<?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-2772144509573713017</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:48:35.319-08:00</updated><category term='me'/><category term='meetup'/><category term='making friends'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='being a mommy'/><category term='pampering'/><category term='daily annoyances'/><category term='weight loss struggle'/><category term='annoying in-laws'/><category term='my childhood'/><category term='high school thoughts about life'/><category term='little miss'/><category term='weekly meal planinng'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='twins'/><category term='hubby'/><category term='maddie'/><category term='photos'/><category term='living in the moment'/><category term='the day i started this damn thing'/><category term='bringing home the bacon'/><category term='playdates'/><category term='celebrity gossip'/><category term='church'/><category term='food'/><category term='room remod'/><category term='religion'/><category term='hair do'/><category term='mom'/><category term='chaos'/><category term='other people&apos;s cool blogs'/><category term='Scentsy'/><category term='recipes'/><category term='being thirty'/><category term='married life'/><category term='giveaways'/><category term='girls day'/><category term='bragging about my kids'/><category term='i don&apos;t know what else to blog about'/><title type='text'>i am simply nikki</title><subtitle type='html'>Sometimes it takes a little work... ...Sometimes I'm a little lazy.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-8859031543552042667</id><published>2011-08-16T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T20:54:20.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Mommy Ride</title><content type='html'>Got myself a mommy vehicle on Sunday. The Explorer basically has taken an indefinite leave of absence. We were trying so very hard to make it last until we could afford (another) new-ish vehicle, but it just wasn't having it. It overheated on Friday on my way to pick up the boys and it was either pull over to cool it down and be late to pick them up, or drive it hot. I drove it hot. Done. The car is done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, the hubby and I went out van shopping. That's right bitches, VAN. I got me a hot little soccer-mom minivan, and I really actually love it. It's bright red with sleek black interior. It fits all my kids and they can hardly even touch each other. The big boy twins can sit all the way in the back and I can barely hear them (hallelujah!). Kinsey sits in one of the middle captain chairs so I can still reach her to buckle in and out, hand her sippies, or toys, but she isn't close enough to kick me in the back. It came equipped with a neat-o little "mommy mirror" too, so I can easily see all hands and feet! So, even if they try to (kick) reach each other I will catch them! Not a bad deal at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;c&gt;Here she is in all her glory, Cherry!&lt;/c&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q7XLoOrsN_g/Tks7NXFDrqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/YJWhG4CXBKs/s1600/2011-08-14%2BNew%2BRide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q7XLoOrsN_g/Tks7NXFDrqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/YJWhG4CXBKs/s320/2011-08-14%2BNew%2BRide.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641668058931244706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-8859031543552042667?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/8859031543552042667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2011/08/new-mommy-ride.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8859031543552042667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8859031543552042667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2011/08/new-mommy-ride.html' title='New Mommy Ride'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q7XLoOrsN_g/Tks7NXFDrqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/YJWhG4CXBKs/s72-c/2011-08-14%2BNew%2BRide.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-6373815791089819963</id><published>2011-08-09T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T09:05:55.508-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chaos'/><title type='text'>Starting Kindergarten &amp; Preschool!</title><content type='html'>I'm horrible at this thing. I really want to be better... I do. Here's a quick update, because I'm pretty sure I'm running late for something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys started Kindergarten last week. We are now on to week two. It was rough for me at first, but not too rough... now it seems the 7 hours go by way too fast. They are tired and looney when they get home. My life is at full speed and full chaos. We get home and two days a week have to rush off to TaeKwonDo, do homework, make dinner, take baths on bath nights, read stories, and go to bed. I'm completely screwed up if I don't make their lunch the night before. Twice I have waited until the morning and that just doesn't work. I forgot to put their juice boxes in the freezer (that double as ice packs), their water bottles in the fridge, and then I'm too busy making sandwiches to make sure they are using their toothbrush to brush their teeth and not as light sabers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I dropped them off with a friend from 5p-7p so I could go out for some mommy time... BAD IDEA. We didn't get homework done and I didn't make their lunch like I thought I would when I got home (I did throw the JB's in the freezer though! GO ME!). This morning not only did we wake up late because of the later bedtime, but I was making lunch while they were getting ready, and as we're walking out the door realized Cayden didn't do his homework. So, this morning the boys got their first tardy slips. We pulled in the parking lot at 8am on the dot, but by the time we got the slips the office admin of course noted it was 8:10... according to their clock. Funny thing, it said 8:05a on my cell phone when I got back to my car. Anyway, second week and our prefect attendance is ruin forever. Bad mom moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got Kinsey enrolled in preschool yesterday. She starts the end of this month. I'm scared. Scared for her teacher. This girl can throw some adult sized tantrums! But, we need to get her to follow directions, and get away from me. She would glue herself to my hip if it were possible. She loves her some mommy. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-6373815791089819963?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/6373815791089819963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2011/08/starting-kindergarten-preschool.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/6373815791089819963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/6373815791089819963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2011/08/starting-kindergarten-preschool.html' title='Starting Kindergarten &amp; Preschool!'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-664147400377383372</id><published>2010-08-03T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T08:03:00.520-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight loss struggle'/><title type='text'>On Top of the World!</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to think of someone who would truly understand what my recent weight loss means. Not just someone who was heavy, and lost a lot of weight, no not that, but MY personal struggle. Someone who watched me struggle, and knows how much this meant to me to lose this weight. I've been with my husband for 5 years, have had 3 kids with him, and he has definitely seen every part of me inside and out. He's seen me at my thinnest (since gaining the 80+ pounds I gained, not my thinnest in life), and he has seen me at my heaviest, when no one else has. He should understand more than anyone. He is just preoccupied with work it's not satisfying when I tell him. I don't know why other than that, and he's a man he is thin as hell. He is very proud of me, don't get me wrong. I love the comments he makes, and how it makes me feel trust me. Maybe I just want to shout it and everyone be in awe, "I DID IT!". I'm not to my goal yet, but I'm so close. Closer than I've ever been before... 36lbs close. I lowered my goal also, so technically I'm even closer to what my original goal was. (I lowered my goal weight to give me a healthy "normal weight" BMI.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am no longer 80lbs over weight. I'm no longer 200 or above. 220lbs is now a number I will never see on the scale. I am only 36lbs over weight. I am no longer THAT FAT. I feel great, and think I look a million times better, but I still have a ways to go. This belly is going to be a killer to get rid of. I'm just tickled, and so excited to get to my goal weight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though let me tell you... I'm soooo mother effing sick of dieting!!!! UGH! I don't even know how I do it anymore, I feel like a drone. 36lbs Nikki 36lbs... so close. I can do this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-664147400377383372?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/664147400377383372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2010/08/on-top-of-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/664147400377383372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/664147400377383372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2010/08/on-top-of-world.html' title='On Top of the World!'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-8438066986288112892</id><published>2010-07-28T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T10:06:26.009-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='making friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meetup'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='playdates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='being a mommy'/><title type='text'>The Law of Making New Friends through a Playgroup</title><content type='html'>Ahh the trials and tribulations of finding a play-date group to not only fit your child(ren), but to fit you as well. As I have posted about this before, &lt;a href="http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/best-friend-dilemma.html"&gt;making friends as an adult&lt;/a&gt;, this is very hard to accomplish! This year, however, I learned it's really not at all. It just requires a little bit of effort... on YOUR part (your being the person in place of looking for friends, like myself). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living in Central Phoenix, where it wasn't a family oriented suburb, but yet an urban city, there were no friends to find. So, to my excitement, when we relocated to a West-side Phoenix neighborhood I was THRILLED at the idea of updating my profile on meetup.com, and finding a new "mommy" group, because at this stage it was for mommy more so than my three kids. And I did just that! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I found was an amazing group, welcoming, friendly, kids in similar age, women in similar situations, work-o-holic husbands (so we could stay home), crazy kids, and not enough money for the necessary martinis to get us through. I found women who liked my company, as I did theirs. I felt accepted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why is it I just now found a group I connected with? Is it really because I didn't connect with the groups I have joined in the past (shortly after having the twins)? I was home one night talking to my husband, and I told him I realized what it is! I'm older, my kids are older. I'm not a 23 year old new mom trying to fit in with 30 year old new, or experienced moms. However, for as much as I thought that had to be the reason, that's not it at all. The reason is, I had been so deprived of socialization, I jumped into this new group full force! I attended every single meet-up event, participated as much as possible, went on the message boards daily, found members on Facebook, added them, and commented on their comments. They were forced to love, and want me... they had no choice. I was in their face. (Luckily, I'm pretty easy to love, I think ;-) Come to find out this is what it's all about, being involved. Until you have been friends for a long time, you cannot go weeks, or months without seeing someone, and expect there to still be the same closeness when the relationship is so new. Not only that, but to "groups" specifically, you cannot join one not attend meet-ups, and expect to have the same closeness as the women who saw each other the day before, and the day before that, etc... I am not saying you must attend every single meet-up, or even be super active forever for that matter. I am, however, saying that you must attend several in the beginning to build that trust, and foundation among one another. The beginning being about the first 3 months from the time you join, and participate in my opinion, but I am no expert! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My theory is, forget about cliques, forget about not fitting in. We all have one big thing in common, we'll get along somehow, we're all mother's learning as we go. So, clique-shmique... no, but in order to feel connected, you MUST participate. I don't care how old you are, how many kids you have, whether you stay home, or work, whether you wear make-up or not, wear trendy clothing, or sweats and tees, if you do not see your new found friends on a regular basis, they cannot be your new found friends. It's just reality. (An additional reality is, you have to friendly, nice, non-judgmental, because if you're not than you have bigger problems that just finding friends.) You cannot be friends with people you do not spend time with. When you join a group, and feel left out, think about that, because the girls you may accuse of being "cliquey" just have more to talk about. They see each other on a regular basis, and conversations carry over to the next play-date. I can say this, because I've been on both sides of the fence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-8438066986288112892?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/8438066986288112892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2010/07/group-ettiquiet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8438066986288112892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8438066986288112892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2010/07/group-ettiquiet.html' title='The Law of Making New Friends through a Playgroup'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-4750479732911433182</id><published>2010-06-07T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T18:18:48.033-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daily annoyances'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i don&apos;t know what else to blog about'/><title type='text'>Exhausted</title><content type='html'>I'm exhausted, and just want a vacation. The End.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-4750479732911433182?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/4750479732911433182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2010/06/exhausted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4750479732911433182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4750479732911433182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2010/06/exhausted.html' title='Exhausted'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-4366724934978586178</id><published>2010-06-02T14:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T14:55:10.410-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight loss struggle'/><title type='text'>3 days short of a year later...</title><content type='html'>I fell off the face of blog world, and I have no idea how it happened. Lots of changes, so where were we? Last June was like another world for me. Our business, that had just opened, is now over a year old, and doing extremely well. So well in fact that we are in the works of opening store number 2. Just sent our broker the financial statements last week. Working out the kinks, and then back to disappearing husband it goes! He's been home a lot more lately, but that's all about to go back to normal soon. We moved to a newer and improved house in February. My younger sister moved in with us in January. This is the main reason I got to move into the new and improved house really, and it was welled planned on my part trust me. Would you believe the husband and I actually missed the old shit hole house for awhile?! People are just never satisfied, are they? Creatures of habit I tell ya. Then Little Miss promptly turned two on February 1st, which was also moving day. She conked out long before the frosting was put on the cake. I have a picture of a sleeping 2 year old on the couch, and an untouched cake on the counter. That was the extent of any birthday celebration for her unfortunately. Next year we'll go all out, and actually let her have some cake though I promise! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm contemplating that this next subject deserves a post of it's own, but since we're here already... The biggest, and best news (for me personally) is I have now, as of today, lost 55lbs! Not only is that a feat in itself, but this is the biggest victory of all, I am under 200lbs! After 8 years, almost a decade of diets, tears, sweat, maybe a little blood I am FINALLY under 200, and never going back! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Little Miss is up, screaming. (Did I mention she is two?) Maybe this is why it's been a year...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-4366724934978586178?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/4366724934978586178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2010/06/3-days-short-of-year-later.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4366724934978586178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4366724934978586178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2010/06/3-days-short-of-year-later.html' title='3 days short of a year later...'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-5667420423162225676</id><published>2009-06-05T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T10:28:59.986-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daily annoyances'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little miss'/><title type='text'>Frustration is</title><content type='html'>What must I do to make my husband pick up after himself? I should change my profile to say raising 4! (Except then I couldn't write under 3. LOL) I'm not going to be able to keep that under 3 up there much longer as the twins turn 3 in July. so maybe I'll change it after their birthday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave all 3 kids a bath this morning. I always bring the kids up on my bed after for lotion, cleaning ears, and cutting nails. Then we kind of snuggle, hang out, and watch tv. So, Little Miss is on my bed, and I leave for a second, and come back to find what...??? Dear Husband had left his cereal cup on the headboard. Little Miss decided she'd take it and try to drink from the bigger-than-her-head cup. My newly bathed little girl is now covered from chin to knees in left over cereal milk. Her nice clean (cute) outfit is now in the wash. Excuse me while I go hose off my daughter now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-5667420423162225676?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/5667420423162225676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/06/frustration-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/5667420423162225676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/5667420423162225676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/06/frustration-is.html' title='Frustration is'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-1068346604980994319</id><published>2009-05-29T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T22:26:05.907-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daily annoyances'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='annoying in-laws'/><title type='text'>Annoyance for the day</title><content type='html'>When my father-in-law always says we leave lights on in the house everywhere (which we don't). First of all, you don't pay the damn bill. Second of all, I have 2 two year old boys as tall as fifth graders who like to turn lights on (and off). So, if you want to go around following them and turning them off be my guest. Don't fucking bitch about how many lights I have on in my damn house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-1068346604980994319?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/1068346604980994319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/05/annoyance-for-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1068346604980994319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1068346604980994319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/05/annoyance-for-day.html' title='Annoyance for the day'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-614239070960935339</id><published>2009-05-29T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T14:54:11.717-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='being thirty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i don&apos;t know what else to blog about'/><title type='text'>Why I can't wait to be thirty</title><content type='html'>I've said for the longest time that I can't wait to turn thirty. Everyone always looks at me funny, especially my husband. I say that, mainly because I feel like a kid still. I'm a mom of three, but a kid. The funniest part, is I am, and always have been, more mature for my age. I've dealt with a lot in my life, and I pretty much raised myself. I don't choose conflict when I could, and I always take the higher road. (I like to think I do anyway.) I like to have fun, don't get me wrong. Sometimes I act goofy, and sometimes I make bad choices. Overall I liek to think of myself as mature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I go to mommy-groups I'm always the youngest. I never connect with anyone, because who needs an older "daughter" when their looking for friends. It doesn't help that my budget bracket is extremely low, I'm not a home owner, and let's face it I'm under experienced. I can't wait to be thirty, and my kids are 6 &amp; 7 so I cross over into the more experienced mom catagory. Even if I act like a kid at thirty I'll be an adult. Yeah you're legal at 18 or 21, but your not truly an "adult" until 30. Because through most of your 20's your in college, then you're settling down, and then just having babies. At 30 your graduated (typically lol), married, and your kids are 5+. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why, because I don't have any prior experience with kids, but always felt I was this beyond fabulous mother. I was confident is really all it was. Had no idea what I was doing, but I was confident that I did. And I did well. My babies made it. And 3 and 1 they are doing pretty good. However, I and a problem thinking I was a better parent than other people because I had so much confidence in what I was doing. I made my kids eat healthy food, I limited sugary drinks and fatty, empty calorie snacks, I taught them manners, and made them behave. They are well behaved, so whatever I did I did it right, but in all reality I had no idea what I was doing! I have no idea as to how to handle a 4 year old or 5 year old, a teenager, etc... I can't wait to be thirty to have that experience under my belt (not the teenager, that will be 40, but that's going overboard. LOL) So, that I won't be looked down upon as a kid. I can't wait to be thirty. Four more years to go. Oh and I also can't wait to be thirty because then my husband and I have made it 7 years, and that's huge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-614239070960935339?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/614239070960935339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-i-cant-wait-to-be-thirty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/614239070960935339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/614239070960935339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-i-cant-wait-to-be-thirty.html' title='Why I can&apos;t wait to be thirty'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-7689448218702807483</id><published>2009-05-26T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T21:49:40.465-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrity gossip'/><title type='text'>My take on Jon &amp; Kate</title><content type='html'>The internet is BUZZING with rumors, disgust, and just all around talk about the TLC "reality" show Jon &amp; Kate Plus 8. (I don't feel like linking, if you want to know and don't just google it.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let me put a disclaimer on this post: I do not know these people. I don't know what is "really" going on, whether it's real or staged or who is hurt and who is lying. This is all just my thoughts on all the drama. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost I hate to see any family divorce. It's hard on EVERYONE. The kids, the spouses, families, and in this case (fans?). However, divorce is common. It happened to my family, and it happens to a huge percent of families all over the world. It's not typically the end of the world. The kids will be confused and hurt, but as they grow up will understand. And quite possibly, they may come to resent mom or dad for however or whatever happened (meaning if it was because they decided to "sign their life away" to TLC). That will be their issue though (Jon &amp; Kate's not the kids), and only they will know. Because, honestly I don't think anyone really knows except them and possibly TLC, right? Jodie (sister) and Julie (sister in law or something like that) can say whatever they want, but who's to say what they are saying is real? Why should we believe them anymore than Kate (or Jon)? Why, because why lie about the bad truth?! Maybe because they are pissed Kate wouldn't let them make money off the show? Which people are also upset about. Because every rich person shares their wealth with their family, right? Pfft right.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My take on Jon &amp; Kate: Everyone, that I have discussed this with, is quick to take Jon's side. Kate is a bitch (we all have seen it, have you seen me after a long day dealing with 3 kids and a husband that isn't helping as much as I think he should be? I think I'd be an super bitch with 8!), she only cares about the money ($60k-80k an episode wouldn't make you care?), and is a horrible person for putting her kids through this and kicking all family out of their life. People are angry because she is focusing on her career (which in this case yes, happens to involve the entire family. However, I'm more talking about the stuff she does away from home like the book tour), and is leaving Jon at home with *gasp* ALL 8 kids! (Might I remind you they are now all 5 and up.) How come no one thought it sucked that Jon worked so much and she was at home with them all day everyday when they were babies, toddlers, and preschoolers?! Have you raised multiples or siblings?! Do you know how hard it is? How frustrating it is to be stuck at home, and never get away? I don't care if TLC was paying for every vacation or remodel. If you are always with these little kids, as much as you love them, it wears you out. And she did it for four years. He's done it for 6-8 months and already is calling out divorce (or drunken nights with college girls!?). Has anyone stopped to think about this? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm not saying she is making good choices, but I am saying cut her some slack. The income they make from TLC is what provides for them, is what makes their life EASY. However, if it came down to the money or my marriage well honey, you better believe I'd tell them to take it and shove it. BUT I'd wonder why my husband wasn't on board? Is it because he doesn't like being photographed with the college girls on the weekends, or because he worries about his kids? What really is the issue? He didn't seem to have a problem the first three (and half?) seasons when he got to leave every day and go to work. But now that he is stuck at home with the kids he's "not himself" and "might as well be in prison" WELCOME TO MY LIFE BABY DOLL! And every other stay-at-home parent out there. I just don't think people realize this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What ever is going on, I just hope they think about their kids, because that is truly what is important. And at this point I don't think even ending the show would save their marriage. Like Kate says "Jon's upset we can't go back", and she's right he is, but instead of running and all that try to compromise and make adjustments. However, personally I think she is too into doing the show to give it up, and he has just had enough. I get that. I couldn't imagine trying to run from the paparazzi. It's like you can't get air, but he should have thought about that from day one, not season four (or five now)... why is he still on it then!?!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as far as the sisters go... well who the fuck knows about that. One writes about how awful it is for the kids, the other writes about how fake it is. I think they are just both pissed they don't get in on the dough from it (again why now at season four/five after they got kicked off!?! It wasn't bad for the kids when they were younger?). I think it's fake, and I'm sure there's scripting. Who wants to watch any family (especially of 10) watch TV or eat hot dogs? No, there's gotta be something interesting going on. I think Kate is selfish, but when you have a carrot in front of your face sometimes you lose sight of other things. I think Jon is just out of touch, and the responsibility of 8 kids has hit him. He was 23 when they had the 6... twenty three! At 22 and 26 my husband and I freaked out about having 2 at once. I'm a bitch to him when he "disappears" during events with the kids where I need him, and I nag and I bitch and I nag. The difference... my poor husband doesn't have any proof because we aren't on TV. Lastly, as far as rumors stating that Jodie isn't on the show because Kate didn't want her to make any money from it... again... people... come on. If that's the truth, well then that's Kate for ya. Remember this people will say ANYTHING to hurt ANYBODY. Especially family. We all know it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch their show or don't watch their show. It doesn't matter, because somebody always will until they don't, and then it will die out. Why do you think we have 8 "____ of Love" shows on MTV? Because people like reality TV &amp; drama. Networks will MILK it forever and at whatever cost. As I said before, I just hope Jon &amp; Kate think about their kids. (I'm not saying I think them being put on TV is bad or child abuse, because I don't. There are a MILLION child actors/stars which also doesn't make it right, but I'm not here to start that all up. What I am saying is that I hope they make the right decision in their marriage, and that someone compromises, and they do what is best for the kids and partly themselves, because no one should live miserably.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-7689448218702807483?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/7689448218702807483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-take-on-jon-kate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/7689448218702807483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/7689448218702807483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-take-on-jon-kate.html' title='My take on Jon &amp; Kate'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-8924360683754401454</id><published>2009-05-19T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T11:19:20.846-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little miss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i don&apos;t know what else to blog about'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Been gone a long time</title><content type='html'>I mean both from blogging, and just life itself. I feel like I'm disconnected. Things are looking better now. Husband was gone from sun up to sun down the last 3 weeks because of the store we're opening. I took the kids and we went to Tennessee to visit family for a full week. It was fun, exhausting, stressful, and more fun. The kids were worn out, and so was I when we got back. Finally feeling a little more adjusted. Hubs is working a more consistant (always gone) schedule, but at least I know when he'll be home. His partner and him are talking about hiring someone, but it doesn't mean he'll be home anymore. Just means he'll be able to do more for the store like order inventory, pr, set up website, and ebay store, etc... I'm adjusting to this life though. Thought of the twins starting preschool in August is keeping me sane also. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I love my kids (duh), and I love that I get to raise them, and be home. However, give me a break... they don't like being stuck in this house (because it's 120 outside in MAY!) any more than I do. Also, I look forward to giving Kinsey the one on one time she likes, as I did with the boys when they were her age. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still battling weight loss. Still depressed. Still waking up every day on a diet, and going to bed every night binging. One day, one step at a time. We'll see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just so unmotivated in life right now. It comes and goes in spurts. I hope this passes quickly. I'm not focusing on Scentsy at all, even though I have a home party this week. I'm not knitting anymore, and I miss it. All I do is watch the kids (and I mean watch), and eat. This isn't how I like my life. I can do better than this. My kids need me, and I need to get my head out of my ass... sorry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In good news we got hubs bike all fixed up ($1100 later...) which means I get my SUV back. Even though I can't leave during the day (because I babysit Monday thru Friday) I feel better just knowing it's there. I'm not on 24/7 lock down. 5:00PM rolls around, and the kids and I can go to McDonald's play place, the mall, or whatever. Every Saturday, while the hubs works, the kids and I can go swimming, the park, etc... Even if we are broker than broke, and I'm not happy with myself, and the kids are bored, a little bit of that will be better when I get my car back. I'm also looking into buying an elliptical machine to use at home, or a cheap gym membership... I need exercise to feel better. I think it will help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little update in random world...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-8924360683754401454?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/8924360683754401454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/05/been-gone-long-time.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8924360683754401454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8924360683754401454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/05/been-gone-long-time.html' title='Been gone a long time'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-1343922871645754501</id><published>2009-04-30T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T18:22:10.822-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scentsy'/><title type='text'>And the winner is...</title><content type='html'>Chrissy over at &lt;a href="http://usmyers.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Myers Family&lt;/a&gt; for &lt;a href="http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/scentsy-wickless-candle-giveaway.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; giveaway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you everyone for participating! As a thank you, I'd like to send each of you your choice in a Scentsy Car Candle. Please email me prior to 10:00PM MST  with what scent you choose. Go &lt;a href="http://scentsy.com/phx"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to see our 80 different choices in wonderful fragrances. You may comment here as well. My email is Gowickless09 at gmail dot com. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giveaway may be over, but don't hesitate to place your order for a Deluxe Scentsy Warmer today! &lt;a href="http://scentsy.com/phx"&gt;See my website here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be sure to stay tuned for more giveaways also! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;Simply Nikki&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-1343922871645754501?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/1343922871645754501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-winner-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1343922871645754501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1343922871645754501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-winner-is.html' title='And the winner is...'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-8115049527217211856</id><published>2009-04-28T11:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T14:54:11.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You have everything I ever wanted</title><content type='html'>That's what my mom said to me when she left Easter weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really? You wanted to be $20,000 in debt before age 25? Have 3 kids all under 3 by age 25? Barely pay rent, own nothing, and never see your husband? Have no car, be stuck in the house 7 days a week? Live in a state where very little of your family lives? Be over weight, but get so depressed you don't do anything about it? Be served papers for the debt you owe. Have a vehicle repossessed because it hasn't been paid on in 2 years? Have your husband laid off, no job for 6 months, on welfare &amp; government health care, and not a penny to your name? IS THIS REALLY EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANTED? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I think you had most of this most of your life, but gave it up. Aren't you lucky? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think you want everything I have, because I don't focus on the bad. I try to fix it, not far yet, but am hopeful that I can eventually. Just made some crappy decisions at the start. I put on a happy face, and try to take care of my kids. I try not to whine, and though I don't always accomplish that I try. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-8115049527217211856?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/8115049527217211856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-have-everything-i-ever-wanted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8115049527217211856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8115049527217211856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-have-everything-i-ever-wanted.html' title='You have everything I ever wanted'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-4766223063610036565</id><published>2009-04-28T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T14:54:11.728-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my childhood'/><title type='text'>The road to rainbows and glitter</title><content type='html'>I don't think I was ever promised any rainbows or glitter in this lifetime. Not sure where I get the idea that I even deserve it. I guess I just can't figure out what I'm doing wrong. Also, not sure what I should believe in. Are we dealt band hands, is Karma playing a role, and if so, why is mine so unfortunate? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was dealt a mother who's brain stopped maturing at age 12. A father who had no clue (emotionally) that he had a daughter until she turned 23, got married, and had kids. I do not have a terrible life by any means at all what-so-ever. I'm fortunate, I'm blessed, and most of all I am loved. When I tell people a little about my upbringing typically the first thing they say is "wow, and you turned out so normal". The first response I give it "well, through it all I always knew I was loved &amp; wanted". So, in raising my children it's something I make sure to pass on. I constantly tell my kids how much they mean to me, and how much I love them. I may be harsh sometimes, I'm not always the nice-guy, and sometimes I don't pay enough attention to them. However, I always tell them they are my world. Knowing actions speak louder than words I give multitudes of hugs &amp; kisses, I read to them, I look at them when they need me too, and I am sure to always set aside time for just them. I am hoping that this overrides any of the mistakes I may make during their life, and there will be lots. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my mother's were putting herself first with her boyfriends, not her children. Never knowing where we'd live, what school I'd go to, and never getting custody of my half-sister because her dad fought for her. (Mine didn't.) These things made my childhood unstable, and anxiety stricken. Drugs, fights, and unstable moods were some more. Raising my little sister when we did have her, and never knowing what would be in our future at age 12 made me grow up a little faster than I should have. But I need to give credit where credit is due. My mom made sure to teach my sister and I to cook, clean, balance a check book, pay bills, put on tasteful make-up, and be crafty also. I have memories of baking cookies, making lunch, duck parks, holidays with family, and making all kinds of fun crafts with her. We were never denied pets. We wanted a kitty we got one. A dog? Sure lets get 2. Bunnies, rats, lizards, etc... Unfortunately, I think that was because my mom was just as much a kid as we were. I remember her helping me dress for my first school dance (I looked ridiculous, but it's the thought that counted), teaching me how to dance, all 3 of us dancing to Patsy Cline in the living room. I remember getting to tag along when she had her newspaper route, and singing Wild Angels at the top of our lungs together at 4 o'clock in then morning. Sadly, as much as those times stick in my head, the rough times just cut a deeper notch in my life branch. At age 13 my world changed forever with my mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her and I were best friends... until 1996. She lost everything then. We were loving in the cottage of my grandparents house. Her and her 3rd husband (or was it 4th?) had been separated after being evicted from the only like-house we lived in. Apparently cocaine was a much better deal than rent at the time. My mom has never worked. Sporadically here and there, but never long. My grandparents, I'm guessing, were fed up with it. I was in the last part of 8th grade. About to start high school. Middle school was the first time I stayed at the same school ever. So, I had friends I now had known for at least 3 years (5th-8th). A first for me, being that I went to 10 different schools before 5th grade. My mom was kicked out, and we were going to stick together and be homeless basically, but together. About a week before this was going to happen, the reality of living in a tent, and having to go to school without showering hit me. As much as I loved my mom I couldn't be homeless. As much as I had a non-existent relationship with my father, and though he only had a 2 bedroom apartment with 4 people already, it was a roof with a shower. I broke the news to her, and to no surprise to me she was angry at me. 13 and she was angry with me for not wanting to rough it with her. "But I thought we were going to stick together through this?" I will never forget those blaming words. Like I deserted her. Like I was the one that wasn't there to provide for her emotional needs, when she couldn't even provide for my physical needs. I didn't ask for her to provide much for me, and hell I could say I didn't ask for her to have me either. I hated the times she made me wish she hadn't. My sister and I weren't ever the dream she wished we were. The kids, the husband, the house on the hill with the white picket fence. Honestly, she had us because she thought she could give us what her mother never gave her. Love. She did her best, or I like to think. What she gave us in love she lacked in stability and security though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't speak to me for almost a year after I had abandoned her. At times I wondered if she were lying dead somewhere. (And as my life progresses, unfortunately, it's not a worry I have been released of.) I didn't even know where she was. My first day of high school was without my mother. My caregiver (or supposedly) of 13 years, and she wasn't there. She wasn't there for my first kiss, first boyfriend, first prom, first anything. I think she eventually came around about the time I graduated. She was back at my grandparents by then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post could go one for days. I tried therapy to try and figure stuff out, but I'm level headed, and the therapist just agreed with me the entire time. I "turned out" okay. I wish I had turned out better than okay, but okay is better than how she turned out. There is nothing to figure out. It's just how it is. Occasionally I have a tinge of hope she'll change, but little by little I have learned better. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Luckily I have people in my life that fulfill a mother role as much as possible, and for that I am blessed with many rainbows and glitter! There just is always going to be that part of me that wished I had a relationship with my mom. It will always hurt that I don't. I just fear that as much as she tried to be different than her mother, I will try to be different than mine, and I will fail like she did. I'll never really know how horrible her childhood was, I know what mine was like, but I often believe she turned out worse. Not sure her mother ever told her she wasn't ready to be a grandma yet, like she did when I had my first children. That is a broken heart that will never mend. As crappy as she was to me sometimes, I never once doubted she'd be the one there when I had my first baby (in my case, babies). So, when she left without saying goodbye, when I heard from her dad (my grandpa) instead of her that she was leaving town, and from my sister that she had said "I am sick of hearing about the babies, and I don't want to be a grandma" I will NEVER forgive her. Nothing she had done up until that point had hurt me like that did. She could be mad at me for not being homeless with her, and wanting to live with my dad, but you will not hurt my children. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post has become much longer than I intended. Needless to say, my biggest fear as a mother is becoming like mine. I know we all say we don't want to be like our parents, but in my case I feel it a little bit stronger. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-4766223063610036565?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/4766223063610036565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/road-to-rainbows-and-glitter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4766223063610036565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4766223063610036565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/road-to-rainbows-and-glitter.html' title='The road to rainbows and glitter'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-495948191571770445</id><published>2009-04-27T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T12:05:55.414-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giveaways'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scentsy'/><title type='text'>Scentsy Wickless Candle Giveaway!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SfYA0C4vLLI/AAAAAAAAAHg/0-itlOzIt9g/s1600-h/new_products.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 203px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SfYA0C4vLLI/AAAAAAAAAHg/0-itlOzIt9g/s320/new_products.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329448103167601842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font=Sister Frisky&gt;&lt;font size=14&gt;Scentsy Wickless Candles Giveaway&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unique Scentsy Warmers use a 25-watt bulb to melt wax slowly, maximizing the fragrance time of the Scentsy Bar or Scentsy Brick. No flame, soot, or wick; making it a safe way to enjoy more than 80 Scentsy fragrances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You notice something different about Scentsy the first time you smell it - it's simple! An elegant ceramic warmer, a highly fragrant scent bar, and with a simple flick of the switch, your room is filled with one of Scentsy's unique fragrances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://scentsy.com/phx"&gt;Check out my website!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hosting my own Scentsy Giveaway! Here's how to win your choice of product packs in a Scentsy Giveaway Pack! Packs consist of your choice of fragrances in 6 Scentsy Car Candles ($15 value) &lt;b&gt;or&lt;/b&gt; 2 Car Candles &amp; 1 Room Spray ($14 value) &lt;b&gt;or&lt;/b&gt; 1 Scentsy Plug in Warmer &amp; 1 Scentsy Bar ($20 value!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Go &lt;a href="http://scentsy.com/phx"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt; and browse our online products. Tell me which Scentsy Warmer you'd order for your home. Tell me which one in the comments on this entry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Follow me on &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/miss__nikki"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt; &amp; Twitter about the giveaway for an extra entry. (If you already follow me, just twitter about the giveaway) Be sure to tell me you've followed me in the comments, and so I can follow you back! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Post about it in your blog, and leave a comment with a link to your blog post for an extra entry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Receive &lt;b&gt;3&lt;/b&gt; extra entries for placing a Scentsy order now, Hosting a Scent Event, and/or becoming a Scentsy Consultant! (You'll get even more free stuff by becoming a consultant and/or hosting an event!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giveaway ends Friday April 30th. Get your Mother's Day orders in by Friday for guaranteed delivery! Great Mother's Day gift, and great way to get extra entries in giveaway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;PLEASE be sure to leave your email address, so I can contact you if you win. Winner will be announced by 7pm on Friday, April 30th 2009.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-495948191571770445?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/495948191571770445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/scentsy-wickless-candle-giveaway.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/495948191571770445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/495948191571770445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/scentsy-wickless-candle-giveaway.html' title='Scentsy Wickless Candle Giveaway!'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SfYA0C4vLLI/AAAAAAAAAHg/0-itlOzIt9g/s72-c/new_products.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-8012299562820343337</id><published>2009-04-21T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T14:54:11.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate being alone</title><content type='html'>I love my alone time, but my entire life I have been surrounded by a large family. Siblings, parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc... We were always with family on vacations, holidays, birthdays, summers, weekends, whenever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since moving to Arizona where I have exactly 2 family members in the Phoenix area I have been lonely. Now I have my husband and kids and still no family to have them be with. I want to move. Closer to more family. Which inevitably would be Tennessee, because that is were the greatest quantity of family members reside. 90% of my dad's side lives there, and Tim's grandma (maternal) and aunt live there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only dilemma is that I can't bear to leave the 2 family members I have here. My aunt, who is actually my great aunt, is like a mother to me, and grandmother to my kids. I would be incredibly sad to leave her and lose that closeness. Incredibly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it here though. I really do. I want all my family in one spot. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-8012299562820343337?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/8012299562820343337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-hate-being-alone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8012299562820343337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8012299562820343337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-hate-being-alone.html' title='I hate being alone'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-3675218804165073883</id><published>2009-04-21T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T12:00:53.656-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='other people&apos;s cool blogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giveaways'/><title type='text'>A Giveaway from The Benner Daily!</title><content type='html'>Because I &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; want one of these camera straps, I'm entering another contest to win one! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shealynn makes adorable camera straps, go check them out &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5114995"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter her give away to win one &lt;a href="http://shealynnbenner.blogspot.com/2009/04/finally-giveaway.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fingers crossed that I win!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-3675218804165073883?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/3675218804165073883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/giveaway-from-benner-daily.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/3675218804165073883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/3675218804165073883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/giveaway-from-benner-daily.html' title='A Giveaway from The Benner Daily!'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-2499605310531274623</id><published>2009-04-18T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T23:10:55.763-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maddie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little miss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>11 O'Clock and I'm in tears</title><content type='html'>I'm in tears reading about &lt;a href="http://remembermaddie.com"&gt;Maddie&lt;/a&gt;. I never knew her, and never will know her. I don't know her parents, and yet I am just beside myself with their story. And how on Earth that beautiful little girl was taken away from her loving parents way before her time? Not a day has gone by since I heard about her passing that I don't stop to think about her, or read a little bit more about her short life. It just brings me to tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never understand why this kind of pain happens. I will never understand why children are hurt or die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter was born premature, my pregnancy was high-risk, and I was advised that my daughter may not make it through the pregnancy. Though I find it hard to believe in a God that would take away a wonderful, beautiful child such as Maddie from her loving parents, I thank Him everyday for the gift that is my daughter. She was born small, but with no health problems, and I am thankful. Everyday. I am also thankful for my handsome twin boys of course, as they were a high-risk pregnancy also.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-2499605310531274623?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/2499605310531274623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/11-oclock-and-im-in-tears.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/2499605310531274623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/2499605310531274623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/11-oclock-and-im-in-tears.html' title='11 O&apos;Clock and I&apos;m in tears'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-1108678775227622299</id><published>2009-04-17T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T23:19:23.570-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='married life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bringing home the bacon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>I have a husband, I swear.</title><content type='html'>My husband as of last Monday became a business owner. He opened up a retail store on the west side of town. He has been MIA since. I think he still exists, but I have yet to see proof. He's gone ALL THE TIME. I miss him, and I miss my brain. I've lost my mind, and it must be with the hubby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is always out doing things for the store, and soon (once the doors open) he will be AT the store. I use to complain that he was never home when he worked a 9-5, but worked over-time. He was always home for dinner, and bed-time routine, and every weekend. His over-time was 30 minutes here, maybe an hour every once in awhile. I'm looking toward a future of no dinner with the hubby for the next year unless I eat at 9pm. Putting the kids to bed by myself, every single night. Having to explain to them that daddy is at work, and that is why he can't tuck you in, read you a story, or give ni-night kisses. It breaks my heart. It also drives me insane, because he was my helping hand at dinner time, brushing teeth, reading bedtime stories, and tuck ins. He kept them out of my hair while dinner was being finished up, or I was doing dishes. He's my partner, and I desperately miss him, and it's not even bad yet. He will be gone every night soon. The only day we get is Sunday. And I expect a lot of outside errands will need to be done this day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of focusing on the fact that I will soon be a single mommy. I try to focus on how wonderful my kids are, and how fortunate I am to have a husband willing to bust his ass so that I can raise our children. How much this will make our life easier in the long haul. How amazing my husband is for reaching for his goals, and achieving them. But I'm not perfect. For moments that I need him, and he isn't here I completely forget how awesome he is, or how awesome the kids are. I curse him in my head, and want to throw things. I often whisper to myself that if I wanted to raise kids by myself I would have, but that I chose to be married with kids not alone. Then I take a deep breath and try to remember the good. But for a few moments everyday I curse my MIA husband. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never know how he sold me on the idea of owning our own business equaling him being home more. Having kids rots your brain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-1108678775227622299?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/1108678775227622299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-have-husband-i-swear.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1108678775227622299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1108678775227622299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-have-husband-i-swear.html' title='I have a husband, I swear.'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-5177870665894923936</id><published>2009-04-03T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T16:39:51.031-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='living in the moment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little miss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>I try to smile more every day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/Sdack5palKI/AAAAAAAAAGI/LABcqQe00rk/s1600-h/P1060742.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/Sdack5palKI/AAAAAAAAAGI/LABcqQe00rk/s200/P1060742.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320612167548572834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that everything in life is "I hate that I have to do this now, but I'm going to miss it when it's gone"? For example, every child (well most) hate taking naps when they are young. Every parents wishes they could  take one, or at least do so without the quilt of whatever else isn't getting done. I put my 14 month old daughter down for a nap just now (at 4pm) and as I shut off the light, tucker her in, I remember the same feeling I use to get when my mom put me down for a nap (at a much older age of course), and at that very moment I wished I could have enjoyed it like I would now. That dimly lit room, where the last of the sun is trying ever so hard to get through the curtains, and you're sleepy, but not tired. Just turning the light off in her room gave me this feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started thinking about high school, and how that's the same thing. Now granted I don't ever want to go back to the awkward moments of high school. Like where I thought color changing shoes were cool... no. However, knowing what I know now I'd love to be given the opportunity to appreciate it as much as I do now. The value education holds, and how far I could have gone if I had only realized this sooner. How much I'd love to learn about the history of the world, just to feel smarter. Regardless that I stay home with my kids everyday, I want to be smarter. Lucky me I can learn whatever I want, but I don't get much time since I'm wrapped up in trying to take that nap I mentioned above. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/Sdac5GhI_ZI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/mqHfZ8hABKI/s1600-h/P1060678.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/Sdac5GhI_ZI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/mqHfZ8hABKI/s200/P1060678.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320612514600910226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else in life is like this? College, your first car, what you do with your savings money, credit cards, etc... A lot having to do with financial planning, but that's me personally. There's plenty of people that made much better choices than I did. The nap thing is something that everyone took for granted as a kid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I wonder, since I realize this now will I learn from it? Will I appreciate things that I typically wouldn't appreciate. I can try. Mostly likely I won't, because you never notice how great something (even small things) is until it's gone. Songs &amp; stories that tell us not to left things unsaid, or not to forget to do the things you want before life ends get to me, and I try to live life like that everyday. Most days I don't though, I'll be honest. I get caught up in the "future" not the here &amp; now. My 14 month old daughter is 14 months already. I already am forgetting what it was like when she was a newborn. It went by so fast. The twins will be going into preschool this fall, and I'm so excited I can't wait. Next thing I know they'll be in the 5th grade, and I'll be left there with packed lunches wondering what the hell happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SdadCg8hsAI/AAAAAAAAAGY/NmQULdTk4Qw/s1600-h/P1060694.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SdadCg8hsAI/AAAAAAAAAGY/NmQULdTk4Qw/s200/P1060694.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320612676313919490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll end with this: live in the moment, enjoy your kids, spouse, parents, and siblings. Try not to stress too much about your future, and smile a little more often. I'm going to go spend some time with my kids instead of yelling at them to leave me alone before I lose my train of thought. Haha - Live Laugh Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-5177870665894923936?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/5177870665894923936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-try-to-smile-more-every-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/5177870665894923936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/5177870665894923936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-try-to-smile-more-every-day.html' title='I try to smile more every day'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/Sdack5palKI/AAAAAAAAAGI/LABcqQe00rk/s72-c/P1060742.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-487724655353301100</id><published>2009-04-01T14:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T15:35:46.667-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='making friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i don&apos;t know what else to blog about'/><title type='text'>Because friends should grow on trees in my backyard</title><content type='html'>First of all I ALWAYS spell dilemma wrong, thank God for spell check. I don't know why, I just always mix up the i and the e. Back on track...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't really about best friends or any issues with best friends or any friends at all. Really I'm looking to express my feelings on friends. They are a lot of work, but like all relationships totally worth it in the end. Granted it's a healthy relationship. My kids are a lot of work, well no... bad analogy. I'd boot my kids if I could too probably... JUST JOKING. I swear I wouldn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I often talk about how I wish life were like it is in the movies. It's the only part of me that is crazy and unrealistic, but in reality it's far from who I am typically. I allow this one fantasy, because I'm pretty level headed the rest of the time. So, in addition to wanting to be the cool mom where all her kid's friends hang out, I also want to have the house where all my girlfriends gather. I long to have such good girlfriends that they don't knock when they come in. They just do. They don't call, or have to schedule "meet ups" eight weeks in advance (I seriously have a girlfriend I'm suppose to hang out with on the 19th... and this was planned weeks ago... who the hell knows what they will be doing 2 months in advance?!), nope, just stop by on a regular basis. Watch tv together, cook together, have date nights together, family outings and vacations together, you know movie stuff. Or am I completely out of the loop, and everyone does have this, but me? My aunt in TN has friends like this. Every time I call her she's got someone over. She has family over for dinner, and friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See then there is a part of me that is so super glad I have only a few friends, and none that live within a 45 mile radius from me. I'm lazy (read title). Having friends is work. You have to hang out with them to reassure them that you like them. I'm horrible at keeping in touch, so if they don't contact me chances are we will lose contact. It's not always this way, just usually during the first stage of friendship. If it surpasses that new stage then it's all good. I have a friend who lives a couple of hours away we won't talk for weeks sometimes even months, and then all of a sudden one of us calls the other and it's like we never missed a beat. Her &amp; I are one in the same... she should live next door to me. I don't know how to meet my neighbors, and most of them are 80 and up. But I'm just like every other girl. I need girlfriends. I love catching up, hanging out, shopping, just someone to talk to that is female. My sister lives far away, I'm not close to my mom, and my cousin who was going to move here is now not. I live in what I call a deserted island of Central Phoenix. Everyone else either lives west side or east side. Then I wonder if all the new friends I meet don't keep in contact because they don't like me. I often wonder if I'm hard to get along with. I personally don't think so, but don't we all say that? I know for sure I don't mean to be if I am. I try to please everyone, and I'm genuinely nice. I do things when I can, help when I can, offer a hand, etc... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you meet someone for the first time, let's say at a mommy group, do you call them later? Is there a 3 day rule? LOL jk. I met some nice girls at a mommy group, but now my schedule doesn't allow for me to go to any meet ups. Most women already have their friends. Oh and fitting in with their friends once you are friends is a whole new one too. All this stuff is complicated. At the end of the day I'm thankful for my family, tell myself I don't need anymore friends, and be on my way. Deep down I'm lying. I want friends. I want friends that live close, will come to my house, and do things with my family. I love to host get togethers, but for some reason I always fail miserably. Is there a meet new people host a get together book out there? If so, I need it. But let's start with finding friends in the first place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband and I were out at the community garage sale last year, where we met Holly &amp; her husband (can't remember his name). Hubs talked to them more than I did, as he was buying speaker boxes from them. Well, he ended up getting their number, and ended on the note we should all hang out. I think they text him once saying "let's get together this weekend". Well, it was right before Thanksgiving, right before Hubs lost his job, and our trip to bear country. Needless to say, we never hung out with them, and we haven't heard from them since. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last month I rented a booth for Scentsy at a consignment sale, and met some new people there. Got some of their contacts, even emailed one (I think LOL!), and nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to mommy groups constantly, never click with anyone, and like I said everyone has their friends already. I don't know what the hell the point of a mommy group is anyway. I think there is something seriously wrong with me. One of my friends (also a mommy of twins) I met through a mommy group years ago, and we have gotten very close (probably too close sometimes). For the life of me, other than she was the ONLY person to show up to a playdate I hosted, I cannot remember how we continued to be friends. Did she call/contact me? Did I contact her? Did I go to one of her playdates? I vaguely remember she invited me to her cookie party, and I brought my husband along because we set him up with her husband on a mandate... that's right. I think that is how it started. Now this girl's got lots of friends, so I was just lucky enough to be taken in. Honestly, if it weren't for her I wouldn't have any friends within a 100 mile radius (she's the one that's 45mi away). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always say I can't wait until I turn 30. You may laugh, but so far being under 30 has sucked, because everyone I meet with kids close in age to mine are 30+. And they don't like me. When I'm 30 my kids will be only enough to have been in school for awhile, and sports or other activities, and if I don't make friends then well I'll just call it quits. I think what gets to me, is I'm very outgoing, not shy at all, and love to meet new people. I sure as hell married the wrong guy that's for sure. My husband has less friends than I do, and is 10x more lazy. I just need to start putting myself out there, and most of all keep in contact.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-487724655353301100?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/487724655353301100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/best-friend-dilemma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/487724655353301100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/487724655353301100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/04/best-friend-dilemma.html' title='Because friends should grow on trees in my backyard'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-4362098710898049735</id><published>2009-03-24T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T11:33:50.590-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weekly meal planinng'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Easiest chicken recipe ever.</title><content type='html'>Here's my dedication to becoming a better housewife. I give you recipes. (Off the back of the mayo jar.) Just kidding (about the housewife part, not the mayo part that part's true). I'm an awesome housewife. I cook, clean, organize, grocery shop on a budget, find things when they're lost, make appointments, remind everyone of what they need to do, I'm supportive, and well you get the point. I'm good. With the help and recommendation of a &lt;a href="http://usmyers.blogspot.com/"&gt;friend&lt;/a&gt; I started planning the weeks dinners on Sunday, and made out my grocery list to accommodate said dinners. I use to HATE cooking. Mostly because I'm indecisive, and hated the clean up. Since starting to plan my weeks out ahead I have began to &lt;b&gt;love&lt;/b&gt; cooking. So, when 4pm rolls around on Wednesday my exhausted brain doesn't have to &lt;i&gt;decide&lt;/i&gt; what's for dinner. LOVE IT. I love finding new and yummy recipes, I love recipe swapping (please feel free to do so!), and I love feeling so organized and possibly so domesticated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My aunt, who is a wonderful cook, called to tell me there was a very simple, but yummy recipe on the back of the mayo jar. I ignored her for about a week (meaning I just didn't make it), and then this week she reminded me of it. Probably after I complained that I didn't know what to make. Things have been crazy around here since my husband is trying to start his own business, and so I've been slacking also. Well, I'm getting my butt into gear! Sort of. Anyway, I totally planned out this week, but somewhere along the lines got messed up and didn't have anything to make. This is when I probably complained to my aunt, and was reminded of the mayo recipe. So, I made it. She is a blessing, always is, and never fails. The recipe was a breeze, yummy, and I will make it again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sharing: (not that you couldn't find it o the back of the mayo jar either, but whatev)&lt;br /&gt;Original recipe found &lt;a href="http://www.bestfoods.com/recipe_detail.aspx?RecipeID=8366&amp;Version=1"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parmesan Crusted Chicken&lt;br /&gt;Prep time: like 2 minutes&lt;br /&gt;Cook time: 20-25 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup Best Foods Real Mayonnaise (and I bet you could use the light or Olive Oil kind and it would be just as good!)&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese&lt;br /&gt;4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves&lt;br /&gt;4 tsp. Italian seasoned dry bread crumbs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combine mayo and cheese. Spread on chicken, then sprinkle with bread crumbs. Bake at 425, 20 minutes or until thoroughly cooked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put the chicken in a 8x6 glass baking dish spread the mayo &amp; cheese on top only and sprinkled with bread crumbs. I also greased the pan with Pam because, even though it didn't say, I didn't want to chance it sticking. I guess one could assume since it didn't say you don't have to, but like I said I'd rather not take my chances. You know I love scraping baking dishes oh so much! Anyway, was a great and fast recipe. I also have mayo, always have chicken breasts (the frozen in a bag ones anyway), and always have bread crumbs. I just happened to have the grated parm. And if you don't have Italian bread crumbs, use plain, but just add whatever spices you like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe when I get this blog thing organized enough I'll start posting my weekly menu on Sundays. No promises though. Oh and now I'm totally sitting here with the mayo jar on my computer desk. Don't you DARE ask me why I didn't just copy it off the web page. Some things just can't be explained.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-4362098710898049735?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/4362098710898049735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/easiest-chicken-recipe-ever.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4362098710898049735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4362098710898049735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/easiest-chicken-recipe-ever.html' title='Easiest chicken recipe ever.'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-3038205958118863784</id><published>2009-03-20T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T14:44:17.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's what we think of it</title><content type='html'>The twinsies in their room for the first time after &lt;a href="http://tinyurl.com/d8bpa3"&gt;remod&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Connor already trying to figure out how to get those stickers down:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQNU2nljlI/AAAAAAAAAFY/GlQRcdJiLe8/s1600-h/IMG_4002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQNU2nljlI/AAAAAAAAAFY/GlQRcdJiLe8/s200/IMG_4002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315388112114126418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What mom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQNfMU0LoI/AAAAAAAAAFg/GvBV8-4rODM/s1600-h/IMG_4001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQNfMU0LoI/AAAAAAAAAFg/GvBV8-4rODM/s200/IMG_4001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315388289739665026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what Cayden thinks of it, boring! *yawn*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQNk1tbmaI/AAAAAAAAAFo/iyvUMq4UsHc/s1600-h/IMG_4004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQNk1tbmaI/AAAAAAAAAFo/iyvUMq4UsHc/s200/IMG_4004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315388386748111266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just kidding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQNuqOw-dI/AAAAAAAAAFw/vRVwCuzbAF8/s1600-h/IMG_4006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQNuqOw-dI/AAAAAAAAAFw/vRVwCuzbAF8/s200/IMG_4006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315388555465390546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, it's cool. Now lets call our friends and let them know"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQN06haoeI/AAAAAAAAAF4/PF0ZcfcBXTg/s1600-h/IMG_4007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQN06haoeI/AAAAAAAAAF4/PF0ZcfcBXTg/s200/IMG_4007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315388662917800418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuties!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQOEDBXtnI/AAAAAAAAAGA/8K9byPRYGBM/s1600-h/IMG_4009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQOEDBXtnI/AAAAAAAAAGA/8K9byPRYGBM/s200/IMG_4009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315388922897348210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-3038205958118863784?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/3038205958118863784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/heres-what-we-think-of-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/3038205958118863784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/3038205958118863784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/heres-what-we-think-of-it.html' title='Here&apos;s what we think of it'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQNU2nljlI/AAAAAAAAAFY/GlQRcdJiLe8/s72-c/IMG_4002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-9141639269804244875</id><published>2009-03-20T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T14:27:08.013-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='room remod'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Remod of the twins room</title><content type='html'>Since we moved into this house, a year ago, I have wanted to paint the boys' room. Well, for once my procrastinating paid off. I originally wanted it blue. Thinking it was a nice boyish, easy color. I officially have decided on red. Everything in their room is blue. In fact since the day they were born everything they owned has been blue. I'm sick of blue. Also, a nice red wall will look really good up against their blue race car beds. That is the real reason I chose red. I thought it would be fun to do before &amp; after pictures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScA0ahlK9yI/AAAAAAAAAD4/J2VSoNI3U1I/s1600-h/IMG_3956.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScA0ahlK9yI/AAAAAAAAAD4/J2VSoNI3U1I/s200/IMG_3956.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314305190592706338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScA0jVE9P-I/AAAAAAAAAEA/V6lsXq8C7sw/s1600-h/IMG_3958.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScA0jVE9P-I/AAAAAAAAAEA/V6lsXq8C7sw/s200/IMG_3958.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314305341855186914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScA0pxvhhdI/AAAAAAAAAEI/omo7nP98qNs/s1600-h/IMG_3961.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScA0pxvhhdI/AAAAAAAAAEI/omo7nP98qNs/s200/IMG_3961.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314305452629132754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScA1AVKWk2I/AAAAAAAAAEY/tCMq3t4pKfc/s1600-h/IMG_3966.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScA1AVKWk2I/AAAAAAAAAEY/tCMq3t4pKfc/s200/IMG_3966.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314305840094024546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty boring, huh? Granted, they usually have LOADS (and I mean LOADS) of toys, blankets, and shoes everywhere. They have a toy organizer, and hamper, etc... It's not really THAT boring. I mean the color. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the after: (left side of room)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQIWNnGfvI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3bU6W7R3Fgk/s1600-h/IMG_3985.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQIWNnGfvI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3bU6W7R3Fgk/s200/IMG_3985.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315382637907836658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Closet:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQIkdvN8kI/AAAAAAAAAEo/273OHU_aulU/s1600-h/IMG_3987.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQIkdvN8kI/AAAAAAAAAEo/273OHU_aulU/s200/IMG_3987.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315382882755015234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entering their room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQIr2PtNdI/AAAAAAAAAEw/5dubl421z5k/s1600-h/IMG_3989.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQIr2PtNdI/AAAAAAAAAEw/5dubl421z5k/s200/IMG_3989.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315383009592817106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Floor/Baseboards:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQIzrfiBnI/AAAAAAAAAE4/RjUwQhAIw5k/s1600-h/IMG_3992.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQIzrfiBnI/AAAAAAAAAE4/RjUwQhAIw5k/s200/IMG_3992.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315383144145356402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right side:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQJAYcTTqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/kLKq_U4_9ZY/s1600-h/IMG_3996.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQJAYcTTqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/kLKq_U4_9ZY/s200/IMG_3996.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315383362369834658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Center (what you see when you walk in):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQJHM0ZlyI/AAAAAAAAAFI/7Nm0QTzvOQw/s1600-h/IMG_3997.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQJHM0ZlyI/AAAAAAAAAFI/7Nm0QTzvOQw/s200/IMG_3997.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315383479508768546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back: (We did the a/c vent, light switch, and outlet covers in silver)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQJPzjzjtI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/wEufCpNH_bw/s1600-h/IMG_3999.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScQJPzjzjtI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/wEufCpNH_bw/s200/IMG_3999.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315383627347103442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-9141639269804244875?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/9141639269804244875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/remod-of-twins-room.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/9141639269804244875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/9141639269804244875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/remod-of-twins-room.html' title='Remod of the twins room'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScA0ahlK9yI/AAAAAAAAAD4/J2VSoNI3U1I/s72-c/IMG_3956.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-7412960158316348289</id><published>2009-03-17T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T16:57:22.732-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='other people&apos;s cool blogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giveaways'/><title type='text'>New Giveway at Imperfects blog!</title><content type='html'>I want to win this giveaway, because I failed HORRIBLY at making my own camera strap covers, and being unemployed makes it impossible to afford the luxury. Though, once I can afford it I will definitely purchase from Shealynn's awesome Esty store!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out how to enter the giveaway:&lt;br /&gt;Imperfect's blog giveaway &lt;a href="http://lindseycheney.blogspot.com/2009/03/giveaway-sheyb.html"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt; She also sells awesome items from her store The Pleated Poppy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also check out the awesome prize:&lt;br /&gt;Shealynn's awesome Esty store &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5114995"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check it out and win one of these: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScApVCfTq3I/AAAAAAAAADI/0BY_ZAWMXU4/s1600-h/il_430xN.61290851.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScApVCfTq3I/AAAAAAAAADI/0BY_ZAWMXU4/s200/il_430xN.61290851.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314293001719360370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScApcZUdPQI/AAAAAAAAADQ/AjZ9SRt7VH4/s1600-h/il_430xN.61400157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScApcZUdPQI/AAAAAAAAADQ/AjZ9SRt7VH4/s200/il_430xN.61400157.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314293128106949890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScAqSh0-sVI/AAAAAAAAADo/X76CMewuSMY/s1600-h/il_430xN.61643099.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScAqSh0-sVI/AAAAAAAAADo/X76CMewuSMY/s200/il_430xN.61643099.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314294058103779666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScAqsreqFxI/AAAAAAAAADw/-7Zj7H0TsxE/s1600-h/il_430xN.60991434.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScAqsreqFxI/AAAAAAAAADw/-7Zj7H0TsxE/s200/il_430xN.60991434.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314294507371108114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-7412960158316348289?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/7412960158316348289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-giveway-at-imperfects-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/7412960158316348289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/7412960158316348289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-giveway-at-imperfects-blog.html' title='New Giveway at Imperfects blog!'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/ScApVCfTq3I/AAAAAAAAADI/0BY_ZAWMXU4/s72-c/il_430xN.61290851.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-238339627300953444</id><published>2009-03-16T13:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T16:58:18.977-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight loss struggle'/><title type='text'>Cabbage Soup Diet Day 1</title><content type='html'>Here's one I haven't tried, the infamous Cabbage Diet. It's not what most people think. You don't throw some cabbage in a big pot of chicken broth and eat it for a week. You don't eat raw cabbage for a snack, or dessert. In fact the soup consists of plenty of yummy veggies like mushrooms, carrots, celery, green peppers, green onion, of course cabbage, as well as Lipton Soup Mix, and any spices you like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1: Cabbage soup and all the fruit you want except bananas. Drink unsweetened tea, black coffee, cranberry juice, or water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had herbal tea with an apple for breakfast. A mix of cantaloupe, mango, and kiwi for a snack, and my cabbage soup for lunch. More fruit for snack. My stomach hurt from all the fruit, but otherwise I wasn't starving... yet. Two glasses of water (I need to pee) and another cup of tea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate more cabbage soup for dinner, and the rest of my fruit mix. Made the mistake of trucking the entire family to Home Depot for one can of paint (for $27!!! Holy sh*t!), and man I had to pee THREE times while we were in there. Told my husband I felt like I was pregnant (not really) he just glared at me. Maybe that is what sparked the conversation later in the evening while getting ready for bed, about how having children has &lt;s&gt;ruined&lt;/s&gt; changed our life so much. I even got him to talk a little bit about our &lt;s&gt;nonexistent&lt;/s&gt; sex life. Apparently we're on a push-pull cycle. He wants it, I don't, I want it, he doesn't. Of course I told him he's lying, when don't I want it?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did fantastic on the diet, until about 9pm when my oatmeal raisin cookies called my name. Good thing is now there are none to call my name for the rest of the diet. (Way to turn a negative into a positive Nikki! *cheers*) So basically Day 1: FAILED. I'm not starting over I'm just continuing but getting back on track.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-238339627300953444?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/238339627300953444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/cabbage-soup-diet-day-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/238339627300953444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/238339627300953444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/cabbage-soup-diet-day-1.html' title='Cabbage Soup Diet Day 1'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-6401599137851824576</id><published>2009-03-13T22:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T22:56:47.238-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bragging about my kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little miss'/><title type='text'>This always brightens my day</title><content type='html'>I got a better (still crappy camera phone) video of my youngest walking: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e94adcb192a77320" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De94adcb192a77320%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329960598%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D48C04A6B4A3DF2177059D415BE10A26BE0C1D6E9.62C0FE3F51B52C75292CFBC3949017CD746D33BA%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De94adcb192a77320%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DbeTqDBtTo8tab1NzKn40PA35F3c&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De94adcb192a77320%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329960598%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D48C04A6B4A3DF2177059D415BE10A26BE0C1D6E9.62C0FE3F51B52C75292CFBC3949017CD746D33BA%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De94adcb192a77320%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DbeTqDBtTo8tab1NzKn40PA35F3c&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's all kinds of fire. I now am a mother to 3 awesome toddlers/preschoolers. I no longer have an infant. I am both sad and over joyed. My kids are amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-6401599137851824576?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e94adcb192a77320&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/6401599137851824576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-always-brightens-my-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/6401599137851824576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/6401599137851824576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-always-brightens-my-day.html' title='This always brightens my day'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-4413244735934002480</id><published>2009-03-13T22:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T22:27:32.423-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight loss struggle'/><title type='text'>Weight Loss Saga Part II</title><content type='html'>Every day I wake up beginning a diet. By lunch I've lost track, gave up, and/or binged. Usually deciding to hell with it with a bowl of ice cream, yes in the middle of the afternoon. Thinking about losing weight CONSUMES me. There is not a moment in the day I'm not thinking about my weight. I think about how heavy I am, have gotten, how to lose it, today is the day, new diet, counting calories, starving myself, eating whatever the hell I want, and my favorite: I'M SO FUCKING FAT. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use different things to motivate me, whether it's just my pants don't fit, or a special event sometime in the future. Last year it was a friend's wedding, this year it's my cousin's wedding. Then sometimes I try to tell myself it's for my kids, so I can live longer, it's just for myself, it's for my husband, it's because I want to be a hot ass skinny bitch and saw HA I CAN DO IT. Truth is, so far I can't. I'm lazy, unmotivated, and I'm fat. By doctor's I'm clinically obese (not enough to qualify for surgeical help), and my BMI is way above any kind of remotely healthy level. I have no health problems however, I'm just fat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried medication, I've spoken to a doctor, I've tried Atkins, South Beach, Weight Watchers, drugs/pills, not eating, not thinking about it, exercise, Slim Fast, MediFast, liquid detox, Hollywood diet, detox pills, never touching fast food again, no soda, lemon tea, etc! If it's not surgery, I've tried it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a small person to begin with. I don't know that I would ever be (or want to be) smaller than a 9/10. I'd be ECSTATIC with even a 16 at this point. Size 12 would be preferable. I've set small goals, large goals, short term, long term. Nothing's work, and I can't stick with anything. I eat when I'm sick, stressed, depressed, happy, sad, angry, bored, hungry, and not hungry. I love food. I just don't want to be fat anymore, and I also don't want it to consume me every day of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit: Oh and I totally have to add that I have literally BEGGED God to help me do this. You know, they have those "I went to Church, and prayed for help through this &amp; lost 183lbs!" diets. I'm not trying to make a joke out of it, I literally prayed for God to help me get through the next day without shoving fatty foods in my mouth liked I'd never eat again. I think He's looking down laughing at me though, because I just get fatter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-4413244735934002480?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/4413244735934002480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/weight-loss-saga-part-ii.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4413244735934002480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4413244735934002480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/weight-loss-saga-part-ii.html' title='Weight Loss Saga Part II'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-8176892621678993904</id><published>2009-03-10T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T14:54:11.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>But she's my third</title><content type='html'>Why does my third child actually feel like my first? Why do I feel like I've never done this before, which inevitably makes me feel like I am doing it all wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hit me yesterday afternoon, because this &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; my first time doing this. When the twins were just about 7 months old, mommy went back to work (that would be me, yes). Someone else dealt with my kids for onwards of 9 hours a day Monday through Friday. Not only that, but shortly after returning to work we lost our house, and moved in with my in-laws. So, I had live-in babysitters also. However, the main thing was that I didn't get off work until 5pm, left the sitters by 5:30pm, home by 6pm. Feed the boys, played or bathed, and then put them to bed. They were always amazing sleepers. Never needed to be rocked, never went to bed with a bottle, promptly switched to sippy cups at 12 months no longer needing bottles, and never even had to decide whether I should try CIO (crying it out) because they never cried. I was blessed (or maybe just in for a horrible awakening with my next baby, yes?). Sometimes I'm sad, because I feel like I missed a good year of their life from about 7 months to 18 months. I really don't remember much. A majority of our belongings were in storage, I wasn't on the computer much, and I hardly took photos. A good chunk of the twins early toddlerhood is missing because of this. I'm making it up for it now, that's for sure. I enjoy every minute with them and every milestone. I laugh, because I thought two's were hard, and people say three's are harder, and I'm having more fun now with them than I am with my one year old daughter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter... my princess. My sweet, sweet pumpkin. I love her to death. I love to kiss her, hug her, hold her. I didn't care that she never slept through the night as an infant. I embraced my alone time with her at midnight. She is my last, and unfortunately, I cannot change my mind on that decision as it is made permanent by tubal ligation (note: for future post why I made that choice and how I'll always regret it). However, she has recently become the biggest pain in the butt I have ever had to deal with. I've ruined her that's for sure. Always giving into to every little cry of hers, always giving her a bottle when she woke in the middle of the night even at 11 months. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-8176892621678993904?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/8176892621678993904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/but-shes-my-third.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8176892621678993904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8176892621678993904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/but-shes-my-third.html' title='But she&apos;s my third'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-5372909026165545678</id><published>2009-03-09T16:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T13:01:25.741-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight loss struggle'/><title type='text'>My wieght loss saga</title><content type='html'>My battle with weight loss... could be a blog in itself. Unfortunately, it would be repetitive, and boring. So, I don't subject you to that kind of suffering, I only talk about it when I need to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have dealt with weight issues my entire life. However, only actually beginning 7 years ago did I have a problem. Throughout my childhood I was just bigger than most girls. Being 5'7" didn't help, but I also have an athletic build, not a small or petite frame. Even when thin I have many curves. Seven years ago I managed to eat enough Taco Bell to gain 95lbs in one short year. I went straight from my thinnest to my heaviest. Now, I could blame the Nachos Bell Grande, or I could also blame my addiction to ephedra, and my oh-so-healthy diet of nothing but 1 large Jamba Juice a day my entire senior year of high school for the reason I ballooned to a plump 232lbs during my 2nd year out of high school. Regardless of why, it still happened, and I am still here, 7 years later, paying for it. In the past 7 years I have flung hopelessly into the arms of every crash diet, as well as hopelessly failed. I'll lose the initial 10-15lbs, sometimes even 20lbs, but then gain it all back and then some. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plateau typically at 220lbs, and it took 4 years to get below that. Months before meeting my husband 4 years ago I had finally broke 220lbs. I was 206lbs. Obviously, I'm glad, but what in the hell was I thinking moving in with a man while trying to lose weight and on a record!?! Someone, pleeeeeeease tell me! (We all know relationships make fat people fatter.) Getting pregnant (with twins!?) was the end of me. While being a heffer I somehow managed to maintain a nice looking stomach. Let's just say that is no longer a quality I boast about, neither my boobs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having the twins, luckily, I quickly returned to my typical 220lbs. Fluctuating between that and the 230's was normal for me. Then when they were 7 months old I went back to work, and started Medifast. I lost 16lbs before finding out I was pregnant again shortly before the twins first birthday. I was heartbroken all my recent efforst were once again a bust. Even though I swore to keep my weight gain to a minimum, my precious bundle of joy had other plans. My youngest daughter made sure I had undeniably strong cravings for all things chocolate and sugar, while residing in my ever growing womb. The only thing healthy I craved were oranges, and I still believe the excessive amount I ate made them unhealthy. Luckily, however I kept the weight gain to a non excessive level of about 40lbs. Had she taken the 3 weeks extra she was suppose to, I'm sure it would have easily been 90lbs by 40 weeks gestation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Kinsey, however, I was not able to lose it. I was at home with 3 under 2, my husband working 2 jobs, struggling to breastfeed, and fighting postpartum. Weight and weight loss were far from my mind (for once). Kinsey finally being a few months old, me getting into my routine with having 3 children to care for, as well as a husband, I finally decided to join Weight Watchers... for 6 weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 6 weeks at WW I was able to lose 13lbs. Then why only 6 weeks you ask, because that's how long our tax return money lasted (for our things-we-could-live-without budget), as well as WW's special promotion. Not only was I no longer able to afford going to the weekly meetings, my weight loss started to diminish, as well as my motivation. Slowly I gained the 13lbs back, as well as 10 more. Then the holidays came, my marriage was hitting a rough spot, and I was beginning to find myself often depressed over these things. Let's not forget, all the while, I am trying to raise my kids to be happy, confident, and healthy human beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... to be continued.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-5372909026165545678?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/5372909026165545678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/food-knomes-make-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/5372909026165545678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/5372909026165545678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/03/food-knomes-make-me.html' title='My wieght loss saga'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-8989714894558917376</id><published>2009-02-27T22:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T23:00:36.348-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i don&apos;t know what else to blog about'/><title type='text'>Life in pictures</title><content type='html'>1. A photo of you in your room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004d9c1/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004d9c1/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A photo of you w/someone you don't actually like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004ecf2/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004ecf2/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; like this girl, she use to be my roommate in college. She's just kind of spoiled and selfish, but she never did anything to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. A photo of you very drunk:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004wbe5/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004wbe5/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;i&gt;might&lt;/i&gt; be a little drunk there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004x38p/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004x38p/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. A photo of you on your birthday or favorite holiday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004gkq5/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004gkq5/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't take pictures on my birthday. Only one I could find, turning 24.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The youngest photo of you in digital form:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004h25r/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004h25r/s320x240" width="320" height="206" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not technically digital form, but scanned in. I was probably 5 or so? With my cousin Jullie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004kgc2/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004kgc2/s320x240" width="147" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is me in 2001, Senior Prom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Your favorite outfit:&lt;br /&gt;I weigh 98328632478634lbs I don't have a favorite outfit. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004p2aw/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004p2aw/s320x240" width="180" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I LOVED this top when I had it. Once I had the twinsies it no longer felt the need to cover my ever extending belly bulge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. A photo of you making a goofy face at the camera:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004q5ef/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004q5ef/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like to make funny faces. I hate looking stupid. =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. A photo you miiiiiiiiiiiiight have edited to make yourself more attractive:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004r3xq/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004r3xq/s320x240" width="178" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't edit this, I naturally look like that. Cool, yes? (I didn't edit it to look more attractive, I did it to make some artsy icon with it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. A photo you might regret:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004s442/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004s442/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm hello!? Who is that ugly MAN in my shower holding my baby? WTF? LOL worst picture of me EVER. In the other pictures I had my head turned the other way which is how I wanted it, however I turn my head toward Kin for a second and hubs took a shot. F**ker. =P It will be deleted soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. A photo of you truly being yourself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004fwzd/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004fwzd/s320x240" width="212" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's me, big mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. The most recent photo of you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004t4kk/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004t4kk/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, Dad, Kinsey at her birthday party last Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. A photo of you being absolutely ridiculous:&lt;br /&gt;What?! Me? I'm never ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004y9q8/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004y9q8/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was slightly ridiculous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. A photo of you showing off a new hair cut/color:&lt;br /&gt;See above? J/K it was a wig, duh.&lt;br /&gt;Latest:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004zba2/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004zba2" width="251" height="212" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Previous:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/000509ta/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/000509ta/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp; Before That:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/000514hh/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/000514hh" width="170" height="226" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. A photo of a time in your life that is over that you wish wasn't:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/00052973/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/00052973/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just moments after we decided to move in together. I just wish sometimes we had more time to just be us. I think a lot of our issues stem from rushing into having kids so soon, and having too much responsibility and not enough fun together. I wouldn't trade it for the world, but I do think it takes a big role in our life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. A photo of a time in your life that's over &amp; you couldn't be more thankful that it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0005322h/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0005322h" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I adore the guy I'm laying with (was just a friend) but I was severely screwed up in this time in my life. I'm very glad it's over, though I do miss some of the people I lost that I once knew during this time. &lt;br /&gt;(Oh and ignore the text, that was my girlfriends website back in the day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. A photo of you when you were anything but happy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/00055qfz/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/00055qfz/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was soooo frustrated here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. A photo you had no idea that was being taken:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/00056581/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/00056581/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had no idea. I'm in the red, and drunk, playing flip cup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. A photo of you taken when you were a different person:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/000577d9/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/000577d9/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was young, single (well except for the occasional booty call with my on again off again BF), kid-less, going to college, drinking a lot, and living with my BFF. DIFFERENT person completely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. A photo of you w/someone you love: Piece of cake...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004cgkz/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/miss__nikki/pic/0004cgkz/s320x240" width="180" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the people I love most in my life. My family. We look kind of "church-y" here... lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was fun going through all my old photos. Embarrassing also. My husband got the privilege of seeing some photos he'd never seen of me before. I may have liked to keep it that way, but now at least I feel as if all my secrets are out. I have nothing to hide.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-8989714894558917376?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/8989714894558917376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-in-pictures.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8989714894558917376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8989714894558917376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-in-pictures.html' title='Life in pictures'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-9194539536716940525</id><published>2009-02-26T22:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T22:16:04.104-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>So what church do you go to?</title><content type='html'>I have an ancedote, but I want to say this first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since having my kids, I have wanted to attend church. My parents didn't bother educating me on religion during my childhood (or ever), and since you don't learn it in school I feel in the dark. I am in the dark. I know nothing. You'd laugh at me if you knew how true that is. How can a 26 year old person know nothing? I could even say I don't even know the difference between Christ &amp; Jesus. Don't laugh. It's my fault also, not just my parents. I have the internet at my finger tips, I could learn whatever I wanted. I am, however, just too intimidated to take that leap. I don't know where to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was searching for nearby churches in my neighborhood (there's a plethora), my husband caught me, and asked what I was doing. (He is very against organized religion, but has some faith there is something greater than us out there.) Honestly I was looking for a church event for my Scentsy business (I feel wrong saying that, but I was). Not ever knowing how to announce to my man that I want to go to church I took this as an opening. I said, "I'm looking for a church". Of course he proceeded to ask why, and I said because I always wanted to go. He basically laughed in my face. (We have a great marriage usually, but are sometimes too comfortable to realize when the other needs support.) So, I immediately said "just kidding" which I was, but that was my "out". I also asked him what was so funny about it, and why I couldn't go. He said I go, but he wouldn't.  I'd love to explore religion together, but if it won't work then I'll do it alone and convert him later... haha teasing. He supports me in all I do, and I have every reason to believe he would in this as well. I just have to let him know I'm serious, and not "just joking".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a million questions. Always have. Where do you begin?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-9194539536716940525?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/9194539536716940525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-what-church-do-you-go-to.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/9194539536716940525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/9194539536716940525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-what-church-do-you-go-to.html' title='So what church do you go to?'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-6843032487416926367</id><published>2009-02-25T10:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T11:39:41.509-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scentsy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bringing home the bacon'/><title type='text'>Reasons why I sell Scentsy</title><content type='html'>I'm negative, cynical, skeptical, and any other fun word you can think of that means I-don't-fall-for-scams, and I-don't-believe-this-will-work kind of stuff. I know, it's awful. It makes me doubt myself usually too, just because I know better. Then how am I in direct sales? Because there is seriously a product out there for everyone, and &lt;a href="http://scentsy.com/phx"&gt;Scentsy&lt;/a&gt; is mine. *deep voice* All mine bwhahaha!! Okay, back to reality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My half-sister's step-mom (brother's girlfriend's mother) showed me all that is wonderful of Scentsy products. She became a consultant late last year, and has had me hooked ever since. Why? I'll explain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a girl who loves anything that smells good. Whether it be fruit, or baking, or body spray. I love highly scented lip glosses so I smell them on me all day (right under my nose), I use plug-ins, candles, sprays, air fresheners, perfumes, potpourri, etc... I like my house, my car, and myself to smell good. Reason #1 I love Scentsy: how could you not like a product with over 80 scents to choose from? And bonus: I like 90% of them, and they are strong &amp; long lasting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 3 children under the age of 3. Two 2.5 year old vivacious boys &amp; a monster of a 1 year old daughter who we call Bratzilla! The twins are more than at the age to get into stuff, ruin stuff, stick things where things don't belong, eat stuff, throw things away, and you get my point. If it makes a mess, they'll make it. Could you imagine how enticing an open flame on a candle would look to a 2 year old? (Even better two 2 year olds!?) I'll answer for you, very. Not that I would put them where they could reach, but everyday they learn a new trick. Like pulling the kitchen chair over to the counter so they can climb up on it, to reach the jar of cookies on top of the fridge. Yes. Reason #2, Scentsy is safe to have around kids &amp; pets. The wax does not get hot enough to burn, it's also doesn't do harm to ingest, and the warmer also does not get hot enough to burn. Has your pet ever melted off it's whiskers on a candle? Scentsy's for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live in a historic house. It's ancient, never been remodeled, and the wiring, as well as plumbing, have all been grandfathered in. I'm deathly afraid this place will blow up just because the wiring is so old, and we use so many outlets and power strips it's scary. My house is so old there are no electrical outlets in the bathroom. I hate it for obvious reason, but also because I can't use my Scentsy plug-in, so I had to put it in the kitchen. My plug-in works great for my one-person kitchen though! Reason #3 I love Scentsy; so my house doesn't burn down. I have 3 kids to get out of the door, and can't remember to blow out every candle. If I leave Scentsy on while we're out of the house, I can rest assured it wouldn't burn down because of my candle! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love candles, but have always hated the black rim that is left after burning one. I would wipe and wipe (with only some it coming off), but still it looked awful. Scentsy warmers are gorgeous! There are so many (40+) designs to choose from. Simple, to chic, shabby, to elegant, to retro. You choose. Whatever you have decorated your room in, there's a Scentsy Deluxe Warmer to fit. I have such a hard time anytime I order, because I want so many. They also just came out with some really trendy animal print warmers for the Spring/Summer catalog. I am a huge Leopard print fan, but I also think I need a Zebra design. Reason #4; Scentsy not only smells awesome, but looks better than jar candles too! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I am so skeptical of MLM's, and direct sales Scentsy is great for me. It sells itself. You smell a tester, you want to buy, you see a warmer that you can picture sitting so nicely on your dresser, hall table, dining room hutch, a plug-in for your bathroom or kitchen, and you want to buy. All I need to do is show you the product and/or catalog. No pitch, though I have many, and no pushing. I feel comfortable selling it, because there is no doubt in my mind once you receive your items you will love it. Reason #5 I love Scentsy, because it's easy to sell &amp; makes me money! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd be in direct sales, and I'm so glad I am involved in Scentsy. It's a great company to work for, there are amazing consultants I've met, and the product is wonderful. &lt;a href="http://scentsy.com/phx"&gt;I heart Scentsy&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SaWa86u5JOI/AAAAAAAAADA/LH_k-zcZFMI/s1600-h/banner_leaderboard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 39px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SaWa86u5JOI/AAAAAAAAADA/LH_k-zcZFMI/s320/banner_leaderboard.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306818107274765538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-6843032487416926367?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/6843032487416926367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/reasons-why-i-sell-scentsy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/6843032487416926367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/6843032487416926367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/reasons-why-i-sell-scentsy.html' title='Reasons why I sell Scentsy'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SaWa86u5JOI/AAAAAAAAADA/LH_k-zcZFMI/s72-c/banner_leaderboard.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-4313656204476450590</id><published>2009-02-17T21:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T22:08:24.043-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bragging about my kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Why my twins don't match</title><content type='html'>I'm not one of those mothers who makes sure we all match for pictures. Not that I think it's bad, or silly, I'm just not that organized. I don't care if you picked a plain black or white t-shirt I could (almost) guarantee you that not every single person in this household had one. I could also definitely guarantee you that if you found a shirt that we all had that matched, I probably wouldn't care to wear mine in a family portrait. Call me vain, but I'm the one that has to look at the damn thing for the rest of my life. I searched high and low for some matching outfits for all of us for our Christmas card family photo this year, and to no avail. I couldn't find ANYTHING. My boys had a BAZILLION (yes it's a word, I checked) adorable cute winter-like Christmasy sweaters, not one that matched. Since they had a bazillion of them I was not about to go out and buy matching ones. I'm a frugal of sorts. So, what did I do? I made sure not one of us matched, and it came out wonderful. I have twins that are two and a half, a one year old daughter, a eclectic techie husband, and then me so, lots of color, and mismatch-ness &lt;b&gt;defines&lt;/b&gt; this family. That's where I came up with my little family portrait saying on my sidebar there (go look), because seriously without the chaos of family you really &lt;i&gt;aren't&lt;/i&gt; living. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I long to be the house with all the kids. I want to be the mom who's kid's friends all call "mom". Who love to hang out at my house because it's "cool". Not cool because I sell them beer or pot, but because it's cozy and relaxed. Comfortable. As mentioned in pervious posts I'm a life-like-the-movies type of dreamer. I don't want fame or fortune, but just that overall joyful feeling of realness. I think that completely makes no sense at all, but it does in my head. I want that chaotic life, but that you wouldn't trade. Busy with activities, outings, vacations, friends, dinners, movies, family, and all that fun good stuff families are made out of. I wanted at least three kids, which I got, and that is a big reason why. Family is very important to me no matter how much they get on my nerves. I grew up in a big family, and wanted to have a big family. If it weren't for these knots around my tubes I'd have more, but alas three was the decided number. (Note: I just realizes this entire paragraph has nothing to do with my twins not matching or family pictures, guess that's my niche getting off topic. Go me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm the frugal gal, my kids wear a lot of hand-me-downs. Which inevitably means they do not match. Don't get me wrong, again, I think it's adorable. When able, I certainly do make them match. Even with hand-me-downs they typically coordinate. We humans have a hard time straying from being creatures of habit (we buy one shirt we like it, we buy it in 5 other colors). My kids get their hand-me-downs from some of the richest people in the Silicon Valley, so I'm not going out of my way to complain that they don't match. My step-mom works as a personal house cleaner (yes, maid) for the richies in the Bay Area of California. She brings us stuff that has tags on it, and that cost more than my entire wardrobe. The Little Miss has a box full of Juicy Couture dresses and True Religion jeans anxiously awaiting her to turn 2T. I better start watching more kids. I can't have my daughter out dress me at age 2. Just kidding (completely). I am extremely thankful for the clothes we receive that I could sell to pay our car payments and still get my nails done that my daughter will play in the mud with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the twins were born I couldn't decide how I wanted to be. Do I have them always match or not? Isn't that strange? Am I weird for even caring or entertaining such a question? I don't feel weird. It's not like I ever told anyone, before now, that I thought stuff like that. They matched a majority of their infancy due to everyone's new baby gifts that mostly matched. Now I find myself trying to decide who wears what? That is why I love that they pick their own clothes, and I happily let them. Because no matter what thought I ever entertained about matching or non-matching I always told myself no matter what I did, as soon as they were old enough to have their own personalities I'd let them decide, and I do. Each are both very different in their styles as well. The only type of people I &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt; judge (but I really don't) are the ones who are adamant against having their adorable twinsies match. Just because your mom made you and your "Irish twin" sister dress alike until you were 17 aren't your kids problem. I'm just not black and white like that though. In fact I'm so stuck in the gray area I actually take the time to think these things out. In the end sometimes they match, sometimes they don't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-4313656204476450590?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/4313656204476450590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-my-twins-dont-match.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4313656204476450590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4313656204476450590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-my-twins-dont-match.html' title='Why my twins don&apos;t match'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-1002896868399772814</id><published>2009-02-16T19:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T10:48:29.031-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pampering'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair do'/><title type='text'>There's just something about getting my hair done</title><content type='html'>Getting my hair done is about the only thing I truly do for myself. I say "truly" because I also shop to relieve stress (when able), but the typical items purchase are kids clothing, toys, books, etc... I assure you those items are not for myself. Though I will once in awhile find a good deal on some crafty items such as knitting needles, yarn, tulle, or fabric. Back to my hair. I like my hair, it's not perfect, it's not always kept up, and it doesn't always do what I want it to, but I like it. I try to take good care of it. Well, minus that crazy period I went through when I bleached the holy hell out of it in high school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my aunt took me out to have my hair done, and have a girls day for my birthday. We went to this little swanky steakhouse for lunch called &lt;a href="http://www.durantsaz.com/"&gt;Durant's&lt;/a&gt;. It's an original to Phoenix, and very high quality. High quality food, and service two things I find very important for an established restaurant. Don't you? Yes, yes you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch we went to try a new hair salon. It's amazing what networking will do for you. I recently joined a local mommy group via meetup.com, and have since made some wonderful friends as well as received great info for things, like hair! I have received information on preschool for the boys, hair stylists, and sports activities for the kids. One of the mom's in the group is actually a hair stylist and works in a swanky salon (my new favorite word today. I do live downtown you know everything is swanky here). It's called Salon 7 (it's on 7th Street). It's an old house turned business. It's contemporary, and cute. The mom who does hair is super sweet, and she did a great job. Granted, I only had highlights done, but you'd be surprised how many idiot stylists I've been to that can mess up such a simple task up. I'm not complaining though, I'm over it. I love talkative stylists, because I like pretending that life is like the movies. Your hair stylist is who you divulge all your secrets to, and gossip about your girlfriends. It makes me uncomfortable to just sit there for two hours not saying a word. I also feel uncomfortable talking just to talk when they didn't ask me to talk. The one I went to today asked me all kinds of things about my kids, my husband, what he did for a living, what he was like, how we met, etc... Oh my God you don't think she was shopping do you? I didn't even think of that. Stay away from my man! Wait, he's unemployed no one will want him, he's mine! Haha just teasing. Anyway, she was great. Very chatty, sweet, and she ordered Scentsy items from me so that just made her my new best friend. That's right, I'm now gauging my friends on how much Scentsy they buy from me, wanna be my friend? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After hair, we went to Micheal's for some yarn. Miss Auntie wants a scarf. She goes to the modified (dirt track) races here in Phoenix, and when the winter season is over they move the races to evenings and it gets chilly for her. I'm excited she wants a scarf I made, I think that's just cool. Luckily she doesn't need it for another month because she is 3rd in line for my knitting projects. I need to finish Miss Poofs scarf, Little Miss' blanket (which was suppose to be done by this weekend NOT happening), and then Aunt's scarf. I'm tired just thinking about it. Oh, and then my "mom" asked for a teapot cozy tonight. Fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got a carrying bag for my Scentsy Basket Parties (if you don't know, ask) for $8.50 due to a 50% off President's sale coupon. I heart President's day sales. It will be perfect. Too bad I don't have basket testers yet to put in it, better get on that. I want to start soliciting my baskets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, needless to say I had a GREAT day. Made a new hair stylist friend after being loyal to mine for over 5 years, hung out with my aunt who fills the empty void where my mother should be, and had great food. The kids were amazing when I got home, riled up, but super funny and cute. Little Miss was a terror, but she's sick so she gets a free pass. I hated leaving her today since she was sick, but Daddy said she fell asleep on his chest twice which never happens so, he took good care of her. I just realized what I was originally going to make this blog entry about is now long lost in the shuffle. I may need to change the title. Basically I was going to go on and on about how getting my hair done makes me feel like a new me. I feel pretty, and pampered, and I love it. I guess this entry could have been a whole lot shorter. Oh well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave you with a crappy self-taken picture, with bad lightening, of my lovely, wonderful, highlighty goodness that is my hair:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SZsGQQ-HSvI/AAAAAAAAACo/V1I_B72Javk/s1600-h/newdo2-16-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 251px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SZsGQQ-HSvI/AAAAAAAAACo/V1I_B72Javk/s320/newdo2-16-09.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303839862662056690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-1002896868399772814?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/1002896868399772814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/theres-just-something-about-geeting-my.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1002896868399772814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1002896868399772814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/theres-just-something-about-geeting-my.html' title='There&apos;s just something about getting my hair done'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/SZsGQQ-HSvI/AAAAAAAAACo/V1I_B72Javk/s72-c/newdo2-16-09.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-4597778299048110368</id><published>2009-02-15T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T22:38:17.106-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bragging about my kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>Because everyday they amaze me</title><content type='html'>My children amaze me. Not because I think they are highly intelligent or gifted or anything like that (but of course they are), but because they are these little human beings that I grew and nourished. They amaze me because everyday we learn something new together. I learn how much patience I &lt;i&gt;don't&lt;/i&gt; have (but am gaining), and they learn a new word or sentence or how to do something for themselves. The twins go down for a nap around 1pm, so today they went down, and I put their sippy cups in the fridge. Cayden wakes up first, and the first thing he wants is his juice. I hear him wondering around the living room, and hallway looking for his cup. Next thing I know he comes back in his room, where I'm laying on his bed, with his and his brother's cup. He went through the child proof gate (&lt;i&gt;right&lt;/i&gt;) into the kitchen, in the fridge and got his damn sippy cup. I just laughed at looked at him, then told him how clever he was. It amazed me, this simple thing, because he didn't know they were in there. He also didn't know because I routinely put them in there, because I don't. He knew because it was a logical place to look if it wasn't where he'd left his cup in the living room which is always on his table where I tell him to put it. I'm amazed that his thought process lead him to look in the fridge. To me that is huge. He's two and a half. I swear him and his brother act like their 5 sometimes not 2. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night while putting them to bed Connor had gotten into trouble, and Daddy had scolded him a little. Well, while I was giving my g'night kisses he looked at me and said "Daddy no want kisses me" and after giggling a bit, persistently told him that Daddy definitely &lt;b&gt;did&lt;/b&gt; want kisses from him. Even though Daddy was a little mad, we always wanted kisses. It amazes me because he knows he was in trouble, and is already at an age to think we don't love him if we are mad at him kind of thing. It breaks my heart in the same sense, but it amazes me also. These little human beings of mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of nights ago I was in the kitchen doing the dishes (I love my life, I really do), and Connor sneaks in. Again the oh-so-wonderful child proof gate trick. They love to be in there when I'm in there, and typically I tell them to go play because our kitchen is too small and there's too many things they can get into, hence the wanna-be child proof gate. However, this time I let him stay. The previous night I had asked my Darling Husband to feed the dog. He didn't, but we'll save that rant for another post. Connor noticed, and he promptly pointed to the cupboard (low to the ground) with the dog food in it. I quickly said to him to not worry about it, and I would feed the dog when I was done with the dishes. Thinking to myself, damn they learn fast to tell a women what to do... ha ha. So, a few seconds later I see him pulling the bag of dog food out, and filling up Mia's dog dish fist full by fist full. This little accomplishment amazed me so, I yelled for my husband to come look. I am amazed, because I'm so proud of him. I hate that they are so independent, because I miss them needing me more. I am also grown up enough to realize just how much they still need me, but in a fun way not the I have to bottle feed and change your butt way because you literally can't do it. They need me in the sense of I kiss boo-boo's and make them better, I hug them when they are sick, and read to them before bed every night. It was crazy he knew where we kept the dog food having never actually shown him before, and how he even took notice that the dog's dish was empty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with Cayden getting his own sippy cup today out of the fridge, he also let Mia in the house. He's so cute, a very concerned sort of fellow. Mia was barking outside, probably scaring some old person walking their dog by our yard. I love my dog. Cayden went to the backdoor, and let her in. I hate hate hate that stupid non-child-proof-SOB gate, because I HATE HATE HATE even more so that my kids can get out of the backdoor. This reminds me, I need to remedy that. Luckily they could never leave our yard, but still lots of stuff back there that's not child safe. Chainsaw, wood chopper, axe, tractor, you know your typical backyard amenities. Joking. But I would hate for them to sniff the spray paint we actually do keep back there, or have hammer fights. Tangent. I'll fix it. New gate, new lock, just need to get it done. Luckily our house is 2 feet by 2 feet so they don't get anywhere without me knowing. Except the one time they got out front and went to the neighbors, that I didn't know about. Another post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, needless to say my children are amazing intelligent, gifted, talented, and just better than yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-4597778299048110368?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/4597778299048110368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/because-everyday-they-amaze-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4597778299048110368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/4597778299048110368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/because-everyday-they-amaze-me.html' title='Because everyday they amaze me'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-8855450987182882513</id><published>2009-02-15T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T22:38:51.521-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrity gossip'/><title type='text'>Where's Joaquin Phoenix?</title><content type='html'>My husband came home the other night, from hanging out with a friend that had showed him a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/"&gt;YouTube&lt;/a&gt; video of the Joaquin Phoenix interview with David Letterman, to show me the video. Well CBS had since taken the video down, naturally wanting you to go to their website to locate it, in the 30 minutes that it took him to get home. However, we managed to locate a a good enough video clip to give me a good enough idea of what the hell my husband was talking about. What in the world is that!? If you haven't seen it, &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/late_show/video/video.php?cid=446418043&amp;pid=TOnYWLFIAq4k8vA0Me2lpEWu5ovWrJzB&amp;category=editorial&amp;play=true"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; is CBS' version of it. It's just a snippet, but will give you a pretty good idea of who is NOT home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, what's with the beard? He is an incredibly handsome man, what is he thinking? Now he looks like he should be one of Angelina Jolie's adopted children, seriously. Now, as far as whether or not he was there, or not there, or whatever he was "on" (i.e. DRUGS) I wasn't so sure, so I made my husband find the video clip of his interview with David Letterman 3 years back. HOLY BAT SHIT. These are two different people. Whatever, people get mixed up I get it. Look at his brother, River Phoenix, not great history of non-drug users there. But seriously? Giving up your incredible acting career for HIP-HOP? And note, I'm an avid music lover of all music, and devoted hip-hop listener. So then we continue to surf the web for more interviews and videos of the proclaimed Joaquin Phoenix, an actor we so enjoyed who is throwing his career out of he window! We stumble upon an E! exclusive interview and it's hilarious, all 10 seconds of it. Where he announces his "retirement" from acting, and his Two Lovers movie with Gweneth Paltrow is to be his last film, he's pursuing music. He's laughed at (again). Seriously, laughed at. He gets pissed, and says he's dead serious then walks away. I wish I could find the clip, well I probably could I just don't feel like it. Anyway, so we find another video of his hip-hop performance and he falls of the stage which is a perfect ending to a horrible song &amp; dance performance from some white guy with a hippie beard, glasses, and heroine (Where's Joaquin Phoenix?). He obviously needs some real help. I just couldn't stop laughing, but really it's sad. I think playing Johnny Cash went to his head, no? What are his agents and producers thinking?! Do they think this idea is good, because no one else on planet Earth does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-8855450987182882513?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/8855450987182882513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/wheres-joaquin-phoenix.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8855450987182882513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/8855450987182882513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/wheres-joaquin-phoenix.html' title='Where&apos;s Joaquin Phoenix?'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-2859720848336706784</id><published>2009-02-15T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T22:39:26.026-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='other people&apos;s cool blogs'/><title type='text'>Pretty In Pink!</title><content type='html'>Win a FREE Boon Flair High Chair! (Super cute for those Savvy Mommies!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click here to see post for contest entry:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://berriesweetpicks.blogspot.com/2009/02/pretty-in-pink.html"&gt;Berrie Sweet Picks&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And click here to read Berrie Sweet Picks blog-y goodness:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.berriesweetpicks.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://i107.photobucket.com/albums/m296/shaunacallaghan/berriebutton2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-2859720848336706784?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/2859720848336706784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/pretty-in-pink.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/2859720848336706784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/2859720848336706784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/pretty-in-pink.html' title='Pretty In Pink!'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-2498114882409201765</id><published>2009-02-13T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T22:40:05.361-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bragging about my kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little miss'/><title type='text'>My youngest walks!</title><content type='html'>My daughter was born just a little over a year ago. I cannot express how much I miss her being an infant. I also cannot express how WAY TOO F**KING FAST the time has gone by! I can only imagine any other mother fully understands this feeling. My only thing is, she is and will be my last child. I held onto her being an infant as tight as I possibly could. I didn't complain about nightly feedings, and I still don't. (Yes, you read that right she's one and wakes up and I love it.) I think I definitely enjoyed her way more than I ever was able to with the twins for one reason being there were two of them, and another knowing she was my last baby. Anyway, on with the fun stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crappy camera phone videos of her walking. I eat it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i19.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid19.photobucket.com/albums/b178/nikki283/Kinsey%20Colette/VID00058.flv" width="448" height="361"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice her professional one knee'd scoot right back toward me? Yep, she's a pro. The end of this video makes me laugh hysterically too, nose dive right into the pillow! The walking thing she's still working on, and that's OKAY. I'm so very proud of you, Kinsey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-2498114882409201765?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/2498114882409201765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-youngest-walks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/2498114882409201765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/2498114882409201765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-youngest-walks.html' title='My youngest walks!'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-1800619667677451507</id><published>2009-02-13T18:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T22:40:52.172-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i don&apos;t know what else to blog about'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school thoughts about life'/><title type='text'>What am I looking for?</title><content type='html'>I have spent a good majority of my life wondering "what will happen next?" as well as "how did I get here?", and not in a bad way, just in a pondering way. How life works baffles me. How one choice can decide what you're doing in the upcoming years, or how one casual decision unfolds tremendous opportunity, or sometimes tremendous disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have continuously wondered what's this all for. I yearn to be religious, or to believe in a higher power, God, or just anything (even myself). I want to have faith that there is a reason why we are all here, and why we encounter so much pain and hurt. I try to believe it's to experience the happiness, and beauty, but sometimes I just don't get it. I want to believe I will make a difference, that I will not just die and be forgotten, but sometimes it's hard for me to find my way. I'm unsure of my "purpose", or what I'm suppose to accomplish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I look at my kids, and I know. I know why I'm here, and I know what I'm doing. I see so much light, and life in their eyes it inspires me. They drive me to be a better person, to explore new things, and to believe. So, I hate when I lose sight of myself and just feel lost. I also don't want to waste my entire life wondering what the hell I should be doing instead of doing it. I'm just not sure what I'm looking for. I've written it before, and I've thought it all my life, but I have always called myself a mediocre type of person. I'm a little good at a lot of things, but not great at one. I do not fit into one stereotypical type of "people", yet I have a hard time fitting into any group at all. I find myself without friends, without motivation, without dedication. It's a kick to my ego every now and then too. I know I'm a good person, I love people, I try to be a great friend, and yet I always find myself alone. I think that is why a huge part of me always wanted to start a family so bad. A group of people that couldn't leave me. I've never said that, never even thought of it, but saying it now I think it may have been true. Is that such an awful thing? Knowing my luck my husband will leave me, and my kids will grow up and never speak to me... haha. I laugh, because I have to. I don't think that will actually happen (see "I'm a good person" above), but I just had to put it out there that it's not like I don't think that can't happen. So here I am, I have created my own group of people that love me. What's better than that? I have amazing friends, but there's always some sort of distance, whether it be physical or psychological, it's there. I've been hurt several times by the one person I'd wish not to have been hurt by, and I often blame her for the reason I keep my distance from anyone else. My mother. Doesn't all of our adult problems stem from childhood problems with our parents? Another reason I don't feel out of the ordinary, because even my problems and past are typical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once had a boyfriend who told himself, in his blog, that I was not unique (after breaking up with me) . Trying to convince himself that he would easily find someone better or that could at least replace me. He later told me (years after the breakup) I am unique. I just wish I knew how...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm not sure exactly why I wonder what life is all about, or what. I'm really not sure why I think half the things I think to be completely honest. I have a wondering mind. I can also play the poor-pitty-me card, and say no one understands me too, but I'll save that for another post. I guess I just like knowing there are other people out there, as normal functioning people like myself, that think similar things, because I tend to meet a lot of folks that are content in believing life is in God's hands, and I'm just not sure that satisfies me. Who is this God person anyway and why does He get to decide what happens? As I mentioned above, I want to believe, but I feel like I can't until I understand it all. If I understand, I can believe wholeheartedly, and that is what I am looking for.  Apparently I need to learn the definition of faith, no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-1800619667677451507?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/1800619667677451507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-am-i-looking-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1800619667677451507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/1800619667677451507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-am-i-looking-for.html' title='What am I looking for?'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2772144509573713017.post-7017150313379330146</id><published>2009-02-10T21:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T22:43:32.517-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the day i started this damn thing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>February 10th 2009</title><content type='html'>Today is my birthday. Today is the day I decided I'd start this blog. I created a blogspot many years ago, updated it a couple of times, life happened, couldn't get into the email I had it connected to, and well here I am with my new one. I want this blog to keep track of the promises I make to myself. A place to organize my thoughts, goals, and achievements. I'm learning to become more creative. I'm trying to be more positive, and just enjoy life. I'm also pushing to accomplish things I'd normally not try. Becoming a mother has certainly changed me. I've already missed 2.5 years of my growth, I'd like to keep track of the rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2772144509573713017-7017150313379330146?l=iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/feeds/7017150313379330146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/february-10th-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/7017150313379330146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2772144509573713017/posts/default/7017150313379330146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iamsimplynikki.blogspot.com/2009/02/february-10th-2009.html' title='February 10th 2009'/><author><name>simply nikki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02405386615860908616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okF3qxDChLE/TAbJV5vqy0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dd2h_9GkRvM/S220/colgate1F.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
