that persona-wearing becomes a part of our everyday MO that it gets exhausting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to step back every now and then to make sure that my persona-wearing days are few. I like to think that I am pretty good at being who I am, rather than trying to convince you I am who I would like to be. Some days are better than others. Some days feel purely authentic. Other days I send a persona out into the universe and I keep the real me home in a jar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How are you doing today? Are you You? Or the persona you send out on days when you are just too tired to be You?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-3449762891916383884?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3449762891916383884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3449762891916383884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3449762891916383884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3449762891916383884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/are-you-real.html' title='Are You Real?'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-2555272456479939455</id><published>2009-11-01T10:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T09:17:00.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Test of Discipline</title><content type='html'>It is &lt;a href="http://www.nablopomo.com/"&gt;NaBloPoMo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;What does that mean? It means this delinquent chick is taking the challenge to post everyday....for a month. Given I don't even have 30 posts on this blog, I am not expecting to succeed, but it will be a lovely surprise if I make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try to write...even when I have nothing to say. Because sometimes, that's when I have my best moments. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, this counts as blog #1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-2555272456479939455?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/2555272456479939455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=2555272456479939455' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2555272456479939455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2555272456479939455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/11/test-of-discipline.html' title='A Test of Discipline'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8303537018622125596</id><published>2009-09-16T12:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T12:19:35.069-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ARGHHHHHHH!!!</title><content type='html'>ARGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;* beats head against wall&lt;br /&gt;ARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-8303537018622125596?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8303537018622125596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8303537018622125596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8303537018622125596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8303537018622125596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/09/arghhhhhhh.html' title='ARGHHHHHHH!!!'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5991748739758302558</id><published>2009-09-07T21:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T14:40:06.234-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Butterfly of the Social Sort</title><content type='html'>I am used to being a social butterfly. I love to plan gatherings, go out after work for beer with co-workers, cook big meals for a "slew" of people....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divorce made me retreat. Like a turtle in a shell. I felt the need to leave shared friends for my ex-husband. I also felt slightly reclusive, as though I needed to hide out for a while. To rediscover who I was. Who I could trust. Who wouldn't judge me. Then I had a baby. This flipped my world on its arse again. Being off on maternity leave for a year, while lovely for the relationship with my girl, left me feeling "out of sync" with work friends. I didn't connect that well with stay-at-home moms either, so I felt quite lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I feel like I am back in my groove. My friends are a mixed bag. Work, old, new, virtual....&lt;br /&gt;It feels good. I feel like Jennie again. The same, only different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5991748739758302558?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5991748739758302558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5991748739758302558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5991748739758302558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5991748739758302558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/09/butterfly-of-social-sort.html' title='A Butterfly of the Social Sort'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-2270759811788731887</id><published>2009-09-04T22:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T22:31:05.029-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Must Write....</title><content type='html'>.....Soon.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I promise that I will write this weekend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I blame nothing. Lazyarse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I have many things to write. And time to do it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But first, sleepies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-JL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-2270759811788731887?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/2270759811788731887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=2270759811788731887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2270759811788731887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2270759811788731887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/09/must-write.html' title='Must Write....'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-4625872704580647274</id><published>2009-08-07T16:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T16:34:44.159-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pain....again. Still.</title><content type='html'>Pain clouds all things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me angry. Which makes me hurt more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me cry. Which makes me hurt more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me obsessed. Which makes me hurt more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me cranky. Which makes everybody hurt more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days of no pain, feel like days of pure freedom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-4625872704580647274?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/4625872704580647274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=4625872704580647274' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4625872704580647274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4625872704580647274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/08/painagain-still.html' title='Pain....again. Still.'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-992432399060062618</id><published>2009-08-05T19:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T11:00:29.247-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On Renos and Balance</title><content type='html'>I visited a good friend's home for the first time a few weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;My initial feeling as I pulled into their neighborhood bursting with million dollar homes was fairly unfamiliar to me. Inferior. I am not used to that. I don't like it. And it isn't because I feel that people shouldn't have more or better than I do, but I don't like that in that moment I allowed "stuff" to make me feel small. That's not who I am. I was about to have a lovely dinner with good friends, share my darling girl with them, and partake in great laughter and conversation. Fortunately, the momentary inferiority complex was fleeting and excitement and openness entered in its place. Dinner, as was the company, was lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the fact that I no longer felt my worth overshadowed by my friend's beautiful home, I did find myself making mental notes for future upgrades and renos to my own simple home. Again, this past weekend, overcome with excitement of recent homeownership, I felt an overwhelming urge to "make our house better. cooler. fresher. more modern".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to be careful. I used to live this way. And quickly following any cool and fabulous purchase, the high would wear off quickly and I would be left feeling empty and would jump to the next upgradeable item in my life. This "sugar high and crash" of a lifestyle isn't a healthy one for me, nor is it fulfilling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This doesn't mean I don't give a crap about my surroundings. I am not nearly that evolved. And that's ok. There are some things I would like to do to our"new" home. I want to make it feel like mine. But I don't need it to reflect a page out of Canada House &amp;amp; Home magazine, nor is that my style. I want our home to reflect what's important to us. I want to make it a place for relaxation, conversation, music, and entertainment. Open. Bright. Airy. Comfortable. Not cookie cutter. But a home that reflects who I am. Who my family is. And yeah, that just might mean a hot tub and a fire pit in the backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-992432399060062618?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/992432399060062618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=992432399060062618' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/992432399060062618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/992432399060062618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/06/on-renos-and-balance.html' title='On Renos and Balance'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-1975393567938736266</id><published>2009-07-06T09:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T16:28:51.727-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Small Town Vibe</title><content type='html'>I love our neighborhood. Love love love it.&lt;br /&gt;Hard to believe that a year ago I was convinced I would never want to buy a house in the "country" and put down roots in a small town. But life has a way of leading to you to things you never knew you wanted in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to run by the cows at night. "Hello ladies".&lt;br /&gt;I get to drink wine on my front porch and enjoy pure nothingness.&lt;br /&gt;I have neighbors. Real neighbors. Neighbors who help you do crazy things like pull up your front "lawn" and put down sod.&lt;br /&gt;Sophie gets lots of little friends and a quiet street to run wildly into with mama hot on her tail.&lt;br /&gt;I get space. Personal space. Outside. For perhaps a hot tub and a fire pit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if only a coffee shop would open in my neighborhood. Until then, I will stick to perfecting my own brew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-1975393567938736266?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/1975393567938736266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=1975393567938736266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1975393567938736266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1975393567938736266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/07/small-town-vibe.html' title='Small Town Vibe'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8816516694617605800</id><published>2009-06-30T08:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T09:28:04.522-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Happy One Month Anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SlH7coKA-oI/AAAAAAAAAGk/gWi6AKrEcLE/s1600-h/VegasBaby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SlH7coKA-oI/AAAAAAAAAGk/gWi6AKrEcLE/s320/VegasBaby.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355337901154564738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Vegas was everything Vegas should be. Bright, loud, over-the-top, plastic, hot, brown, grey, and best of all, fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a blast. The wedding was what weddings should be. Relaxing, sweet, romantic, fun, officiated by Elvis.....wait! WHAT? That's right. The best part, was that through the power of technology, our friends and family were able to watch us in real time! Very very cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 cheers for elopements. And a happy one month anniversary to my fantabulous husband. I am so happy you uttered these words to me last month, "What would you say if I told you we are going to Vegas next weekend to get married?". Honey, you rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-8816516694617605800?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8816516694617605800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8816516694617605800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8816516694617605800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8816516694617605800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/06/happy-one-month-anniversary.html' title='Happy One Month Anniversary'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SlH7coKA-oI/AAAAAAAAAGk/gWi6AKrEcLE/s72-c/VegasBaby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8451749576415586875</id><published>2009-06-25T20:49:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T08:46:13.060-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Calm</title><content type='html'>I don't stop much. Not enough.&lt;div&gt;But tonight, I am sitting on my front porch, with a warm humid breeze blowing my hair out of its ridiculously tiny ponytail, drinking a nice glass of wine, watching the neighbors water their flowers and shrubs, watching the dogs enjoy the respite from the hot day, admiring the purply hue peaking through the clouds as the sun goes down, and playing online scrabble with some dear friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I feel. calm. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel rested. And well. And blessed to live in such a beautiful neighborhood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-8451749576415586875?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8451749576415586875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8451749576415586875' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8451749576415586875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8451749576415586875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-dont-stop-much.html' title='Calm'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-6477435139904956421</id><published>2009-05-25T21:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T22:17:44.949-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Vegas Baby!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/ShtRP5DucOI/AAAAAAAAAGc/e0SRiMDXBXE/s1600-h/las_vegas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/ShtRP5DucOI/AAAAAAAAAGc/e0SRiMDXBXE/s320/las_vegas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339951116634190050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We are doing it. Gettin' hitched. And we are doing it up crazy-style! Vegas baby!! Practical, non-adventurous Me!?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 days ago, darling M says "What would you say if I said we were going to Vegas next weekend and we get married?". After I picked my jaw up off the ground I replied "What would you say if I told you I no longer have a valid passport?" Gulp. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, that was just a minor hurdle. One that we "easily" cleared. Apparently, if you pay an extra $30, Passport Canada will get you a passport 3x as fast as they will if you only pay a measly $87.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So in 4 days, we board a plane (or 3) to Vegas. I can barely handle the excitement. I can't even focus enough to write this post. There's a lot left to do, but we are having fun prepping for it. Got the dress, shoes, accessories, swimsuit. Tickets and hotel are booked. Elvis chapel is booked (YEAH BABY!). I still need to get my hair done, finish off 10 lists, grocery shop for Sophie and the wonderful friends and family who are making this possible, and try to finish a week of work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a cool thing. Our wedding will be broadcast live over the internet Saturday! And available for viewing for the following 90 days. Gotta love technology.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, I can see how all over the place I am tonight. So I am going to quit and go to bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 sleeps and counting!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-6477435139904956421?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/6477435139904956421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=6477435139904956421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6477435139904956421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6477435139904956421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/05/vegas-baby.html' title='Vegas Baby!!'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/ShtRP5DucOI/AAAAAAAAAGc/e0SRiMDXBXE/s72-c/las_vegas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-7762243276267471738</id><published>2009-05-11T15:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T15:53:31.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Life Thing</title><content type='html'>I have been delinquent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't posted in over 2 weeks. Not only that, I haven't been totally kind to my body. I feel undernourished, so I need to work on that. I won't blame it on life's distractions and roadblocks. That would be unfair. Nor, will I blame myself. It isn't a blame thing, it's a life thing. It just is. Sometimes, we fall off the rails a little. It is good to do on occasion, because it reminds us of how good it feels to get back in control and live life well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my aim for this week is to live life well. To take a few moments to step back from the craziness and breathe. To get some fresh air and move my body. To fuel my physical self in a way that gives me energy to enjoy these things. Not a big commitment, but a commitment nonetheless. That's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. I am worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;jl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-7762243276267471738?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/7762243276267471738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=7762243276267471738' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7762243276267471738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7762243276267471738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-life-thing.html' title='It&apos;s a Life Thing'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-6069535053300497256</id><published>2009-05-10T20:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T15:59:22.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'>'Appy Nuddah's Day!</title><content type='html'>I feel blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my little family, and completely enjoyed soaking them up today. I even got a "Lub You!" and a "Appy Nuddah's Day!" from Sophie! Add to that a lovely healthy breakfast and a beautiful steak dinner BBQ'd to perfection, a couple of bright hanging baskets for the front porch, and I feel like a pretty lucky mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a hectic life, but it's a good life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-6069535053300497256?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/6069535053300497256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=6069535053300497256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6069535053300497256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6069535053300497256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/05/appy-nuddahs-day.html' title='&apos;Appy Nuddah&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3266960215091872090</id><published>2009-04-09T11:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T12:53:39.844-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hurts So Good</title><content type='html'>Evidentally, getting rid of pain is painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my first appt with Duane yesterday, aka, my new hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 minutes into my conversation with him, I had a good feeling he would be able to help me. He didn't seem surprised by my pain pattern, in fact, he seemed downright optimistic that there are things he can do to help me. And so, we got right to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quel Suprise!! My shoulders are rounded forward, the front of my neck is terribly tight, my upper vertibrae don't move well....at all. And the best part? I am apparently turning into a winged creature on my right side. Something about a winged shoulder blade. Flying might come in handy if gas prices spike again, so I am reluctant to "fix" this. It is also possible that I am evolving into some type of mixed beast. Half bird, half woman. Birdwoman! I need to work on the name and the outfit....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treatment, while seemingly gentle, is painful. Active Release Technique (&lt;a href="http://www.activerelease.com/"&gt;http://www.activerelease.com/&lt;/a&gt;) is a soft tisggue manipulation. It isn't pleasant to have someone jam their fingers deep into your armpit while stretching your arm over your head. Kinda feels like a hot poker. Nice. The chiropractic work that Duane did, cracking my neck and putting my rib back in its place, sounded rotten but felt quite good. I left the appointment feeling taller and more "open". I also nearly vomited when I got back to work. I don't think my body is used to having this much free-moving oxygen and blood flowing through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, 5 days after the first appt, I have only had 4 "attacks" of the jaw pain, and none of them were bad enough to make me cry. I consider this an incredible success. I know the journey to wellness is going to take some time, but I am incredibly excited that things are looking up. I have 2 more appointments with his this week, to keep the momentum going. The world looks different without pain. Almost shinier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-3266960215091872090?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3266960215091872090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3266960215091872090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3266960215091872090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3266960215091872090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/04/hurts-so-good.html' title='Hurts So Good'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-4951279596782429978</id><published>2009-04-02T09:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T11:10:25.432-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pain</title><content type='html'>We all cope differently with pain, and it affects us all in different ways.&lt;br /&gt;Me? I start to mentally shut down and withdraw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been suffering ever-increasing pain from my shoulder blade to my jaw, and all points in between for the past few months. The last month it has gone from bad, to worse, to mind-altering. When spasms hit me, I can barely function. Fortunately, they respond to advil. Unfortunately, I have hit my advil limit unless I don't mind losing my stomach lining. It's a toss-up. Given I am up to having about 10-15 of these "attacks" a day, it is time to stop expecting massage therapy to help and try some other options. And so, after years of claiming I would never try chiropractic, I am off to see a guy next week who comes highly recommended by many people, practices Active Release Therapy, and oh yeah, does chiropractic. When I pull my shoulder blade back, something clicks in my rib cage, so it is possible I have a rib that is slipping. I dream at night of someone popping that rib back in, and life being good again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I plan to chronicle my treatment here. It is just another way of me coping with the pain. Although, my addiction to my laptop just may be part of my issue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-4951279596782429978?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/4951279596782429978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=4951279596782429978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4951279596782429978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4951279596782429978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/04/pain.html' title='Pain'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8390774748018775640</id><published>2009-03-20T13:36:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T13:58:48.845-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Renewel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/ScPYfLkKSCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/MtBI-RM6dL8/s1600-h/Commercial_Vehicle_Braking_Spring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315330015419320354" style="WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/ScPYfLkKSCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/MtBI-RM6dL8/s320/Commercial_Vehicle_Braking_Spring.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Spring! (Not that kind)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/ScPXkzt6BuI/AAAAAAAAAF8/u4wu1psecYQ/s1600-h/cartoon-flower_01.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/ScPYfdRY2LI/AAAAAAAAAGM/7bWmK7ZLoN0/s1600-h/cartoon-flower_01.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315330020172421298" style="WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 201px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/ScPYfdRY2LI/AAAAAAAAAGM/7bWmK7ZLoN0/s320/cartoon-flower_01.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone notices it. Everyone comments on it.&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lifeforce&lt;/span&gt; that seems to have erupted from the depths of dark, cold, and grey over the past week. Spring. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel rejuvenated. Like I am emerging from a long, tiring journey. The heat on my skin makes me shiver, ironically. The glimpses of brown grass beginning to erupt into a sea of vibrant green. My pale skin starts to glow and come alive with the promise of vitamin D and fresh air. My energy force seems to be plugged back in, after several months of being on reserve power. I tingle with the anticipation of setting my feet free of the shackles of fabulous yet suffocating boots. Of adorning my toes with bright shades of polish. Dressing them up for no reason other than to celebrate their freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ahhhhh&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the best of all? The absolute bliss of enjoying energizing conversation and banter with good friends, over a pint of cold ale on a bustling patio. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bring it on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I raise my glass to SPRING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;jl&lt;/span&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/3802531612902499692-8390774748018775640?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8390774748018775640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8390774748018775640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8390774748018775640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8390774748018775640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/03/renewel.html' title='Renewel'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/ScPYfLkKSCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/MtBI-RM6dL8/s72-c/Commercial_Vehicle_Braking_Spring.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3765089053698906736</id><published>2009-03-11T10:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T11:15:17.754-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Post about Nothing in Particular</title><content type='html'>I haven't written in a month. Well, that's not entirely true. I wrote a speech for Toastmasters this past week, and it is what pushed me to visit my blog.&lt;br /&gt;I love to write. I love to ponder while the words flow from my mind, to my fingertips. I love to see what form they will take on the screen, figure out of they make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, so what if they don't? Make sense that is? Who cares? I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have anything really to write about today. Nothing in particular. I just wanted to write. Something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something. I am nurturing relationships with female friends today. I need to. I want to! This is very good for me. I don't spend a lot of time with women. I just don't connect well with them. I tend to enjoy fostering relationships with the more masculine sex. But lately, I have met a few real cool &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;chiquitas&lt;/span&gt;. Women who walk with their heads high. Women who aren't afraid to be funny. Women who, despite their own demons, seem to truly believe they are important. That they are worth the space they occupy and the air they breathe. They are sassy and vibrant, even on their dark days. I love it. I don't feel drained when we sit and connect. I feel energized. I feel inspired. I don't feel like I need to manage my words so as not to offend. I don't feel like I need to coddle a deep-rooted lack of self confidence. My soul has been longing for these kind of additions to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel truly fortunate that the universe has placed these women on my path. There's nothing like meeting kindred spirits to help you realize how connected we are with the world when we plug in, and are open to the energy that flows around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;jl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-3765089053698906736?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3765089053698906736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3765089053698906736' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3765089053698906736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3765089053698906736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/03/post-about-nothing-in-particular.html' title='A Post about Nothing in Particular'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3623891544557728700</id><published>2009-02-11T15:32:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T20:32:22.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bite me Cupid</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SZWKOHA0g9I/AAAAAAAAAFc/mAPCVQ2WU8I/s1600-h/valentines_day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302296111303918546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 282px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SZWKOHA0g9I/AAAAAAAAAFc/mAPCVQ2WU8I/s320/valentines_day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't do V-Day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As a single person, I didn't care for V-Day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As a person with a spousal unit, I still don't care for V-Day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;People talk of V-day as a &lt;em&gt;love &lt;/em&gt;day. Are you freakin' kidding me? It's obligation, guilt, and depression day, depending on your situation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Restaurants are overcrowded and it bites for the servers who have to suffer through a see of endless 2-person tables. What a boring atmosphere! Poor men wander aimlessly through aisles of mushy cheesy hallmark cards and cheap chocolates, or worse again expensive jewelery because they will end up in the dog house and sexless if they come home empty-handed or with a bag of lacy lingerie (the item they really want to shop for). Women compare what they received to what their friends got. Didn't get diamonds? Poor you, guess you aren't loved as much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And what do single people get out of it!? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whatever. So cupid, you chunky little shit disturber, to you I raise my glass of wine (that I bought myself) and shout an enthusiastic "BITE ME!".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-3623891544557728700?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3623891544557728700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3623891544557728700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3623891544557728700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3623891544557728700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/02/bite-me-cupid.html' title='Bite me Cupid'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SZWKOHA0g9I/AAAAAAAAAFc/mAPCVQ2WU8I/s72-c/valentines_day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-6053543023494110580</id><published>2009-02-09T10:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T08:18:09.691-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unsolicited Change</title><content type='html'>At times, change is hard. Change is especially hard when it is forced upon you. Life throws that at us on occasion. Those are generally external changes that you either adapt to, or well, be miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what about internal change that happens without you actively and consciously prompting it? When things that used to satisfy you no longer seem to fit? Or when you evolve and grow without trying to change? For me, I think these shifts are necessary. And while I don't resist them, they definitely have an impact and leave me questioning. Why am I changing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have recently found myself feeling a bit lost. Two pasttimes that used to bring me some level of joy and entertainment, have left me feeling ...... bored. And tired. Shopping and TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Retail therapy used to be my thing. Frustrated? Shop. Feeling fat? Shop! Happy? Shop!! Now? Notsomuch. When I head out now to shop for things I don't need, I end up feeling ticked off at the waste of precious time and angry at myself for spending money on things I never knew I even wanted. Worst than that (or perhaps better than that), I usually come home completely empty handed after having come to my senses an hour after hitting the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV used to be my "go to" thing in the evening. I would race to sit my ass on the couch to fit in as many shows as I could before bedtime. Then I would bitch all week about having no time to play guitar, work on photography, paint my toes, etc. I have reached the point where at the end of a long evening of TV watching, I am mad at myself for having lost hours passively sitting instead of taking some of the time for quality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why now? Why do these things no longer feed me? The obvious answer is Time. Or lack thereof. Working a demanding full-time job with increasing responsibility and being a mom to a wild and wooley 17 month old leaves me with very little me time. I want to spend that time wisely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that there's another reason. I am more than a mom. I am more than my career. Without taking time outside those two parts of my life to nurture "Jennie" I feel a little lost. I feel like I am living a robotic life. Get up (early!) be a mom. Go to work, be a career person. Come home, be a mom. Sit ass on couch, be a...? Be a what? I need something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I have started working on adding some substance to my Jennie-time. I may not be able to add quantity to my time, but I can add quality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-6053543023494110580?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/6053543023494110580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=6053543023494110580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6053543023494110580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6053543023494110580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/02/unsolicited-change.html' title='Unsolicited Change'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3484241141856610560</id><published>2009-02-02T22:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T23:00:39.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>25 things I didn't know....</title><content type='html'>Tonight, I am reading lists. Not my lists. Lists from friends. Some old, some new. Lists of little things I didn't know. Little peaks inside their private selves. Deepness and revelations I didn't see coming.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's to embracing the unknown unknowns.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-3484241141856610560?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3484241141856610560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3484241141856610560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3484241141856610560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3484241141856610560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/02/25-things-i-didnt-know.html' title='25 things I didn&apos;t know....'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-7644880657148036289</id><published>2009-01-22T22:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T22:53:23.671-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Down Mental Roadblocks</title><content type='html'>There comes a point when you just can't deny that something is not quite right. That something you are doing or thinking is not only counter-productive, but mentally draining and useless. A complete waste of precious time and mental energy. I need to step back from some daily patterns and behaviors and try to alter them. It's easier said than done. I have a slight quirk that makes some patterns obsessive, yet I can barely focus on other things. I have been doing some research into this over the years because I have struggled for a long time with issues with attention span and focus. While I am not a fan of labels, I can't help but wonder if I fit somewhere on the adult ADD scale. Maybe. I have lost interest in this post.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-7644880657148036289?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/7644880657148036289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=7644880657148036289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7644880657148036289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7644880657148036289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/01/breaking-down-mental-roadblocks.html' title='Breaking Down Mental Roadblocks'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-1766898567383805240</id><published>2009-01-15T15:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T15:43:06.064-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Sounds</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, if you stop and listen, you will hear the most amazing sounds.&lt;br /&gt;I don't stop enough. I definitely don't listen enough. I hear plenty, but I listen too little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I do listen, here's what hits me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A purring cat calms me instantly. Especially Rascal cat. Her purr is loud and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;boisterous&lt;/span&gt;, no holding back. Full of love. Sometimes it says "You rubbed my belly!! I LOVE YOU!". Other times, the purr is a happy acknowledgement that you said good morning to her. Bailey purrs are also lovely, but with his massive coat and loud meowing, the purrs often get muffled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie's voice, when not screaming, so soft and sweet, is the prettiest thing I have ever heard. To hear her say "On &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;koh&lt;/span&gt;" (encore) after I have read Alligator Pie for the 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; time in a row, makes reading it the 21st time a pleasure. Listening to her "come to life" in the morning as she wakes, with all the soft cooing and sleepy moans, makes it hard not to jet into her room and scoop her up out of her crib.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the sweetest sounds of all, is hearing the man I love, all big and bold, softly speak beautiful words of complete adoration to my lovely little girl. His affection for her is bigger than he is, and her big blue eyes gaze back at him in complete reciprocation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;jl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-1766898567383805240?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/1766898567383805240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=1766898567383805240' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1766898567383805240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1766898567383805240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/01/sweet-sounds.html' title='Sweet Sounds'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-6911652228147127810</id><published>2009-01-09T08:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T08:58:10.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF!</title><content type='html'>Things I am excited about this weekend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;That nice pot of slow cooker beef stew I made last night&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 days of laughter and snuggles with Sophie&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wii!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Exercise&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A hard massage tomorrow with my favorite buxom blonde therapist&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rock Band!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wine! Wine has been reserved for weekends now and I an enjoying planning a new bottle to try to indulge&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Snuggling in the basement by the fire watching movies or PVR shows&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Relaxation&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Enjoy your weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-6911652228147127810?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/6911652228147127810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=6911652228147127810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6911652228147127810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6911652228147127810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/01/tgif.html' title='TGIF!'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-6564110264072298518</id><published>2009-01-07T08:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T08:56:00.468-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pajamas in the Daytime?</title><content type='html'>This will be a quick blog. It is a public service announcement.&lt;br /&gt;I love pajamas. Even cartoony fleecy printed pj pants.&lt;br /&gt;But I beg of you. If you are above the age of 3, please stop wearing your pj pants in public!!&lt;br /&gt;You don't need to be a fashion plate, but looking like you give a crap about yourself might just make you feel like a little less of a slob. It takes 30 seconds to take off your pajamas and put on something else. Even yoga pants are a huge improvement. Almost red carpet-ready compared to pajama pants. Plus, it's winter in Ottawa! Those pink puppy pajama pants aren't going to keep you warm in -30 temps. That's what I saw a 40+ woman wearing this week. Not cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this sounds bitchy and I should just look away, but I can't. It needed to be said ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There. I feel better now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-6564110264072298518?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/6564110264072298518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=6564110264072298518' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6564110264072298518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6564110264072298518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/01/pajamas-in-daytime.html' title='Pajamas in the Daytime?'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5684329790127884254</id><published>2009-01-05T08:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T08:57:42.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflecting and Resolving?</title><content type='html'>I don't really do the whole New Years resolution thing. Too much pressure. Or perhaps it is because I like to buck the trend. Having said that, I do need to make a couple of changes to feel healthier and more balanced. This is less of a resolution and more of a necessity now that I have been back to work for 4 months and getting the hang of this working mom thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some background....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008 was quite a year. We started the year with a move. New digs in the country. That took some getting used to. On the plus, after 4 months of maternity leave, I was finally used to not working and the whole motherhood thing. It took that long for me to shut my work-jennie mode down. Once I adjusted to that, I got into a good groove on the homefront. Sophie and I had a routine, I had access to healthy food 24/7, and I had a supportive partner that allowed me a chance to focus on my workouts. I hated feeling the loss of muscle from pregnancy, even though I had worked out hard until I was 7 months pregnant. I couldn't imagine carrying around that 20lbs that didn't fall off in the first 4 months post-partum. I felt uncomfortable, stiff, weak, and just completely unfit. So, I lavished attention on Jennie. And Jennie liked it. Within a few months I started to feel like a strong woman again. And not just physically! Mentally, I started to feel more like my old self. Perhaps even better because I felt more grounded and balanced. Of course, I suck at living in the moment, so as spring turned into summer I started mentally revving up for a return to work. I no longer was content being a stay at home mom, and while I knew it would be tough to juggle, I was looking forward to using my brain again. The last 4 months of 2008 were exhausting. Daycare, busy work projects, illnesses, a dust-collecting house, financial and real estate explorations....Christmas vacation was necessary to keep from having a nervous breakdown. I lost a connection to Jennie during those last 4 months of 2008. I gained back 5 lbs, not a big deal but I don't feel centered and grounded when I don't treat myself well. I spent a lot of time angry and frustrated and my fuse got shorter and shorter as 2008 wound down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here we are in 2009. After 2 weeks of spending a quiet christmas with my lovely little family, sleeping 8 hrs a night, exercising regularly, cooking, spending time with friends, I finally relaxed and allowed myself to breathe. Of course, I can't stay on vacation. Which is why last night, I tossed and turned and got up at 5 this morning due to an inability to let go and give myself permission to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to do better. For me, my family, and my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I will take some baby steps to do better. I am confident that now that the working mother thing isn't new to me, I will learn how to prioritize better to allow myself some breathing room. I also need to use my "downtime" more constructively. We have started to do that. We now workout together in the basement in the evening. It gives us some quality time together, and we are each other's cheerleader. I will also take the help offered with meal planning and preperation. It is important for me that we lead a healthy life on the nutrition and physical fitness front, so I will make that a priority over less value-added rituals like 2-3 hrs of TV a night. That's not to say we plan to throw the TV out in the snowbank. We need our brainless activities on occasion. Balance is the goal. Not perfection. But with a little planning, and a lot of teamwork, I am confident that we can back to balanced. Just as it took me 4 months to get used to being at home fulltime with Sophie, perhaps 4 months is the time required to adjust to giving that up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To a healthy, and balanced '09.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5684329790127884254?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5684329790127884254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5684329790127884254' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5684329790127884254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5684329790127884254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/01/reflecting-and-resolving.html' title='Reflecting and Resolving?'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-4503987363421020011</id><published>2009-01-02T11:07:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T13:47:57.107-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Communicating - Toddler Style</title><content type='html'>Our Sophie is quite chatty these days.&lt;br /&gt;This was the conversation I overheard yesterday between her and Bailey, whiney cat extraordinaire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bailey: "Rarrrrrr!" (meaning, "I want kibble")&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: "meooowww"&lt;br /&gt;Bailey: "Rarrrrrr!!" (meaning, "Why are you mocking me!?")&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: "meooowww"&lt;br /&gt;Bailey: "RARRRRRRRR!!" (meaning, "MOM!!! She's making fun of me!! I am going to go poop on the carpet soon!")&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: "woof!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie's language skills are developing at an amazing rate. Everyday lately, there's a new word. "meow", "woof", "Oh wow!", "uh oh", "NO", "No daddy!" These are some of the words she picked up over christmas. And "no no no no no no" aside, I could listen to her babble all day. She has the sweetest voice ever....except when she is screaming in frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frustration is the flipside to her increasing toddler-ness. While she is learning a lot of words, she is far from being able to communicate everything she wants. And since I was too lazy to teach her sign language (who knew that just buying the book wasn't enough?!") she throws a lot of tantrums when she wants something and we don't understand. For example, I had all the christmas "Kickees" (cookies) in a clear tupperware container with a blue lid. Apparently, Sophie memorized that container. The other night I put dinner leftovers in the container and before I could get it in the fridge, Sophie saw it on the counter and came running, hands reaching for the countertop and a very insistant "Ahhhhhh!! Ahhhhh!! Ehhhhhhh!!!!!" loudly escaping her voicebox.  I didn't know what she wanted! I offered her everything under the sun. "Juice?" "Cracker?" "Francois the frog?". All those items were angrily thrown across the room and she started beating on my legs in frustration. Finally it dawned on me!! "COOKIE!?" Well, her eyes lit up and she flashed me a megawatt smile. "Kick-keeeeeeee!" After fetching a cookie from the freezer, defrosting it in the microwave for 9 very looooong seconds, I made Sophie a happy little toddler. Cookies make everything better. Just wait until she learns about bacon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-4503987363421020011?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/4503987363421020011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=4503987363421020011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4503987363421020011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4503987363421020011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2009/01/communicating-toddler-style.html' title='Communicating - Toddler Style'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5291249599232710640</id><published>2008-12-18T13:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T13:25:40.362-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tradition</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SUqVmD4YiGI/AAAAAAAAAEc/O6phiZYTCbQ/s1600-h/MarioSophie2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SUqVmD4YiGI/AAAAAAAAAEc/O6phiZYTCbQ/s320/MarioSophie2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281197994154690658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is a time to act with tradition as my guide. Or at least, it used to be. This year I am taking time to reflect upon tradition and question whether I really want to do something for the sake of tradition. I don't like doing something "just because I have always done it that way".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gift-giving. In my family, no gifts were opened, or even seen!, until Christmas morning. In my hubby's family, Christmas gifts were opened Christmas Eve late at night. With them visiting last year, I conformed to the family way and we ripped into all our gifts apart before bedtime. At first I felt very excited! Like a kid! Like a teenager defying a parental rule! Of course, just like after having devoured a plate of cookies, I felt guilty and unsettled. Why is that? It isn't because I cared a great deal about the Christmas Eve vs Christmas Morning debate. It is because I had never done it before and it just didn't feel quite right. Perhaps I felt like if I told my parents they would raise an eyebrow in question, wondering what kind of strange people I have taken up with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, gift-giving is just one example of tradition. It isn't all about the gifts :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, we are staying in Ottawa for Christmas, and there is no family coming to visit. We have a blank canvas to create our own Christmas tradition....or forget about the idea of tradition altogether and do what feels right for us, right now, this year without worrying that we are setting in stone the path for future yuletide festivities. Our one hope is that we can take time to spend some quality family time together, and that we can start leading the example that holiday season is more about family than keeping Future Shop in business. Given the dozens of gifts sent from family members to Sophie, we might have our work cut out for us....but we will do our best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;jl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5291249599232710640?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5291249599232710640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5291249599232710640' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5291249599232710640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5291249599232710640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/12/tradition.html' title='Tradition'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SUqVmD4YiGI/AAAAAAAAAEc/O6phiZYTCbQ/s72-c/MarioSophie2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-1484948390104442116</id><published>2008-12-16T10:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T10:27:28.329-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's a healthy weight for you?</title><content type='html'>Oprah has been in the media a lot over the past couple of weeks. After successfully losing weight a few years ago and getting to a healthy 160 lbs, she has lost motivation for the lifestyle that helped her achieve the weightloss, and she is back at 200 lbs. She is embarrassed and apologetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maintaining weight loss is very very hard. Harder than losing it to begin with. Why? Because people lose weight by adopting a lifestyle that is either too extreme to keep up longterm, or because they aren't happy living the new lifestyle. It doesn't fit them. Oprah is over 50. Metabolism isn't her friend. To lose that weight she admitted to having to work out like a fiend and lived on an incredibly strict diet full of rules and restrictions. That's tough long term. It is hard to living happily like this. Some people manage. But the majority do not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's a person to do? Stay overweight? Live an unhappy life? I think the answer lies in the middle. Some of us need to accept that if we want to live a happy life, we might have to learn to accept our bodies at a less-than-perfect (for us) size. I live a healthy life, 80% of the time. To lose my baby weight, I had to live a healthy life 90% of the time. When I hit my pre-preggo weight, I relaxed a little, back to the 80%. I don't gain or lose more than a lb this way. And I get to drink wine and eat cookies. The payback is my pants are a size 12 and I have a muffin top. I have spent most of my life trying to get to 10 lbs lighter than I am now. Perhaps 145 isn't my perfect weight. Perhaps 155, while a little soft and flabby, is my perfect weight. Perhaps it is time to let go of this image in my head of a more svelte Jennie, who looks pretty darn close to the real life version except maybe a little tighter. Perhaps that Jennie, while she looks happy in her size 10 jeans, is ticked off all the time because she has to figure out another way to cut 150 calories from her day, has to get up at 5am to hit the gym a little more and just realized that despite all that she only lost .25 of a pound this week. Perhaps that very difficult to achieve and maintain Jennie, isn't that happy afterall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-1484948390104442116?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/1484948390104442116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=1484948390104442116' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1484948390104442116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1484948390104442116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/12/whats-healthy-weight-for-you.html' title='What&apos;s a healthy weight for you?'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5276495035232770346</id><published>2008-12-05T10:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:43:13.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Things</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, the best things in life are overlooked.&lt;br /&gt;I tend to get easily caught up in things that have minimal long term importance.&lt;br /&gt;These things, while necessary, shouldn't overshadow the truly amazing things in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I pay homage to the things that are so good, I get warm and mushy when I give myself the opportunity to sit back and soak them in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;In-laws. M's parents were visiting recently. Their absolute adoration and patience for Sophie is infectious. Plus, they taught her a lot of french. :) Having them around meant that we could get out of the house on a couple of dates. That was pure bliss.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My folks. My dad is coming this weekend for an overnighter on his way home to NL. He is helping my uncle move to NL for Christmas. I wish I could be with my family for Christmas. I think I will make that happen next year.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My partner in crime and child-raising. Watching him with Sophie melts me. She has him wrapped around her cute little slightly evil finger. She looks at him like there's no one else in the world. She has turned a big tough guy into a ball of mush. He is the best dad ever. On top of this dad-thing, he is an amazing partner. This love blows my mind.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sophie. There are no words. That smile stops me in my tracks. Her voice is the sweetest sound on earth. And her energy ignites me...and sometimes wear me down to a complete stop :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Our friends. We have such good friends. Friends who would drop their busy lives to give us an opportunity to get out and enjoy a hockey game or dinner. We are extremely thankful for having such good people in our lives. More importantly, we are happy that Sophie will grow up with them as family. Our chosen family.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Weekends and vacation. aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;-jl&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5276495035232770346?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5276495035232770346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5276495035232770346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5276495035232770346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5276495035232770346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/12/best-things.html' title='The Best Things'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8665890349411920971</id><published>2008-11-27T15:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T15:34:43.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Roof of One's Own</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SS8EXcbE_DI/AAAAAAAAAEU/VRP-uOhqsfM/s1600-h/Castle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273438489487408178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SS8EXcbE_DI/AAAAAAAAAEU/VRP-uOhqsfM/s320/Castle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We almost bought a house last fall. Something stopped me. Well, many things stopped me, but the thing that bothered me the most was that I couldn't imagine small single homes going up much more in price, and if I was going to pay 400K for something, I wanted it to still be worth 400K in a couple of years. Better yet, I wanted it to be worth more. Worth. That's an interesting word. We all know that the house is not "worth" the 400K in terms of it's bits and pieces. A house gets its "worth" by what people are willing to pay for it. To me, the suburbia houses jam-packed like sardines weren't worth 400K at the time. Beautiful homes, no doubt, but I just couldn't feel comfortable being house poor when I wondered if my "investment" would fail.&lt;br /&gt;Intuition is a great thing. Emotion almost made me buy. Reason kept me away. I don't know if or when that house will ever be "worth" 400K again. Maybe. But for now, the bubble has started to deflate. I won't say "burst" because Ottawa didn't have crazy inflation like vancouver and calgary, but I think the real estate market is feeling the air being let out a tad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now what to do. We are renting a lovely home, and are considering buying it. But have things fallen enough? I don't think so. I don't expect to be able to time perfectly to buy at the bottom, but I sure don't want to buy while it's only halfway down. Who's to know? Experts? Who do you trust? I sure can't rely on news items with studies funded by those with real estate interests. Politicians? Nah thanks. So, we just keep watching the market. And the economy. It is also scary to buy right now given that jobs could start being cut to keep companies afloat. We are in some sort of recession. I am not ready to polish off my gun, grow my own food or start hunting squirrels yet, but how far down will the market go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no answers. Just a lot of questions, like everyone else. So, what's a girl to do? Live as simply as possible for now. Ignore the emotion of wanted settle down in my own home and renovate. What point is that settling down if it serves to be a stressor. Perhaps we will experience a shift of consciousness. Maybe people will need to live a little more simply. Maybe people won't feel a need to have posh furnishings and the best of. Maybe people will stop feeling like they have to keep up with the Joneses. Perhaps all the Joneses have is more debt anyway, and you don't want that right now. Maybe there will be an ever so slight shift away from being a materialisitic consumer society. Perhaps we will have to take more pride in our abilities, talents, and skill than in the shine of our granite countertops. Maybe we will become better family members.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps? I dunno. Maybe we will all come out on the other side of this as better individuals. Maybe we all need this. Maybe the universe does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-8665890349411920971?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8665890349411920971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8665890349411920971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8665890349411920971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8665890349411920971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/11/roof-of-ones-own.html' title='A Roof of One&apos;s Own'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SS8EXcbE_DI/AAAAAAAAAEU/VRP-uOhqsfM/s72-c/Castle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-7116911254600771794</id><published>2008-11-24T21:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T22:05:35.575-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Happening to Me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SStrdOVH0BI/AAAAAAAAAEM/QqPg4G4XGfQ/s1600-h/AB10880~Shopping-Girl-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SStrdOVH0BI/AAAAAAAAAEM/QqPg4G4XGfQ/s320/AB10880~Shopping-Girl-Posters.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272425938574364690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been feeling odd lately.&lt;div&gt;Dissatisfied. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But not dissatisfied with my body, or my mind, or my life as a whole. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am dissatisfied with &lt;gasp!!&gt; SHOPPING!&lt;/gasp!!&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, after years of being a very satisfied consumer and a firm believer in the powers of retail therapy, shopping no longer does it for me. Not only does shopping not do anything for me, it actually annoys me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, this is a very new and scary feeling for me and it could change as soon as I get enough sleep (when cold season is over), but there it is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps it is the flailing economy making me start to pay attention. Perhaps it is because I finally have a budget and track where my hard earned dollars go. But ya know, I think it just might be a little more.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-7116911254600771794?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/7116911254600771794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=7116911254600771794' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7116911254600771794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7116911254600771794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/11/whats-happening-to-me.html' title='What&apos;s Happening to Me?'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SStrdOVH0BI/AAAAAAAAAEM/QqPg4G4XGfQ/s72-c/AB10880~Shopping-Girl-Posters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-2983261013687496138</id><published>2008-11-14T08:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T09:58:34.105-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Deep End</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SR2SEy1NudI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Q4bodZTWojg/s1600-h/61089116.TheDeepEnd_35169.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SR2SEy1NudI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Q4bodZTWojg/s320/61089116.TheDeepEnd_35169.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268527750155450834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My blog is pretty light for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;I don't write a great deal about angst or spend much time pondering the meaning of life in the blogosphere. Some might even consider me shallow as I don't tend to spend a lot of time in the deep end of life. I have my moments. I question a lot of things, but I am not much of a dweller. If I don't like something, I fix it. There are some things that linger, but for the most part I do what I need to do to ensure a happy healthy life, given how short it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder sometimes if I am not shallow. I read about friends struggling on a daily basis with personal identity and travelling to the ends of the earth to learn more about themselves. I read "Eat, Love, Pray" and while I enjoyed the descriptions of the travels I found myself increasingly annoyed at Elizabeth and her self-absorbed whining. I couldn't finish it. I felt like yelling "Dear god woman, suck it up!" And the idea of going off to "find oneself" seemed a little disingenuous given she had a guaranteed book deal out of doing this for a year and a laid out plan of 3 locations that would lend to a good book more than self-learning. I dunno....I just couldn't get on board. I started out liking it a lot, but I think I just enjoyed the idea of eating a ton of food in Italy. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People, women especially, seem to be in a constant mode of self-improvement. It is trendy right now. I don't want to stay stagnant, I learn about myself on a daily basis in regular old day-to-day tasks and living. I grow. I change. But I am ok with who I am. There are things I would like to learn, but if it doesn't happen, I am not going to think less of myself. I wonder why so many women feel inadequate? My life is far from perfect. My body is far from perfect. My mind could hold more information. My spirituality could benefit from some growth....but I feel good enough even while working on some of these things. I don't feel tortured and on hold until I achieve the ultimate balance of goodness. Perhaps I just live a life of low-expectation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never be the smartest woman in the room. I will never be the most enlightened woman in the room. I will never be the most beautiful woman in the room. And I won't likely inspire you to live a better life. But I am the woman in the room comfortable in my own skin. I am the woman in the room who you won't be intimidated to talk to. I am the woman in the room who you won't need to coddle because my self-confidence is so shaky. I am just me. And I am ok with that. Shallow? Nah. Deep? Not entirely. I think I just float around somewhere in the middle, and that's a lovely place to hang out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-2983261013687496138?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/2983261013687496138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=2983261013687496138' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2983261013687496138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2983261013687496138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/11/deep-end.html' title='The Deep End'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SR2SEy1NudI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Q4bodZTWojg/s72-c/61089116.TheDeepEnd_35169.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-2745930754284673532</id><published>2008-11-06T23:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T12:12:54.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jennie's Best of Beauty - Nov '08</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SRR2oqf-MuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ope4iP7rkgI/s1600-h/lead-free-lipstick2-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SRR2oqf-MuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ope4iP7rkgI/s320/lead-free-lipstick2-lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265964305278186210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a cosmetics junkie. But I am a frugal, and smart cosmetics collector, and I review all purchases before bringing them home. This is especially important since I buy a lot of products at the drugstore rather than at a department store, so I buy a lot of products without testing them.&lt;br /&gt;Drugstore? Heck you say!? One of the biggest beauty myths is that department store brands are superior to drugstore brands. In fact, many department store brands are owned by companies who also own drugstore brands, and guess what? The ingredients are often identical, but with flashier packaging and a price tag that will set you back that new pair of shoes you  have been eyeing. Having said that, there are some fabulous beauty finds on the high price end, and some real crappy ones at the drugstore that aren't worth a dime. Here's a breakdown of my current favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Foundation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Cover Girl Trublend&lt;/span&gt;. LOVE LOVE LOVE this product. It is easy to blend, has several natural colors, and has a light to medium coverage. Best of all, it comes it at about $10. Be careful chosing shades. A couple of them are orangy. No one has naturally orange skin. I use #2, Creamy Natural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Concealer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Maybelline Mineral Power Liquid Concealer&lt;/span&gt;. Very good wand-type concealer. I love it around my eyes, and it doesn't slip into the creases to highlight creases. It stays put. Again, it cost less than $10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Eyeshadow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Great eyeshadow is hard to find. The older we get, the more we need to avoid shimmer and sparkle. Nothing says "Look at my lines and creases!" like shimmer settling into wrinkles. Having said that, I do like a tiny bit of shimmer on occasion, but I use it on the brow bone in a the form of a light eyeshadow color as a highlight. It makes the brow bone pop, and visually increases the distance between your brows and your eyes, which makes you look more rested and younger. Yay! You want something silky with enough pigment to allow you to layer on color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favs are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;M.A.C. Eyeshadows.&lt;/span&gt; I love em. They are like velvet. At $16 per single, they aren't cheap, so make sure you have someone at the M.A.C. counter help you pick out some good neutrals. On the plus side, these last forever, and hardly crease, even after a 12 hr day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Quo Eyeshadow.&lt;/span&gt; Superb eyeshadow. The texture is heavenly and the price is right. $19 for a quad (4 coordinating colors).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Cream shadow/liner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Using creamy eye color is new for me. I have always steered clear due to fear of creasing. I am not a convert. Creamy eye colors and liners and perfect to using under powder eyeshadow, to help intensify color and set it. Since I use powder as eyeliner, I find this to be an invaluable tool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;M.A.C. Paints &lt;/span&gt;- I use a color called "Stilife". It is a golden beige with a slight shimmer. I apply it with  my finger from lash line to brow bone. It serves as an excellent base for the rest of my shadow, and it adds a slight shimmer to the brow bone area. It costs about $18 but one small tubes lasts me a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.paulaschoice.com/product/constant-color-gel-eyeliner/Eyes-and-Lips"&gt;Paula's Choice Gel Liner&lt;/a&gt;. This product ROCKS! It is the best eye liner ever. It doesn't budge. Unfortunately, it is mail order only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Smashbox Cream Liner&lt;/span&gt;. I find this to be a little too greasy to be a good liner. It fades and slides after a while. However, it is a great base for powder eyeshadow on the upper lid when doing smokey eyes, as seen here: http://www.smashbox.com/classic_smoky_eye. Smashbox is available at Shoppers Drug Mart but is on par with M.A.C. prices. This product costs about $20. The color LAVA is awesome for smokey eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Brow Pencil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;My brows are kinda sparse, so I need to fill them in. I like a pencil because I find powders messy. I am currently using &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Maybelline's Define-A-Brow&lt;/span&gt; in blonde, and I love it. It is cheap! About $7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Mascara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There are a lot of great mascaras out there, and the new ones with the rubber cone shaped bristles are quite good. I find that Cover Girl is doing a great job with these, and you can't go wrong with &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Lash Exact and Lash Blast.&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; Last Blast does have a bigger brush so it takes some getting used to. Both are under $10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Lip Gloss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;For my money, nothing beats M.A.C. in this catagory. &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Lipglass &lt;/span&gt;is fabulous, but sticky. I put up with the stickiness because it means the color stays on for hours on end.  It costs about $16. the Viva Glam release every year is always a great option for many skin tones. It is usually on the nude end with some pink or gold highlights.&lt;br /&gt;On the low end, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Rimmel Vinyl &lt;/span&gt;is also a very good, non-sticky lip gloss, and is under $10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Longwear Lipstick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I find these tough for everyday use, as they are drying, but they are great for evenings out. They are usually double sided. One side has a liquid color with a brush or sponge wand applicator. The other side contains a high moisture topcoat that must be reapplied at least hourly, lest you want your lips to resemble a raisin.&lt;br /&gt;I currently using &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Maybelline Superstay&lt;/span&gt;, and find it long lasting and less drying than some alternatives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Cleanser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Cleansers wash down the drain. They don't leave behind special vitamins and age fighting chemicals. Their main purpose is to remove makeup and dirt. This means you don't need to break the bank. My favorite is an old standby, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Cetaphil&lt;/span&gt;. It does a decent job of removing even heavy eye makeup, and doesn't leave my skin feeling tight and dry. Best of all, at about $16 for a big bottle, you will have money left over for those shoes. Lately, I have been buying the grocery store brand version for $10 and the ingredients are identical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Moisturizer for Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;By far, my favorite is &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Oil of Olay Regenerist with SPF 15&lt;/span&gt;. It doesn't leave my skin greasy. It is a great base for my foundation. And it has sunscreen. Win win win. It is also under $20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Moisturizer for Nighttime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;At night, you can go with a heavier moisturizer, and one that has a nice AHA or BHA for exfoliation. I swear by &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Neutrogena Healthy Skin Face Lotion with AHA&lt;/span&gt;. Again, for under $20 you get a kick-ass moisturizer with ingredients often reserved for high end products. The amount of alpha-hydroxy acids in this lotion help keep skin clear from breakouts, but is gentle enough to use daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Eyecream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Why bother? The skin around your eyes may be more delicate, but it has the same requirements as the skin on the rest of your face. Some people feel better for using eye creams, and there are some good products out there, but you don't need to spend 10x the price of a good all over facial moisturizer. Again, save your makeup $$ for some nice M.A.C. eyeshadows, and some killer brushes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...speaking of brushes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Brushes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;M.A.C.&lt;/span&gt; on the high end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Quo &lt;/span&gt;on the low end (very very very good!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;Body Shop&lt;/span&gt; for man-made bristles for those who don't want natural hairs.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-2745930754284673532?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/2745930754284673532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=2745930754284673532' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2745930754284673532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2745930754284673532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/11/jennies-best-of-beauty-nov-08.html' title='Jennie&apos;s Best of Beauty - Nov &apos;08'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SRR2oqf-MuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ope4iP7rkgI/s72-c/lead-free-lipstick2-lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8137549941785774556</id><published>2008-11-06T09:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T09:21:06.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nurturing Jennie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SRL9SJO2mkI/AAAAAAAAAD0/TyjMzdJkfB0/s1600-h/jwe0243l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265549402507221570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SRL9SJO2mkI/AAAAAAAAAD0/TyjMzdJkfB0/s320/jwe0243l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that I am settling into a new groove, a new reality, I am able to give a little more to myself.&lt;br /&gt;My nutrition planning and devotion to physical fitness has returned, as has a better balance.&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying my weekly yoga class, and am invigorated by my return to "man pushups" and feel myself growing stronger each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next step is nurturing my creative side. Having played with our new kickass DSLR over the last few months, it is time for me to learn more about photography. I am starting simple with an intro class this sunday that involves getting to know my camera better. I can't wait! I am excited by it. I have learned that I have a good eye to capture emotion and personality in my people shots. I want to further that by learning more about composition so that those shots truly come alive. As I learn, I will post my pics here, and hope to see a progressive improvement in quality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Balance. Nice to feel it. Even if it is short lived :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-8137549941785774556?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8137549941785774556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8137549941785774556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8137549941785774556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8137549941785774556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/11/nurturing-jennie.html' title='Nurturing Jennie'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SRL9SJO2mkI/AAAAAAAAAD0/TyjMzdJkfB0/s72-c/jwe0243l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8973921237714623112</id><published>2008-10-30T08:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T08:51:44.088-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On life and love....</title><content type='html'>I am not much of a mushball. I am easily scared away by overtly aggressive displays of affection toward me. It isn't that I don't like to be loved, or love, I just display affection very selectively and carefully because that feels genuine to me. When people are overly affectionate toward me, I feel smothered and I fight reciprocation quite often because one of the greatest things in like that annoy me is insincerity. For me to be openly lovey all the time would be insincere, and that isn't fair to anyone. Then I feel badly because I am human and don't want someone to be hurt. But, I can only give freely if it feels genuine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or perhaps it is a "need" thing. I don't want to be needed. I refuse to validate someone's flailing self-confidence. The more I feel needed, the more I retreat.  I thrive and come out of my shell when I am surrounded by confident souls. I feed off that energy, and within that energy I feel giving and free. That's when I feel open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pregnancy scared me for this reason. How would I respond to a clingy, needy baby. Would I be a cold mother? Would I fail at providing this little being with unconditional love, snuggles, and love? On the contrary. I have never felt such love. I have never been open to such love. And while Sophie is dependent on mommy for many things, I sense this independent spirit and a life energy that is addictive and intoxicating. She loves space. Space to learn and explore. She comes to me for plenty of snuggles and kisses, but it feels more like something she is offering up to me rather than something she is taking from me. On ossasion, I feel myself trying to woo her to draw affection and energy from her. Sometimes, she pushes me away. My first reaction is to feel hurt, then I smile, knowing she is her mother's daughter. It is a beautiful thing, because when she offers me her gestures of love, I know she is feeling full, open, and genuine. That makes my heart smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-8973921237714623112?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8973921237714623112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8973921237714623112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8973921237714623112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8973921237714623112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/10/on-life-and-love.html' title='On life and love....'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-7656088411363881425</id><published>2008-10-27T09:16:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T09:46:50.784-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am I?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SQXGRnyqhNI/AAAAAAAAADs/MXDp5bj1rK4/s1600-h/nov17_speaker_podium.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 137px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SQXGRnyqhNI/AAAAAAAAADs/MXDp5bj1rK4/s320/nov17_speaker_podium.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261829745693852882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to deliver my first toastmasters speech this week, tomorrow actually. I haven't written it yet. It is the "icebreaker" speech, which means I get 5-7 minutes to talk about myself. Only 5-7 minutes? Given my mind is filled with many ideas and slants for this speech, I imagine I could go on all day. Then why haven't I written it yet? I am a classic procrastinator. I once tried to fight this, only to give up when I realized that when I complete things early, I change my ideas last minute and redo all the work anyway. It does make for some stressful 11th hour moments, but I do my best work that way. Unfortunately, now that my life is busier, this little personality trait has me rushing to completion far too often. I am pooped! Pack the lunches? Nah, I will do it in the morning. Get my gym clothes ready? Nah, I will do it in the morning. Go to the gym now, at 9:30? Nah, I will go this afternoon...until afternoon turns into evening, and evening turns into a spare tire around my waist.....but I have gotten off topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I? What parts of myself and my life do I want to share with this new group? My past? Growing up in Newfoundland? Work? Boring.... My many many interests? The fact that I fill my head with hundreds of things that peak my interest but I know or practice nothing to the point of completion because I get bored? Maybe. My beautiful little family? Perhaps. I could talk all day about Soph but that won't help my fellow toastmasters to learn much about me other than the fact that my life is run by a 32 inch blonde-haired blue-eyed dictator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what I will talk about....and my speech is 26 hrs away. I should probably jot some notes down this morning. Nah, I will wait until tonight. Lots of time! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-7656088411363881425?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/7656088411363881425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=7656088411363881425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7656088411363881425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7656088411363881425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/10/who-am-i.html' title='Who am I?'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SQXGRnyqhNI/AAAAAAAAADs/MXDp5bj1rK4/s72-c/nov17_speaker_podium.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-6352637911629779550</id><published>2008-10-17T09:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T11:09:51.570-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Discombobulated....zen-style</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SPiqqWgOI8I/AAAAAAAAADk/QAdzz5MtuiM/s1600-h/S-SP-O-301702-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SPiqqWgOI8I/AAAAAAAAADk/QAdzz5MtuiM/s320/S-SP-O-301702-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258140209527006146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't written in a while. I have tried. I started 3 separate blog entries and either couldn't finish them, got bored of it, or just needed to write to clear my head but didn't feel like posting for public consumption. I have been, for lack of better word, discombobulated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work was insanely busy for the first 6 weeks back. Trying to get into a new groove with Sophie while trying to work 50hr work weeks was exhausting. Now that the work crunch has slowed, I need to find another new groove, a real groove, a sustainable groove. Perhaps there will be a new movie, "How Jennie Got Her Groove Back". Hey, if Taye Diggs is open to helping me out, who am I to turn him down!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M has been crazy busy at work as well, which means we have struggled to get some good quality family time. I love working, but I hate that someone else gets all my Sophie-time. We are forunate that Sophie loves daycare and is learning and growing so much there. She is happy when we pick her up and those last couple of hours of the day are pure quality, or at least, we try to make it so. I am so looking forward to this weekend. It should be the first weekend in about a month that one of us hasn't had to work. We plan to take Sophie to a kiddie gym to get out all her wild toddler energy and perhaps get lots of sleep and catch up with all the goodies recorded on the PVR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Balance. It is the eternal struggle. Work. Motherhood. Lover. Me. I need to make better use of the Jennie-time. Play a little more guitar. Watch a little less TV. Work out just a little bit more. But when I sit back and breathe a little, I realize that this is life. It is a push/pull game and at times some parts of life need more of you than others. I think I am coming into a period where I can focus a little more on me and my little family. I am lightened by that thought. I feel happy knowing that the rat race isn't always an all-out venture. It ebbs and flows. I don't plan to sit and plot out what I plan to do with my time. That structure doesn't fit me. I will do what I feel is right, what fits me, in that moment. And at the end of the day, if I play one chord too few and watch one tv show too many, I will toss that silliness aside, snuggle my beautiful girl, say "meh", and just be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I just relaxed myself by writing this. Now, off to enjoy a beautiful lunch outing with a kindred spirit. My partner in sarcasm and wit. Shawny, I am on my way. Order the wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-6352637911629779550?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/6352637911629779550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=6352637911629779550' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6352637911629779550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6352637911629779550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/10/discombobulatedzen-style.html' title='Discombobulated....zen-style'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SPiqqWgOI8I/AAAAAAAAADk/QAdzz5MtuiM/s72-c/S-SP-O-301702-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-1683442454038322289</id><published>2008-09-24T22:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T22:26:51.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Little Moments</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SNr253noS1I/AAAAAAAAADc/RdIsTi9DIB0/s1600-h/4795_beauty_cartoon.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SNr253noS1I/AAAAAAAAADc/RdIsTi9DIB0/s320/4795_beauty_cartoon.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249779789696879442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get a lot of "moments" these days. Actually, I doubt that's true. I suspect I get a lot of opportunities for "moments", I just rarely take them.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is hectic. I am adjusting to the new reality, but I find myself longing for little moments of solitude. Little moments of pure blissful relaxation. I got my hair done tonight after work. Having an appointment in the early evening meant taking 2 cars to work, dropping Sophie off before rushing to the office, squeezing what felt like 5 days worth of work into 8 hrs, and rushing off to my appt without a chance to eat, or see my little Boo. Was it worth it? Not for the first hour. For the first hour I was distracted. Looking at everyone, not able to concentrate on my trashy magazine (what was Angelina thinking wearing that!?), and even reorganizing a chapter of my book on paper while the hair color worked its magic. I planned out tomorrow's meals, mentally made a grocery list, and stressed over the amount of work I have left to do at the office this week. It was exhaustive thinking. But then I had my moment. As Shannon washed the color out of my hair, I melted further into the chair with each pass of her hands over my tired achy scalp. I stopped clenching my jaw and felt blood rush to my brain. Pure blissful relaxation. It may have been a short moment, but it was a good one.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's to the good moments.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;       &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/3802531612902499692-1683442454038322289?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/1683442454038322289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=1683442454038322289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1683442454038322289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1683442454038322289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/09/nice-little-moments.html' title='Nice Little Moments'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SNr253noS1I/AAAAAAAAADc/RdIsTi9DIB0/s72-c/4795_beauty_cartoon.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-2424638436381699633</id><published>2008-09-21T21:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T21:58:14.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Dreams are Made of These</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SNb7qQx49JI/AAAAAAAAADU/aNkYt9dyEnM/s1600-h/1993-11-19.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SNb7qQx49JI/AAAAAAAAADU/aNkYt9dyEnM/s320/1993-11-19.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248659119224190098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do an orange mini-dress, a beautiful garden, dozens of robins, and a wedding have in common? Well, they were all at the same party in my dream last night. I tend to have very vivid, movie-like dreams. This one was particularly real, and I had one of those "did that really happen" moments when I woke up in the middle of the night. Of course it didn't. I wouldn't be caught dead marrying in a bright orange mini-dress, circa 1988. Orange does nothing for my skin tone.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there we were, M and I, standing under the big beautiful trees in our backyard, getting married. I in my bright orange mini-dress, He in a bright blue shirt and khaki pants, Sophie running around scaring the robins that were hanging out. So, what does all this mean? Given I dream about my teeth falling out, hands crawling up the bedroom wall, talking cats, and other oddities, I never take my dreams literally. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since I am procrastinating, trying very hard not to work on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt; night, I thought I would check out the &lt;a href="http://www.dreammoods.com/"&gt;dream dictionary&lt;/a&gt;, to see what my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;subconscious&lt;/span&gt; is trying to tell me. This is all in the same of light-heartedness and silliness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Color &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Orange &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Orange denotes friendliness, courtesy, lively, sociability, and an out-going nature. You may want to expand your horizons and look into new interests."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep, I buy that. That sounds like me. And now that I have proven I can keep a child alive and maintain a job, I am ready to add some new challenges to my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Robin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"To see a robin in your dreams, represents new beginnings and time for growth. It may also be a pun on someone whose name is Robin"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since I know no Robins, I am guessing it is time for new beginnings and growth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wedding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"To see a wedding in your dream, symbolizes a new beginning or transition in your current life. Dreams involving weddings are often negative and highlight some anxiety or fear. It often refers to feelings of bitterness, sorrow, or death. Alternatively, wedding dreams reflect your issues about commitment and independence."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yowitch! Apparently, I have deep issues about commitment and independence. Too bad I am too mentally exhausted these days to consider dating again. :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"To see lush green trees in your dreams, symbolizes new hopes, growth and desires. It also implies strength and stability. You are concentrating on your own self-development and individuation"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, to sum up:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am outgoing and friendly, looking for something experiences and social interactions, afraid of commitment, and worried about my individuality and independence. Not quite me, but I am social, always open to new things and exploring myself. The commitment phobe part who is afraid of losing herself? Nah, not so much. To be with someone in a caring, sharing partnership takes nothing from me. It doesn't eat away my individuality and independence. It doesn't reduce me to just being part of a couple instead of still being Jennie, in a relationship. It does help me grow and learn about myself because learning about who I am in a relationship, interacting with someone on the most intimate of levels, that's a beautiful education. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or, perhaps this all just means I need to go shopping for a bright orange mini-dress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-2424638436381699633?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/2424638436381699633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=2424638436381699633' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2424638436381699633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2424638436381699633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/09/sweet-dreams-are-made-of-these.html' title='Sweet Dreams are Made of These'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SNb7qQx49JI/AAAAAAAAADU/aNkYt9dyEnM/s72-c/1993-11-19.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-1579028919183435677</id><published>2008-09-14T15:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T15:23:29.984-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I'/><title type='text'>It's been awhile</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in a while. Life has been hectic.&lt;div&gt;I thought life was crazy before I want back to work. It was, but just a different kind of crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The working mom stint is tough. I won't post what a typical day looks like, but let's just say that by 8-8:30 at night when dinner is cleared away, the daycare bag is packed and lunches are prepped for the next day, there isn't much energy left to spare. That's good, because with my new early rise, I need to fall asleep early!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, we are adjusting! And there are a couple of highlights of my day that I have come to love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Driving to working together after dropping Sophie off at daycare. We get 15-20 minutes to chat, laugh at silliness, make fun of slow drivers, drink coffee...without having to turn around in our seats 100 times to amuse Sophie.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Driving home after work! Seems like some of the best moments are in the car these days :) We get to vent about our days, help each other figure out solutions, support each other and get excited together about picking up Sophie!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;PICKING UP SOPHIE! This is the best part of the day. It is like Christmas on a daily basis. She is so happy to see us (for 15 seconds before resuming play) and we get to snuggle her up and give her kisses (for 2 seconds before she pushes us away).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sitting at my desk in the morning. I feel fresh. For a little while, I am not responsible for Sophie. I can focus on me and work.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love that I can get dressed up in the morning, and stay clean!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Adult (mostly) interaction and conversations.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The 2-2.5 hrs at the end of the workday that I get to spend with Soph before her bedtime. Those are quality hrs. We have so much fun and I soak her up because I appreciate her so much.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;I operate differently at work than I used to. It is no longer my top priority, and that is super freeing. I am more efficient, and more productive than ever because I know that in 8 hrs, I have to get out of the office, regardless of how much work I have to do. Little things don't bother me like they used to. I don't stress over things that now seem silly and insignificant to me. And I am less interested in allowing people to waste my precious time with silliness. Need to bitch and whine. That's not productive. Move along. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are some things that I am finding tough. Like my nutrition and workouts. I am somehow managing to keep up with them, thanks to making them a life change while I was on mat leave, but it sure is harder to fit those things in. But I must. They are key to keeping me feeling grounded and healthy. I also find it really hard that someone else gets to spend more time with Sophie than I do. That seems wrong to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This post is a brain dump. Nothing particularly funny or thought-provoking in here. Just a snapshot of the current state of my world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until I next find time to write...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/3802531612902499692-1579028919183435677?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/1579028919183435677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=1579028919183435677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1579028919183435677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1579028919183435677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-been-awhile.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5354469500577734977</id><published>2008-08-18T19:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T20:29:04.992-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A girl, a mission, and a craft store?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SKoTy9RgayI/AAAAAAAAAC8/e4MomFvDeZY/s1600-h/rsln1l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SKoTy9RgayI/AAAAAAAAAC8/e4MomFvDeZY/s320/rsln1l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236019282934000418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Seriously. What the hell am I doing here."&lt;div&gt;That's what was going through my mind as I made my 10th trip around the aisles at Michael's craft store today. I am not exactly a big craft store person. I go there only when necessary and usually for a specific item that I grab quickly before hightailing it to the cash. I am planning Sophie's first birthday party. I needed to get the perfect liners for the birthday cupcakes and some other cake-decorating tools, and hoped to be inspired in-store to create some cool loot bags for the little kiddies coming to the party. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First stop - Cake decorating supplies. Easy peasy.  Enter store, turn to the right, done! I found what I needed in 2 minutes. I should have stopped there. I should have ended the misery of inhaling boatloads of dried eucalyptus and listening to bridezillas whine to their mothers, friends, and anyone who would listen, how unfair it is that they can't get X invitation in pink. Woe is me. Please stop the crazy world from spinning off its axis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lost in a sea of yarn, fake flowers, plastic greenery, paints, paper, and glitter, I felt confused and bewildered....and a little bit like a duck out of water. I found myself in an aisle of scrapbooking supplies only to realize there were 4 other aisles also dedicated to scrapbooking! WHAT!? How many stickers and paper do people need? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so, after my 10th trip around the store looking for party inspiration, I decided to cut my losses and get out with the cupcake gear. I may return when I have a better plan for my attack on the store. Or I may hit a less scary store, like Walmart! One thing is for sure. I am going to pull my money out of mutual funds, and invest in a scrapboking company.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5354469500577734977?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5354469500577734977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5354469500577734977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5354469500577734977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5354469500577734977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/08/girl-mission-and-craft-store.html' title='A girl, a mission, and a craft store?'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SKoTy9RgayI/AAAAAAAAAC8/e4MomFvDeZY/s72-c/rsln1l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-8395400378653315690</id><published>2008-08-09T09:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T10:17:45.763-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to work. Really? Already?</title><content type='html'>Time flies. No surprise there. &lt;div&gt;But never has time whizzed by me at warp speed like it has over the last 11.5 months. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sophie turns 1 at the end of this month. With that comes my return to the office.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am experiencing a lot of different emotions, depending on the hour of the day, Sophie's mood, and the alignment of the moons. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a taste of my mental smorgasbord:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Excitement! I miss using my brain in an intellectual capacity.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fear. I don't know if I still have a brain to use in an intellectual capcity.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Excitement! I look forward to nurturing my career again and am looking forward to doing valuable things at the company. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fear. I know it will take a lot of work to regain my footing after a year off. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Excitement! It's a whole new company now with new systems and new processes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Oh crap! I have to learn new systems and new processes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Excitement! I get to drink hot coffee again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fear. I lose my nice homemade coffee and will be stuck with gut-wrenching Tim Hortons. (Mental note: Must buy coffee press to make coffee at work)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Excitement! Sophie will meet new people and learn new things at daycare.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;FEAR! DAYCARE! Oy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fear. Finding time to keep up with all my meal preparation and workouts to stay fit and healthy. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Excitement. Finding new ways to integrate my priorities of nutrition and fitness into my workday rather than working out at night.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Excitement! A real paycheque again!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could go on, but you see how the dance goes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the most part, I am looking forward to returning to work. I miss the intensity of deadlines and using the analytical and pragmatic parts of my brain. It is hard to employ the use of reasoning skills with a 1 year old. She just doesn't want to see things my way at all :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-8395400378653315690?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/8395400378653315690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=8395400378653315690' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8395400378653315690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/8395400378653315690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/08/back-to-work-really-already.html' title='Back to work. Really? Already?'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-2704805807943079297</id><published>2008-08-08T13:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T14:18:12.081-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PDAs - Public Displays of AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SJyNGY-qCNI/AAAAAAAAACU/vPvIb5J7uEw/s1600-h/ibn0085l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SJyNGY-qCNI/AAAAAAAAACU/vPvIb5J7uEw/s320/ibn0085l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232212008021657810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People love babies.  Until recently, Sophie was like this adorable accessory. &lt;div&gt;Everywhere I went, people had to stop and look at this cute, fat little bundle of adorableness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Comments were always of the "Oh how cute he/she is!?", "What a darling!", "I love his curls". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently, babies are also unisex.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People love toddlers. Until toddlers throw fits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I experienced my first public temper tantrum today. I knew it was coming. Mom told me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And she will probably grin when she hears about it. She warned me it would all come around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps I was a *tad* dramatic as a wee little Jennie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And perhaps pre-Sophie, when I proclaimed that I would "never have any children" I was a little less than understanding when little people screamed in restaurants and shops. I didn't visibly let on that I was annoyed, but I was. Heck, I am still annoyed when other people's kids lash out in public! So I had it coming. Karmic retribution once again at work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sophie clearly did not want to be at the Canada Post outlet at Shoppers Drug Mart. More accurately, Sophie did not want to be in the torture device known as "The Stroller". Feeling all proud of my beautiful little accessory as always, with 4 people in the lineup ahead of me, Sophie loudly lets everyone know that the stroller is biting her/poking her with hot needles/trying to eat her diaper butt. As only a toddler can, she straightened out and pushed with all her might to get away from her evil restraints, and when realizing she could not get out, SCREAMED. Not just little baby cries, but those you-can-hear-her-out-in-the-parking-lot screams. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I had 2 options. Stay and let her scream and try to calm her so that I could finish my errand, or leave. Much to the disappointment of people around me, I stayed. I picked Sophie up for a bit to give her a break from the stroller, and she calmed, even giggled (because she thought she won). That grew old fast when she realized she still wasn't on the floor where she wanted to be. Back in the stroller she went. She screamed a little. I screamed a little on the inside. But I smiled, talked to her gently, kept my composure, finished my errand, and left the store, dignity (mostly) still in hand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that I am at home, recovering with a big coffee while the noise-maker naps (tantrums do tucker you out you know), I have a few things to say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;To the cranky woman with the perma-scowl who shook her head in disgust when Sophie screamed - "BITE ME!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To the old man, who looked a little like a woman and should really consider less time in the sun or more sunblock and who shared useless, unsolicited parenting advice with me -"BITE ME, and bite the cranky perma-scowl woman while you are at it."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To the woman in front of me who offered to let me go ahead of her because as she said "I've been there"- another big "THANK YOU" to you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To the super nice Canada Post employee who ignored all of Sophie's screams, looked past the crochety toddler, saw a beautiful little girl and said "Hi cutie! How are you doing? You helping Mommy?" - "BLESS YOU!" I could hug you. (I didn't btw. That might have been a little awkward.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To the moms and dads out there who have experienced public toddler tantrums, and that would be all of them - "I am sorry. I finally understand."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And lastly, to Sophie. Though I wanted to say "SUCK IT UP, life will undoubtedly get worse", instead I say, "I love you even when you are loud and obnoxious...and thank god you are cute"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now I am off to soothe Bailey who fell victim to toddler hands on our arrival home. His tail looks a little less "pouffy" than usual.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&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/3802531612902499692-2704805807943079297?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/2704805807943079297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=2704805807943079297' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2704805807943079297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2704805807943079297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/08/pdas-public-displays-of.html' title='PDAs - Public Displays of AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SJyNGY-qCNI/AAAAAAAAACU/vPvIb5J7uEw/s72-c/ibn0085l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3297317422996759791</id><published>2008-07-25T14:48:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T20:20:25.121-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Food Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SIolpTEV4HI/AAAAAAAAACM/dlf-l71HlJI/s1600-h/IMG_2499.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SIolpTEV4HI/AAAAAAAAACM/dlf-l71HlJI/s320/IMG_2499.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227031708940230770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"Fun"&lt;div&gt;I don't know that I would refer to feeding Sophie these days as "fun", but it sure can be entertaining, frustrating, exhausting, frustrating, educational, and oh yeah, frustrating.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are 3 foods that I am guaranteed Sophie will eat each day. Cheese, yogurt and Kamut Puffs. Grilled cheese sandwiches are hit and miss. Sometimes the grilled cheese must be left whole, sometimes it has to be in small cubes. Sometimes it is obviously evil and not edible. Obviously. Until recently I was complaining that Sophie would only eat baby food veggies in the jars, regardless of how much I pureed fresh homemade ones. This insulted me a little. I mean, I am a damn fine cook! Now I wish I could get her to eat jarred veggies. She refuses. It isn't that she doesn't like them. She just won't try them. The only veggies she will eat these days are green beans. Loves em. For now. Tomorrow the wind might change and the green beans will fall victim to Sophie's disgusted toss over the side of the high chair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some things I have learned this week:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheese must be nothing other than white. If it is orange, it clearly isn't cheese and will be discarded immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sneaking other items into yogurt will not be tolerated. Nor will future yogurt be consumed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mom's and Dad's sandwiches are a yummy treat, even when the same sandwich was rejected when offered in a cubed state.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;High chair = torture device&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A bib, while uncool to wear, is an excellent toy and is worthy of chewing for hours.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rejected yogurt and other mushables, have awesome splatter potential when projected by a toddler making "car noises". &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just have to remember that she won't be doing these things when she's 20....right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, off to go to eat cold grilled cheese crusts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&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/3802531612902499692-3297317422996759791?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3297317422996759791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3297317422996759791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3297317422996759791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3297317422996759791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/07/friday-food-fun.html' title='Friday Food Fun'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SIolpTEV4HI/AAAAAAAAACM/dlf-l71HlJI/s72-c/IMG_2499.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-228569649049652681</id><published>2008-07-17T15:42:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T16:23:40.629-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who took my baby!??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SH-kL1HMg2I/AAAAAAAAACE/_VdhDsFAOds/s1600-h/IMG_2333small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SH-kL1HMg2I/AAAAAAAAACE/_VdhDsFAOds/s320/IMG_2333small.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224074615915840354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone, somehow over the past couple of weeks, secretly swiped my baby and left me with this toddler-like creature. Just when I thought I had the baby thing down,  POOF! , she disappears. Left in her place is this independent, strong-willed, tenacious, stubborn, ball of energy and goodness. I don't quite know that I am toddler-compatible. It is exhausting. Long gone are the days when I can sit and surf while she sits and plays with the string on her pants for an hour. Now, I am lucky if something can keep her attention for more than 45 seconds. She is learning at a rapid rate. Some things good, some things bad.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The good:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;How to drink from a straw. SCORE! Whoever invented stupid sippy cups has never spent time with a baby. Sippy cups requires babies to tip the cup up and suck at the same time. Sophie got angry with them fast. She does have my temper. The toddler cup with the straw I bought is for 18 months and up. Of course now I understand that Sophie is a true genius. So long sippy cup!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How to walk around the coffee table and couch. Good....and bad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How to climb. Again, good and bad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bad:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pulling cat's tails is fun. This isn't good for anyone. Sophie pulls Bailey's tail. Bailey bites me. That seems fair.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How to turn on the spout on the water cooler. Oy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How to open cupboards and remove everything from them. Oy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How to empty tissue boxes and wipes dispensers at Olympic speeds. Sigh.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are more bads but I don't wish to throw the scale terribly off-balance. Because regardless of the bads or the devil-horns I see sprouting out of Sophie's curly head, we think we just might keep her. Her ability the smile, giggle and have fun is contagious, and highly addictive. As far as addictions go, I don't think this one's so bad. Besides, there's no 12-step program to try to give her up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I justed heard a pacifier hit the wall in her room. I guess that means that Princess-toddler is awake and squealing and yelling will commence in 5-4-3-2....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-228569649049652681?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/228569649049652681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=228569649049652681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/228569649049652681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/228569649049652681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/07/who-took-my-baby.html' title='Who took my baby!??'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SH-kL1HMg2I/AAAAAAAAACE/_VdhDsFAOds/s72-c/IMG_2333small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-1092582019878958628</id><published>2008-07-15T13:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T14:09:39.522-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sore fingers, soul fingers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SHzn1OqszuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/OIEEzfMkdXQ/s1600-h/GuitarGirl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SHzn1OqszuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/OIEEzfMkdXQ/s320/GuitarGirl.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223304569499209442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my guitar out last night. Actually, my guitar is sick and undergoing extensive surgery to repair a back injury so I took out M's baby. I needed to shut my brain down for a while and just zone in on one thing. That's a difficult task for me but achy trap muscles are indicative of my shoulders fighting gravity in a bad way. Music helps bring me back to Planet Jennie, if only for a few moments. I had 2 new tunes in my head yesterday that I knew would be good guitar songs for my voice, so I let the macbook show me the way with some excellent tab interpretations. I played only for about 30 minutes but it was enough to nail "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz and "Collide" by Howie Day. Ok, maybe "nail" is a tad strong but the songs were recognizable. Rascal seemed to enjoy the tunage and purred away, adding some nice bass to the band. Bailey cried for his kibble. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy with my accomplishment, I peeled my achy purple fingers from the fretboard, thanked the guitar for letting me stumble over her and poured my artistically satiated soul into bed. Sounds like a nice ending to the day eh? Conjures up images of an impending 8 hr slumber? Soph had something to say about how the night would play out. 20 minutes after falling into a deep coma, I heard her sweet, sweet cries for escape from the jail that is her crib. I don't think I will complain about a midnight snuggle with 23 lbs of cuteness, devilishness, and life. Especially while she sleepily stared at me with those blueberry eyes while I sang her my two new repeat-often songs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-1092582019878958628?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/1092582019878958628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=1092582019878958628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1092582019878958628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1092582019878958628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/07/sore-fingers-soul-fingers.html' title='Sore fingers, soul fingers'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SHzn1OqszuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/OIEEzfMkdXQ/s72-c/GuitarGirl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-59084583542632136</id><published>2008-07-13T14:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T14:37:44.816-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When a Goal is met</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;10 months and 14 days ago my mind was fixated on 2 major life goals. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keeping Sophie alive. Check. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hitting my pre-preggo weight by 9.5 months. Check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The former goal proved to be a lot easier than the second one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite months of gruelingly self-masochistic workouts and an OCD level of commitment to nutrition, reaching goal #2 has proven to be slightly anticlimactic. The day I realized I hit it, I celebrated with a naked happy dance around the scale for about 10 seconds and quickly made the next fitness goals for the next 2 months. And for the first time in my life, the new goals aren't because I am unhappy with my body. My new goals are because I feel so damn strong and fit that I feel like there's no stopping me from a physical standpoint. That is so mentally freeing. I love feeling the agility and endurance that a lighter body buys me. I love that shopping is fun again. I love that I am not always trying to stand or sit in a way that makes me look thinner. I just am. And that is KILLER!!! I would love to write more right now but my pint-sized trainer just woke from her afternoon siesta....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;More on the new goals latah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-59084583542632136?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/59084583542632136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=59084583542632136' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/59084583542632136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/59084583542632136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/07/when-goal-is-met.html' title='When a Goal is met'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3761617017321516310</id><published>2008-06-28T10:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T10:50:37.067-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On eating out with Princess Sophie</title><content type='html'>We took Sophie out to dinner last night. Actually, I am not sure that 4pm classifies as "night" but whatever. The main thing is, we went out to dinner! We needed a restaurant that would be "baby-friendly" and we figured we would go early before all the crowds came out. Well, apparently we are part of a new social group who I never knew existed. The "We have kids and go out at 4pm" group. We took a good look around us and laughed at the fact that this is our life now. There were kids all around us. Prepared parents were toting portable high chairs, toys, and hoards of baby-friendly foods. Some kids were running around like spin tops, but most were surprisingly well-behaved. It was almost as though they wanted to bash the stereotype and adopt a level of social decorum that no one expected of them. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sophie was among them. She was a champ. My sometimes shy child hammed it up and smiled at strangers, sat happily in her high chair and ate everything we gave her. She loved looking at other kids and tried touching hands with a toddler sitting behind her. Later we realized she was just trying to steal her fork. But whatever, she was an absolute joy to watch! Was it a quiet elegant meal? Hell no! Did I fully eat a hot meal? No way. Did I get to finish my drink? Nope. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. I may not have left the restaurant fully satiated with food and drink, but I left beaming with pride at my little social butterfly, totally oblivious to the mushed up pasta on my pants.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-3761617017321516310?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3761617017321516310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3761617017321516310' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3761617017321516310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3761617017321516310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/06/on-eating-out-with-princess-sophie.html' title='On eating out with Princess Sophie'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-1467323232555485951</id><published>2008-06-11T09:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T09:59:31.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Review Wednesdays - face painting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SFZxn8B3QzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/lLKvNSUYaek/s1600-h/BS_MakeupForever_366.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SFZxn8B3QzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/lLKvNSUYaek/s320/BS_MakeupForever_366.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212478549670708018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE makeup. I have cheapie makeup and I have expensive makeup. I would be willing to eat cereal for a week to buy an awesome new eyeshadow palette. I love having a wide selection of colors and textures. I love being able to change my look from cutie girl next door to vampy glam moviestar in 15 minutes. I love that I can hide a night of partying or 9 months of motherhood with a good concealer. I love getting a great deal at a drugstore on a killer product that costs under 10 dollars but feels like luxury. I HATE spending 20 dollars on a product to bring it home and find out it slides down my face in 45 minutes, or makes me look like Bozo the Clown. I am scared to death of clowns. I don't need to spend money to see one staring back at me in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a huge fan of Paula Begoun. Paula is the cosmetics cop. I saw her on Cityline several years ago and have been a follower ever since. She is a consumer advocate, debunking myths and fallacies in the beauty industry. She has written numerous books or product reviews, maintains on online cosmetics database to advise consumers of worthy/terrible products and has recently started her own cosmetics line, Paula's Choice. Her line is affordable and AMAZING! I ordered a few items online a couple of weeks ago and am in awe of the quality of the eyeshadow and gel eyeliner. For more info on Paula, check out the following links:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chapters.indigo.ca/books/Dont-Go-Cosmetics-Counter-without-Paula-Begoun/9781877988325-item.html?ref=Search+Books%3a+%2527begoun%2527"&gt;Don't Go to the Cosmetics Counter Without Me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chapters.indigo.ca/books/Dont-Go-Cosmetics-Counter-without-Paula-Begoun/9781877988325-item.html?ref=Search+Books%3a+%2527begoun%2527"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Online Product Reviews (There's a yearly fee)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.beautypedia.com/default.aspx"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.cosmeticscop.com"&gt;Paula's Choice Cosmetics &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's also a canadian site for ordering, with slightly less product selection, http://www.cosmeticscop.ca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy face painting!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-1467323232555485951?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/1467323232555485951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=1467323232555485951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1467323232555485951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/1467323232555485951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/06/review-wednesdays-face-painting.html' title='Review Wednesdays - face painting'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SFZxn8B3QzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/lLKvNSUYaek/s72-c/BS_MakeupForever_366.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-596828370627502518</id><published>2008-06-08T15:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T15:27:47.586-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SEwyrNcBxPI/AAAAAAAAABs/tvV_xrZdxBg/s1600-h/1473374456_073f9f8ceb_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SEwyrNcBxPI/AAAAAAAAABs/tvV_xrZdxBg/s320/1473374456_073f9f8ceb_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209594586883802354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never been as aware of time as I have been over the last few weeks. &lt;br /&gt;I feel like I have no time. I feel like time is flying by. I feel like I waste time. I feel like I would like to take more time for me. I feel like I don't know what to do with time when I have it. I have a love/hate relationship with time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think of that song, "If I could put time in a bottle..." &lt;br /&gt;If I had time in a bottle, what would I do with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would I add some time between now and the end of August, giving me more time to spend with Sophie before returning to work?&lt;br /&gt;Would I take some of it to work out more and as a result use some time to shop more to cloth my time-well-spent shrinking ass?&lt;br /&gt;Would I save some time, like money, to use during periods of absolute busyness? &lt;br /&gt;Would I use it in the middle of the night to catch more Zzzzzzz.&lt;br /&gt;Or would I simply squander and waste it like I tend to do quite a bit these days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I throw a lot of time out the window. I understand that I need to relax and enjoy some me-time, but I oftentimes feel that my me-time isn't time well spent. I tend to spend a lot of time virtually living. I spend far too much time on my laptop. I spend too much time watching TV. I spent far too much time beating myself up and feeling guilty. How do I learn to make good use of time? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try to start now. I won't go on facebook for the next 3 hrs. And I will remove my Scrabulous Application since I have 12 unfinished games going on at once. That should buy me a good 20 minutes a day. If I could get off facebook completely, I could probably reclaim 2 hrs a day! Sad sad sad existance. Is a virtual existance even a real existance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will end this post now and go clean the floors while Mario is out with Sophie. These are the few precious hours I have per week where the house is empty and I can vacuum. No sleeping baby to wake or scare. No climbing/crawling/pokey baby to keep my 2 hands busy. At least at the end of this cleaning stint, I will have a good sense of "time well spent" and perhaps I will have burned 50 calories. Now, if only I could teach the laptop to clean the floors....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-596828370627502518?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/596828370627502518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=596828370627502518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/596828370627502518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/596828370627502518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/06/time.html' title='Time'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SEwyrNcBxPI/AAAAAAAAABs/tvV_xrZdxBg/s72-c/1473374456_073f9f8ceb_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3462730583965497751</id><published>2008-06-04T09:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T15:10:38.789-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Review Wednesday - Lights, Camera, Microphone??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SEwuolP2QhI/AAAAAAAAABk/GNctkrIzfF4/s1600-h/sexandthecity.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SEwuolP2QhI/AAAAAAAAABk/GNctkrIzfF4/s320/sexandthecity.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209590143689048594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*** CONTAINS SPOILERS***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Friday night, I grabbed some girlfriends and dashed off to the hotspot that is Barrhaven to join 250 other chiquitas and 3 feet-shuffling men take in the first showing of the new Sex and the City movie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I like it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need to see it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about 30 minutes in, TV's (and now BIG screen's) favorite commitment-phobe, John James Preston (aka Big) nearly get's whacked in the forehead with a boom mic! No shit! The thing lingered around the upper 1/4 of the screen for much of the rest of the movie, making more appearances than Manolo Blahniks! It was more than a little distracting, and elicited many a teenage giggle from me and my fellow BFFs. Because of the distractions, I feel I can't write a decent review of the movie, because while I walked away from the movie feeling slightly dissatisfied, I can't quite nail down why. Is it because after spazzing out and fleeing the wedding Big decides at the end of the movie that yes, he would indeed like to get married, complete with cheeseball proposal on bended knee (Though there was a very pretty bejeweled shoe involved) that made me shrug my shoulders and say "why!?". Or is it because I am now a slightly older, slightly (totally) more jaded woman than I was when I first fell in love with the TV series? If the latter, does this mean my sense of romance has gone the way of the dinosaur? Or is it that I have simply tired of Carrie's wishy washy ways and inability to seem happy without a man in her life, especially one that oftentimes showed her little to no respect? Perhaps I hoped to see the 4 ladies exude more emotional confidence. Perhaps I want that because I would like more confidence in my own world? And perhaps.....just perhaps I am overthinking way too much and really need to sit back and watch it again, boom mic-free, with no judgement. And perhaps it wouldn't kill me to tap into my more romantic, non-practical, non-overthinking side from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-3462730583965497751?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3462730583965497751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3462730583965497751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3462730583965497751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3462730583965497751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/06/review-wednesday-lights-camera.html' title='Review Wednesday - Lights, Camera, Microphone??'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SEwuolP2QhI/AAAAAAAAABk/GNctkrIzfF4/s72-c/sexandthecity.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-7458047717583752407</id><published>2008-05-20T22:29:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T17:32:46.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Post for Shawny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SDOOhvVHzBI/AAAAAAAAABc/RFKtkX4ktcA/s1600-h/exercise-cartoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SDOOhvVHzBI/AAAAAAAAABc/RFKtkX4ktcA/s320/exercise-cartoon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202658704834939922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here tonight on my sore and achy glutes, I hear Bette Midler sing out "did you ever know that you're my hero....yada yada yada....you are the wind beneath my wings" This blog entry is for Shawny, one of my many (two) readers. My sister in iron. My partner in huffing, puffing, sweating and laughing 3 times a week as we put our body through what many might consider needless torture. She is my Greco Lean + Fit buddy. Never without a smile. Never without a sarcastic quick witted comment for those who just beg to be poked fun of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are nights when I would consider not going to class, but knowing that Shawny will be there to cheer me on (goad me), I happily (begrudgingly) lace up my outdoor shoes, grab my indoor shoes and race out the door. I like to think that I encourage Shawny to get her arse to class and work 110% as well. Although last sunday when I poked at her to grab a medicine ball while we were doing squats down the ladder (not quite as impressive as that sounds) she yelped back, "I am carrying my towel!" Now, perhaps that towel was weighed down with 8 lbs of brow sweat. Always a possibility at Greco. But I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so Shawny, as I sit here tonight, barely able to lift my arms to the computer thanks to Colonel Adam taking away the girly weights, I salute you. Or at least I would if I could lift my arm that far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See ya Thursday! And remember, we actually pay hard earned money for this cruel and unusual punishment!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*cursing added for color and flavor. May not be direct quote. Names were not changed to protect the guilty. Contest not open to those in Quebec.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-7458047717583752407?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/7458047717583752407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=7458047717583752407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7458047717583752407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7458047717583752407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/05/post-for-shawny.html' title='Post for Shawny'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SDOOhvVHzBI/AAAAAAAAABc/RFKtkX4ktcA/s72-c/exercise-cartoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-224927218908746319</id><published>2008-05-15T15:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T16:05:08.205-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Review Wednesday - Keeping track</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SDMu4_VHzAI/AAAAAAAAABU/HvO4_sjksTc/s1600-h/200calories2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SDMu4_VHzAI/AAAAAAAAABU/HvO4_sjksTc/s320/200calories2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202553551150631938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not one of those blessed people who can just casually watch what they eat, walk around the block and lose weight. &lt;br /&gt;I have to fight tooth and nail, and trick my body to let go of the flab. As soon as my body realizes what I am trying to do, it rebels and I have to be a quick change artist and switch it up. For this reason, I find I have to keep track of what I eat and when I eat it. I have tried writing in a journal, but I like reports that show me a breakdown of macronutrients at the end of the day. I have tried the Weight Watchers thing but "points" doing translate well to the real world for me. It works for some, but I don't care for it. My newest addiction, is sparkpeople.com. LOVE IT! I enter my foods based on my food labels or by searching their database for existing foods. I find it helps me see where I spend my calories and how to plan my days from an eating perspective. I also track my workouts there. It is one stop shopping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I still be using it in a month? I hope so, but we all know how fickle I am :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-224927218908746319?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/224927218908746319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=224927218908746319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/224927218908746319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/224927218908746319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/05/review-wednesday-keeping-track.html' title='Review Wednesday - Keeping track'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SDMu4_VHzAI/AAAAAAAAABU/HvO4_sjksTc/s72-c/200calories2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-2488011114195606995</id><published>2008-05-08T12:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T13:44:31.365-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Business of Health</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SCM2rnqTP2I/AAAAAAAAABM/ro6ni_bvmgg/s1600-h/note_to_self.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SCM2rnqTP2I/AAAAAAAAABM/ro6ni_bvmgg/s320/note_to_self.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198058517924364130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard to know what to eat in this "eat this, don't eat that" world. There are conflicting reports on the news everyday about what's good for you and what's not. Then there are thousands of diets and books on dieting. High carb, low carb, high protein, cabbage soup, low fat, no fat, raw food, yada yada yada. It is mind boggling for the average person. What if someone were to tell us what to eat by stamping a well known logo on healthy food options? That would help right? Not so much. I was saddened after watching Marketplace last month. They were reviewing the Health Check endorsement by the Heart and Stroke Foundation. What consumers don't realize when they bring home a cartload of "healthy" products with that nice little stamp on it, is that they aren't necessarily buying "healthy" items as much as they are buying "healthier" items. It is all relative. Frozen french fries, frozen microwave dinners, and canned soups don't fall under the category of "healthy" but I supposed they are "healtier" than say a big mac and deep fried french fries. Know what's healthier? A lot of items in the grocery store that do not have that fancy check mark on it because they come from companies (and farmers) who don't pay the H &amp; S Foundation for inclusion in the program. (This is for cost recovery purposes, as the Health Check program is not-for-profit.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not totally knocking the program....mostly because I don't feel I have the expertise, nor the backbone to handle to flack I might take for doing so. I think the onus should still be on individuals to educate themselves and employ common-sense when buying fuel for the body. And if we do want a treat from time to time, perhaps it does help to choose the treat item with a health check symbol on it. And I really do understand that the program was established to help guide consumers toward less evil items. However, we are talking about an organization who people turn to for the latest and greatest on how to keep our hearts ticking! I think it is more than a tad confusing to see frozen fries and high sodium frozen dinners as healthy items. Especially given the fact that the H&amp;SF preaches lowering daily sodium levels.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it is pretty tough to make a stamp stick to piece of broccoli.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more on the Marketplace study see, http://www.cbc.ca/marketplace/hyping_health/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-JL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-2488011114195606995?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/2488011114195606995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=2488011114195606995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2488011114195606995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2488011114195606995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/05/business-of-health.html' title='The Business of Health'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SCM2rnqTP2I/AAAAAAAAABM/ro6ni_bvmgg/s72-c/note_to_self.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5398729461696172422</id><published>2008-04-30T10:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T10:02:37.298-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Review Wednesdays - Life's Little Pleasures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SCG2SnqTP1I/AAAAAAAAABE/M9FRstffhNc/s1600-h/swa0224l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SCG2SnqTP1I/AAAAAAAAABE/M9FRstffhNc/s320/swa0224l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197635875962568530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate. Mmmmmmmmm. 98% of women love their chocolate, especially in times of great hormonal shift. The other 2% are weirdoes or allergic ;) I made those numbers up in case you felt like quoting me. You should believe only 33% of what you read online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love a nice dark chocolate. Not too dark, about 70% is perfect for me. It is creamy without being milky, and just bitter enough without being chalky like some of the darker chocolate. I have been a fan of Lindt for years. It is easy to find, moderately priced, and yummy. Plus, they make cute bunnies out of the stuff at easter. Everyone loves a good bunny ear on occasion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When grocery shopping last week, I stumbled upon a new chocolate in the grocery store's organic aisle named Green and Blacks. I decided to take 2 of them home to sample, in the name of research of course. The first a 70% dark, the second, Maya Gold, a dark chocolate with a hint of orange and spice. OMG!! It is the perfect blend of all things good. Maya Gold is my new addiction. It's a good thing I am also addicted to squats.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5398729461696172422?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5398729461696172422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5398729461696172422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5398729461696172422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5398729461696172422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/review-wednesdays-lifes-little.html' title='Review Wednesdays - Life&apos;s Little Pleasures'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SCG2SnqTP1I/AAAAAAAAABE/M9FRstffhNc/s72-c/swa0224l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3307922590388941082</id><published>2008-04-26T13:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T14:20:14.771-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Patience</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SBNyUR8Rr9I/AAAAAAAAAA8/UQDs1zTzt_g/s1600-h/CarCartoon.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SBNyUR8Rr9I/AAAAAAAAAA8/UQDs1zTzt_g/s320/CarCartoon.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193620488027484114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting here watching the teenage girl across the street back her mom's car out of the garage. She is obviously new to being behind the wheel, and is quick on the gas and brake. Her mother, pretending to tend to her gardening, looks on in amusement. Although I can't see her face, I am sure there is a wince there as the young girl grinds the gears. The girl steps out of the car and both mother and daughter start giggling about the situation. As I sit here watching them with a smile on my face, in awe at how cool and calm the mother is, I can't help but wonder how I will react when Sophie gets older and starts trying out new things. Will I be as patient and easy-going? Or will I be frustrated and short? I am hopeful that I can look back on my own first experiences, remember how challenging the world can be when you are learning, take a deep breath and not sweat the small stuff. Because ultimately, even though the car across the street may need a new clutch and brake pads in the near future, that's a small price to pay for fond memories of the giggles shared over the new adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-3307922590388941082?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3307922590388941082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3307922590388941082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3307922590388941082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3307922590388941082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/patience.html' title='Patience'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SBNyUR8Rr9I/AAAAAAAAAA8/UQDs1zTzt_g/s72-c/CarCartoon.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-7582468446877775869</id><published>2008-04-23T12:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T12:46:01.269-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Review Wednesdays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9nqx8Rr4I/AAAAAAAAAAU/UgfTyKOOXbA/s1600-h/cleaning.GIF"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9nqx8Rr4I/AAAAAAAAAAU/UgfTyKOOXbA/s320/cleaning.GIF" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192482880039792514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is odd for me to post about household cleaning products, because I hate to clean. Well, "hate" is a strong term. I have much better things to do with my time, like watching Ellen, surfing and blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the house to be clean, but I don't obsess over it. It gets done...eventually. What I do like, are products that make cleaning easier. Enter the Swiffer Vac. (Does this sound like an infomercial yet?) Mom told me to buy it. Moms are always right....right?&lt;br /&gt;With 2 cats and hardwood in every room, the little fuzzballs and dustbunnies are a plenty. The Swiffer vac has a light suction vac on the front of the sweeper and a regular swiffer base for the clothes that fir right behind the vacuum suction thingy. I used to go through about 4 swiffer clothes to get all the cat hair. Now the cat hair gets sucked up into the canister, and the clothes picks up what's left over. Takes 5 minutes to do the main floor, and 1 cloth. Now, if only I could teach the cats to use it, life would be good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-7582468446877775869?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/7582468446877775869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=7582468446877775869' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7582468446877775869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7582468446877775869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/review-wednesdays_23.html' title='Review Wednesdays'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9nqx8Rr4I/AAAAAAAAAAU/UgfTyKOOXbA/s72-c/cleaning.GIF' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-3604411952482849003</id><published>2008-04-22T09:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T10:12:17.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Firsts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA3yKR8Rr3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Uiz9-S-tRAo/s1600-h/IMG_1426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA3yKR8Rr3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Uiz9-S-tRAo/s320/IMG_1426.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192072203856883570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of firsts, that as adults, we can't remember. &lt;br /&gt;Having a child means you get to experience these firsts all over again. &lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Sophie had 2 new firsts. Her first ride in a playground swing, and her first taste of yogurt.&lt;br /&gt;We went for a walk in the beautiful sunshine, and found ourselves at the local playground. Sophie was a little on the cranky side because lately she doesn't like to be strapped down in her stroller. She would prefer the floor so that she can slither around on her tummy. I thought I would take her out of the stroller at the playground to let her wiggle a little and have a bit of fun before turning around to go back home. She started eyeing the swings so I thought, "why not!?" I squeezed her chunky monkey legs through the legholes of the swing seat and just let her sit for a minute to gauge her reaction. Not so sure. She just started at me like "What the hell is this?" I lightly pushes the swing and her eyes lit up and she gave me a big cautious grin. She loved when that the swing would take her away from me and then push her really close to me. It was a total game to her. Near and far, near and far. I felt like Grover on Sesame Street. In true Sophie form, the fun ended after about 2.5 minutes and she wanted out, as indicated by her upreaching arms and an insistent "AH". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, following her afternoon nap, I decided to introduce her to yogurt. I thought she might reject it given she tends to prefer veggies over fruits. Man, was I wrong! After eating some mushy peas and carrots, I opened the container of nice whole milk organic yogurt. She eyed it suspiciously. What was this new item? Intrigued, she opened her mouth and I gave her a small taste to test the waters. She usually shivers and gags on a new food before deciding if she likes it. Not the case with the yogurt. She looked at me, mouth wide open, yelling "AH" which in Sophie talk means "MORE! NOW!". She finished entire container and spent the next 2 hours being the happiest she had been all day. The way to this child's heart is definitely through her stomach. She must be her father's daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-3604411952482849003?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/3604411952482849003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=3604411952482849003' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3604411952482849003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/3604411952482849003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/firsts.html' title='Firsts'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA3yKR8Rr3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/Uiz9-S-tRAo/s72-c/IMG_1426.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-6342673904404760098</id><published>2008-04-20T09:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T21:43:53.591-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The big number</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9oSB8Rr5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/UTlAUbp-yck/s1600-h/WEIGHT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9oSB8Rr5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/UTlAUbp-yck/s320/WEIGHT.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192483554349658002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that a number can reduce a women's confidence from healthy levels to somewhere in the bottom of her boots?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Jennie, and I am a scale-aholic. It is ridiculous, because I know that the big number doesn't matter as much as the body composition. I am strong and have a lot of muscle. I also know that weighing yourself 3 times a day is a very useless exercise. Why is it that I can't deny the pull of the scale when it is sitting in the bathroom? Why is it that I can be having a good day, feel comfortable in my own skin and clothes, and have that all go down the drain if I step on the scale and see a number I don't like? It is a bit of an obsession I guess. I knew I needed to get a handle on the problem, and asked for intervention. I can't go cold turkey. I asked that the scale be moved to a hiding spot in the basement, only to be brought out once a week for me to a little check-in. Eventually, I hope to be rid of the monkey on my back, until then, I can be found rummaging around the basement searching desperately for the demon in moments of weakness, wearing our my measuring tape, and trying on my pre-preggo jeans 7 times a week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: My alter ego, the healthier, happier version, preaches the importance of not being a slave to the scale, living a healthy life through exercise and clean eating, and enjoying the process of taking care of yourself. Lately, she is present a lot more often than the crazy, obsessed freak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-6342673904404760098?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/6342673904404760098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=6342673904404760098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6342673904404760098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/6342673904404760098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/big-number.html' title='The big number'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9oSB8Rr5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/UTlAUbp-yck/s72-c/WEIGHT.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-7502066072186882405</id><published>2008-04-16T08:24:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T12:51:58.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Review Wednesdays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9pJB8Rr6I/AAAAAAAAAAk/QPfgznnzHhs/s1600-h/Amazon-Donna-blonde+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9pJB8Rr6I/AAAAAAAAAAk/QPfgznnzHhs/s320/Amazon-Donna-blonde+(2).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192484499242463138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to designate Wednesdays as the day I write product reviews about anything and everything. I have a lot of (mostly useless) opinions about products and I feel the world needs to read them ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my reviews are health &amp; fitness related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My latest addiction isn't a product, but a blog. I am infatuated with fitness and nutrition research/info/books/magazines/blogs/studies....I really should be teeny tiny, but I digress. I stumbled across this blog by an ottawa physician, Yoni Freedhoff, who owns the Bariatric Medical Institute here in Ottawa. BMI specializes in obesity management and healthy living through nutrition and exercise. While I can't comment on the effectiveness of the BMI program (I don't know of anyone who has gone there), I can definitely recommend you check out his blog, http://bmimedical.blogspot.com/. He is a great advocate for healthy living, and pulls no punches when it comes to going up against "Big Food", the canadian government, and organizations like the Heart and Stroke Foundation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 2 books that I have been enjoying recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Eat Clean Diet&lt;/span&gt; by Tosca Reno - This isn't so much a diet book, as it is a book about healthy, sensible nutrition. I am a big fan of Tosca. She's pushing 50 and has a body that women of any age would envy. Pretty cool considering she was over 200 lbs at the age of 40. She frequents Oxygen magazine and is big into weight lifting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The New Rules for Lifting for Women&lt;/span&gt; by Lou Schular - This book provides great weight lifting information and debunks a lot of common myths about women and weights. It's a good read, and the exercises are challenging and well explained. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, none of these products will do a thing for you if you don't live them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-7502066072186882405?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/7502066072186882405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=7502066072186882405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7502066072186882405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/7502066072186882405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/review-wednesdays.html' title='Review Wednesdays'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9pJB8Rr6I/AAAAAAAAAAk/QPfgznnzHhs/s72-c/Amazon-Donna-blonde+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-2713171035667887994</id><published>2008-04-13T22:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T12:56:10.231-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A day with 3 cakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9qFB8Rr7I/AAAAAAAAAAs/R9dl1XSN154/s1600-h/IMG_1386.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9qFB8Rr7I/AAAAAAAAAAs/R9dl1XSN154/s320/IMG_1386.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192485530034614194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked for no birthday cake. 0 cakes. I guess I wasn't explicit enough. Apparently, I needed to say more than "So, we aren't having any cake tomorrow....right?". That wasn't a hint to ensure I ended up with a birthday cake. Or 3 cakes. Yep, I ended up with 3 cakes. 3 chocolate cakes at that. Next year I will be sure to state "Please do not buy or make me a cake. Do not get me any cake....and definitely do not get me 3 cakes". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, in the last 24 hrs, I have consumed a large amount of cake in 3 sittings. Considering my sugar intake over the last couple of months has been quite low due to a super-clean diet, I am wired for sound right now. I can barely concentrate on my computer screen. I will wake up tomorrow morning wanting chocolate for breakfast. This means I have to start over again tomorrow with "detoxifying" my body from sugar. I hate that game. I will open the fridge door tomorrow at least 50 times, walking away empty-handed because nothing will appeal to me but sugar. By mid-afternoon, I will be ready to kill someone just for a small fix. Tonite, I am mad at the world, and myself for the cake consumption. I wish I were one of those people who could indulge and get away with it. Unfortunately, I will step on the scale tomorrow to find that my 1 day of indulgence has left me 2 lbs heavier. That's how I roll! ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so tomorrow I turn back into the super strict nutrition nut. Not because I am striving for perfection, but because my body just doesn't deal well with deviations from good fuel. I hope that once I get some green veggies and lean protein back in my system, my inner bitch will quiet down a tad. If not, I just might have to stab her with my chocolate cake covered fork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-2713171035667887994?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/2713171035667887994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=2713171035667887994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2713171035667887994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/2713171035667887994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/day-with-3-cakes.html' title='A day with 3 cakes'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9qFB8Rr7I/AAAAAAAAAAs/R9dl1XSN154/s72-c/IMG_1386.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-4231545245497999447</id><published>2008-04-13T21:53:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T13:01:04.819-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby baggage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9rQB8Rr8I/AAAAAAAAAA0/zsR--x3H8zM/s1600-h/9-26-07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9rQB8Rr8I/AAAAAAAAAA0/zsR--x3H8zM/s320/9-26-07.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192486818524803010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babies need a lot of stuff. OK, so perhaps they don't "need" a lot, but we tend to buy them a lot. &lt;br /&gt;Sophie has accumulated stuff at an alarming rate in 7 short months. It astounds me how quickly we turn things over.&lt;br /&gt;We are really lucky to be surrounded by generous friends, who passed a lot of baby gear onto Sophie, so we have been happily "paying it forward" by forwarding her goodies to other friends who are pregnant. My maternity clothes have found a couple of new home. This makes me very happy since I spent a small fortune on not looking like a hobo while preggers. Sophie's wee little clothes are now covering other little diva's butts. Her vast collection of seats, swings, vibrating rockers, jumping devices will help amuse other babies for 10 minute periods. That should help clear up some space and clutter around here right? Pffffft. As if!? Just today as I was leafing through her overstuffed drawers, I heard myself exclaim "She's got nothing to wear! I can't wait to buy her some spring clothes". It really is a good thing that I return to work in 4.5 months, because between Sophie's wardrobe needs, and my stuffed-to-the-brim-with-pre-preggo-clothes-that-either-don't -fit-or-are-out-of-style-closet, we will need one salary for clothing alone! Somedays I think it would be cheaper (and easier) to have liposuction to get rid of that last 5 lbs than buy new jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post-preggo body changes....that's a whole other blog entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-4231545245497999447?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/4231545245497999447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=4231545245497999447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4231545245497999447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4231545245497999447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/oh-baby.html' title='Baby baggage'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SA9rQB8Rr8I/AAAAAAAAAA0/zsR--x3H8zM/s72-c/9-26-07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-5705584792378842373</id><published>2008-04-11T11:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T11:23:44.450-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My final day as a 32 year old</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow, I turn 33.&lt;br /&gt;Today, I am 32. &lt;br /&gt;I am going to be soooo grown up tomorrow. Magically, overnight, I will blossom into a 33 year old. Long gone will be my carefree days of a 32 year old. I guess I should spend today relishing my final day as a young chiquita. I should do something wild, like dye my hair purple and pierce some unmentionable body parts. Maybe I will go bungee jumping, or skydiving. Or maybe Sophie and I will be really reckless and go for a walk without our mittens. Yeah, that's wild. I won't be able to do that tomorrow. I will be 33. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-5705584792378842373?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/5705584792378842373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=5705584792378842373' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5705584792378842373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/5705584792378842373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-final-day-as-32-year-old.html' title='My final day as a 32 year old'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802531612902499692.post-4594219463348841184</id><published>2008-04-11T11:09:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T11:17:01.764-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I go again</title><content type='html'>I have started and abandoned 3 different blogs over the last couple of years. That is sad. I love to sit here and dump my brain, to create space for new thoughts. Some profound, some useless, and many fluffy and frivolous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Past attempts to keep a blog going failed because I got bored of the subject matter. I would try to limit my writings to themes. I am too all-over-the-place to stick to one subject for any length of time. My attention span is a tad....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, what was I saying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This new blog will be a little bit of everything. Because I am a little bit of everything. I have varying interests, changing from day-to-day, minute-to-minute. I am sure my 7 month old will provide a lot of inspiration for for posts, since I am at home with her everyday right now, until I return to work in September. Returning to work....that will definitely provide some good fodder for my blog. See? All over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-jl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3802531612902499692-4594219463348841184?l=thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/feeds/4594219463348841184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3802531612902499692&amp;postID=4594219463348841184' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4594219463348841184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3802531612902499692/posts/default/4594219463348841184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehotmamainitiative.blogspot.com/2008/04/here-i-go-again.html' title='Here I go again'/><author><name>JL</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O77FLKEqbug/SsDuAQ1YM1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/un_glxuyHYo/S220/5574_141449550287_629375287_3693051_1028223_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
