<?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-5559827898920725629</id><updated>2011-07-30T10:50:47.984-07:00</updated><category term='loss'/><category term='shop'/><category term='travel'/><category term='laugh'/><category term='interior design'/><category term='love'/><category term='polka dot grove'/><category term='family'/><title type='text'>LOVE LAUGH SHOP</title><subtitle type='html'>love big. laugh loud. shop often.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-8262017340000301913</id><published>2010-06-20T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T21:23:42.715-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>A Conversation With My Dad</title><content type='html'>My first Father's Day without my Dad is almost over. &lt;br /&gt;Even though I have been dreading it, it was&amp;nbsp;even harder than I expected it would be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not let it end without writing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my Dad. If he were still here, or if he is in some way listening from somewhere, here is what I would say to him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad, I miss you. &lt;br /&gt;Cooper is getting so big. Everyone says he looks just like me. Do you think so?&lt;br /&gt;What is your favourite flavour of ice cream? I can't remember and it makes me so sad.&lt;br /&gt;I have a hard time talking about you to anyone. Even/especially mom.&lt;br /&gt;I want to know that you are okay. I wish there was some way that you could tell me that you are.&lt;br /&gt;We are going home in a week and I am happy and scared at the same time. All of my summer Nova Scotia memories&amp;nbsp;include you.&lt;br /&gt;Mom feels your presence at the house. I hope I will too.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob remembers you and knows you from the pictures we have of you and him together. I don't want him to forget.&lt;br /&gt;He is growing up so fast. You guys would have had so much fun together this summer. So much fun.&lt;br /&gt;Are you proud of me?&lt;br /&gt;When I go for walks or am by the water, I always think of you.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the sound of your laugh, your corny jokes and your made-up words.&lt;br /&gt;Cooper is just about walking and can say yes, more and loves to give Jacob hugs and kisses.&lt;br /&gt;I pretend all the time that you are not really gone.&lt;br /&gt;When we think about starting a new project around the house, the first person&amp;nbsp;I think of calling is you.&lt;br /&gt;Randy wants to repair a hole in the drywall while I am away. Should I hide his tools?&lt;br /&gt;I wish had taken more pictures of you and with you.&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe in heaven or God really, but I hope so much that you somehow are watching over Mom. &lt;br /&gt;Can you see my boys and how perfect they are? How sweet and funny and perfect?&lt;br /&gt;I'll never forget our walks, the way you treated me like a little girl even in my 30s and the way you 'sang' your sentences.&lt;br /&gt;You were a GREAT dad and wonderful grandfather.&lt;br /&gt;I miss you Dad. I miss you every single day and I hate that you are gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;happy father's day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/TB7nMgMpF0I/AAAAAAAAA0w/L0u6rP_8tAI/s1600/nova+scotia+July+2008+089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" ru="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/TB7nMgMpF0I/AAAAAAAAA0w/L0u6rP_8tAI/s320/nova+scotia+July+2008+089.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-8262017340000301913?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/8262017340000301913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/06/conversation-with-my-dad.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/8262017340000301913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/8262017340000301913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/06/conversation-with-my-dad.html' title='A Conversation With My Dad'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/TB7nMgMpF0I/AAAAAAAAA0w/L0u6rP_8tAI/s72-c/nova+scotia+July+2008+089.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-2953402445673061100</id><published>2010-04-21T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T19:12:07.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Majesta Mom</title><content type='html'>I recently had the opportunity to be a part of the Majesta Moms group at Mom Central. I had never been asked to do a product review before so I was not sure what to expect. It turned out to be a great experience. It opened up my eyes to new, easy ways I can help the environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;We&amp;nbsp;learned about and&amp;nbsp;tested Majesta's new Treesposible&amp;nbsp;products.&amp;nbsp;Majesta plants&amp;nbsp;3 trees for every&amp;nbsp;1 tree they use to produce their paper products. They are great for the environment, they work well and they are a Canadian company.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S8-u9_OTyYI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/Mgin2CeLW8A/s1600/6980-majesta-bathroom-tissue%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="146" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S8-u9_OTyYI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/Mgin2CeLW8A/s200/6980-majesta-bathroom-tissue%5B1%5D.jpg" width="200" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;One week we were asked how we are being environmentally responsible at home. My immediate reaction was: Oh crap...I am going to sound like the biggest envirnomental slacker ever. Then I sat down and made a list of everything we do in our home to help the envirnoment and I felt a little bit better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-recycle and compost&lt;br /&gt;-changed all light bulbs &lt;br /&gt;-energy efficient appliances and new furnace&lt;br /&gt;-never have lights on unless we are in the room&lt;br /&gt;-wash most laundry on cold setting&lt;br /&gt;-hang all clothes to dry&lt;br /&gt;-recently switched to enviro friendly cleaning products&lt;br /&gt;-looking into using low VOC paint for any more renos&lt;br /&gt;-bring our own re-usable bags when shopping and use bins for groceries instead of plastic bags&lt;br /&gt;-plan meals when making a grocery list so we don't waste food (still working on this one!)&lt;br /&gt;-we don't drink water from plastic bottles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were also asked what is preventing us from doing more. For me it is about:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-convience (cloth diapers would be a good idea, I know, but with the amount of poop in this house, I am a Pampers mom)&lt;br /&gt;-cost (I would love to buy all organic fruit and veg and meat but I can't justify the prices) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S8-s4nwW53I/AAAAAAAAA0U/HJW8bVqhBSw/s1600/4da0a72c84c50cd02c18cddb9696223c%5B1%5D.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="183" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S8-s4nwW53I/AAAAAAAAA0U/HJW8bVqhBSw/s200/4da0a72c84c50cd02c18cddb9696223c%5B1%5D.png" width="200" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Majesta has a great contest for Canadians to win $15 000 towards a Green Makeover. You can enter &lt;a href="http://www.majestapromotions.ca/GreenMakeover/Ballot.aspx"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. If I won I would love to replace&amp;nbsp;our kitchen appliances and&amp;nbsp;our toilets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to hear your tips for helping the environment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-2953402445673061100?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/2953402445673061100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/04/majesta-mom.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/2953402445673061100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/2953402445673061100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/04/majesta-mom.html' title='Majesta Mom'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S8-u9_OTyYI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/Mgin2CeLW8A/s72-c/6980-majesta-bathroom-tissue%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-4185850194006741112</id><published>2010-04-09T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T11:34:43.906-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Girlfriends</title><content type='html'>This post is for my girlfriends from Nova Scotia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends through thick and thin {and I am not just talking about my waistline}. &lt;br /&gt;My friends even though I make it home only once a year.&lt;br /&gt;My friends that make me laugh until I cry.&lt;br /&gt;My friends that know all of my old secrets.&lt;br /&gt;My friends that still know how to party like it's 1999.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends that were there for me during the worst part of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for distancing myself from you all when you were so good to me. The only way I can explan it is this:&lt;br /&gt;I have not been able to deal with losing my Dad. I can't talk about it yet. So talking to my friends that knew him and that know me so well has been scary for me. It makes it seem more real and I worried that your kindness and sympathy would break my control over my emotions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is slowly getting a little easier and I miss you girls so much (even if it is just a quick chat on facebook) so I hope you understand and forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now open for business (let's just avoid one topic for now if you don't mind).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Your Least Conservative Friend xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-4185850194006741112?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/4185850194006741112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/04/girlfriends.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/4185850194006741112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/4185850194006741112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/04/girlfriends.html' title='Girlfriends'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-3905676850075538894</id><published>2010-03-08T14:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:57:45.215-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>My Dad's Birthday</title><content type='html'>Today is a tough one for me. It is supposed to be my dad's birthday. He would be 65. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been trying to think of the best way to mark this day. Dad's favourite drink was Coke. He drank it all day every day. I have not been able to touch it. I thought I could drink a toast to him today but I am not ready. Strange, I know, but I can't go near it without feeling sick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been really hard to think of anything to do in his honour because I actually don't believe he is gone. I wonder if that feeling ever goes away? I am also finding it impossible to talk about him with anyone, even my family, because it makes it real and I can't control my emotions yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did come up with a way to think of him today that I can handle though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dad loved the zoo. He went to the Toronto Zoo with my son and husband on his last visit here so my mom, brother and sister and I decided we would remember him today by adopting a gorilla in his name. I think he would like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S5V0DmwdGcI/AAAAAAAAAvI/zfmXL5Pctk8/s1600-h/June+2009+054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S5V0DmwdGcI/AAAAAAAAAvI/zfmXL5Pctk8/s320/June+2009+054.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;happy birthday Dad xoxo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-3905676850075538894?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/3905676850075538894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-dads-birthday.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3905676850075538894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3905676850075538894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-dads-birthday.html' title='My Dad&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S5V0DmwdGcI/AAAAAAAAAvI/zfmXL5Pctk8/s72-c/June+2009+054.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-2443654170102232449</id><published>2010-03-04T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T11:10:11.332-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='interior design'/><title type='text'>Home Show Hot List</title><content type='html'>I won some free tickets to the National Home Show, thanks to the &lt;a href="http://www.yummymummyclub.ca/"&gt;Yummy Mummy Club&lt;/a&gt;. I love interior design but I had never been to a Home Show before so I went, ready to be inspired. Here are my fave finds:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Are these light fixtures hot or what? I LOVE them. &lt;br /&gt;They are like jewelry for your home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_C7Jqem_I/AAAAAAAAAt4/L_hmTyFxWD8/s1600-h/pdg+050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_C7Jqem_I/AAAAAAAAAt4/L_hmTyFxWD8/s320/pdg+050.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_DJZ96twI/AAAAAAAAAuA/ZdU_T3eHSjM/s1600-h/pdg+043%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_DJZ96twI/AAAAAAAAAuA/ZdU_T3eHSjM/s320/pdg+043%5B1%5D.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I would tile every surface in my bathrooms if I could {except the toilet...brrrrr!}. These were my favourites:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_FNKUh08I/AAAAAAAAAug/ARl_GtyPZHw/s1600-h/DSCF0078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="181" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_FNKUh08I/AAAAAAAAAug/ARl_GtyPZHw/s200/DSCF0078.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_E8h034dI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/DQXwk30kco0/s1600-h/DSCF0076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="177" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_E8h034dI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/DQXwk30kco0/s200/DSCF0076.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_FIKv82rI/AAAAAAAAAuY/aJtCdC3vMbo/s1600-h/DSCF0077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_FIKv82rI/AAAAAAAAAuY/aJtCdC3vMbo/s200/DSCF0077.jpg" width="168" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;This bathtub is so fabulous I can't even stand it! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;When I grow up I am going to get one just like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_GLdvi5FI/AAAAAAAAAuo/imtiJV0jg3I/s1600-h/DSCF0075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_GLdvi5FI/AAAAAAAAAuo/imtiJV0jg3I/s320/DSCF0075.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;There is nothing better than sitting by a cozy fire on&amp;nbsp;a beautiful summer night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I know just&amp;nbsp;the right spot to&amp;nbsp;put one of these lovelies in my back yard:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_NF-uUhjI/AAAAAAAAAu4/UBAo9hKl1Es/s1600-h/pdg+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_NF-uUhjI/AAAAAAAAAu4/UBAo9hKl1Es/s200/pdg+035.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_Me3rp_eI/AAAAAAAAAuw/j4xg36ctNbo/s1600-h/DSCF0049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_Me3rp_eI/AAAAAAAAAuw/j4xg36ctNbo/s200/DSCF0049.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_NhmmEL5I/AAAAAAAAAvA/WbwUD9cq094/s1600-h/DSCF0057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_NhmmEL5I/AAAAAAAAAvA/WbwUD9cq094/s200/DSCF0057.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I found some environmentally friendly paint in such fresh colours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Good for the environment &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; beautiful? Sold!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iSoh_NjSa20/S5AKOmgcnDI/AAAAAAAAACI/KE7D-kTDdLA/s1600-h/DSCF0088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iSoh_NjSa20/S5AKOmgcnDI/AAAAAAAAACI/KE7D-kTDdLA/s200/DSCF0088.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iSoh_NjSa20/S5AKgB5f7oI/AAAAAAAAACQ/CVT6TTmcwgo/s1600-h/DSCF0089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iSoh_NjSa20/S5AKgB5f7oI/AAAAAAAAACQ/CVT6TTmcwgo/s200/DSCF0089.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;This one's for&amp;nbsp;you future Canadian Olympic hockey players. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;It's a floor that you can put in your basement, or back yard, or garage that you can &lt;em&gt;ice skate&lt;/em&gt; on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Yup.&amp;nbsp;You heard me.&amp;nbsp;Ice skating in your basement. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We saw it in action and it is so cool!&amp;nbsp;Ugly but cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iSoh_NjSa20/S5ALaETHBaI/AAAAAAAAACY/izXWoDEZskU/s1600-h/DSCF0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iSoh_NjSa20/S5ALaETHBaI/AAAAAAAAACY/izXWoDEZskU/s200/DSCF0037.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;No home show would be complete without celebrities. I got the chance to watch &lt;a href="http://www.cocktaildeeva.com/"&gt;Cocktail Deeva&lt;/a&gt; work her magic. She was hilarious and took the mystery out of mixing fun, delicious drinks. She is just as fabulous in person as you would think. By the way: her shoes were to die for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iSoh_NjSa20/S5AMsXfMZaI/AAAAAAAAACg/-KBHyK1s_pY/s1600-h/DSCF0094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iSoh_NjSa20/S5AMsXfMZaI/AAAAAAAAACg/-KBHyK1s_pY/s200/DSCF0094.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-2443654170102232449?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/2443654170102232449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/03/home-show-hot-list.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/2443654170102232449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/2443654170102232449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/03/home-show-hot-list.html' title='Home Show Hot List'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S4_C7Jqem_I/AAAAAAAAAt4/L_hmTyFxWD8/s72-c/pdg+050.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-3776095485524575095</id><published>2010-02-24T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:48:39.062-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='polka dot grove'/><title type='text'>Polka Dot Groove</title><content type='html'>I have always been a pretty chilled out {lazy} person. I had no problem putting my feet up and spending hours watching tv or reading a book.&amp;nbsp;That has all changed since &lt;a href="http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-dad.html"&gt;October&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and I find myself with lots and lots of {nervous} energy. Now that both boys are in bed early, hubby is working late,&amp;nbsp;and I am up until at least midnight every night, I&amp;nbsp;need ways to fill the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so grateful that art has filled that space.&amp;nbsp;I decided to start &lt;a href="http://www.polkadotgrove.com/"&gt;Polka Dot Grove&lt;/a&gt; with my friend &lt;a href="http://www.polkadotgrove.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lisa&lt;/a&gt;...let's see...over a year ago. Life and kids {and trying to pick a logo}* delayed the process a bit. In that time Lisa landed an amazing opportunity to write the &lt;a href="http://www.yummymummyclub.ca/party_mummy"&gt;Party Mummy&lt;/a&gt; blog for the Yummy Mummy Club. So, for now, I am flying solo. I feel like creating art has helped me get back into the groove of life a bit, although I think I still have a long way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to my great friends, online and off, I have had quite a few orders already. I can't believe it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just know that Oprah will be knocking on my door and adding me to her Favourite Things show any minute now. I guess I better buy some cuter pj's so I am ready to Skype with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*have I said how much I love these brackets { }?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-3776095485524575095?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/3776095485524575095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/02/polka-dot-groove.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3776095485524575095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3776095485524575095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/02/polka-dot-groove.html' title='Polka Dot Groove'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-2270488528632413681</id><published>2010-02-09T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T17:26:47.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You Thursday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I don't know about you, but Follow Friday stresses me out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;There are so many of you that I love tweeting with and I hate the thought of leaving anyone out when I make my recommendations. When I think about who I am going to choose, I am really just saying thank you to people in some way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;So this week I am&amp;nbsp;going to do&amp;nbsp;something new: &lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;Thank You Thursday&lt;/span&gt;. Instead of suggesting&amp;nbsp;people to follow, I am going to thank a few tweeps that have helped me smile, laugh, think or learn something new this week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisconsinmade.com/assets/item/large/2878-thank-you-sugar-cookie-gift-tin-XL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="163" kt="true" src="http://www.wisconsinmade.com/assets/item/large/2878-thank-you-sugar-cookie-gift-tin-XL.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;I hope you do it too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-2270488528632413681?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/2270488528632413681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/02/thank-you-thursday.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/2270488528632413681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/2270488528632413681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/02/thank-you-thursday.html' title='Thank You Thursday'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-7455398451372101991</id><published>2010-02-08T08:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T08:11:00.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Canada?</title><content type='html'>I moved away from Nova Scotia over 10 years ago, but I have never felt farther away from home then I did my first year teaching. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fresh out of university, my boyfriend at the time and I decided we wanted an adventure and accepted teaching positions at a fly-in First Nations Community in Northern Canada. And by fly-in I mean you can only get there by plane. A series of planes, actually, until you are on a 10 seater chatting with the pilots through the curtain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 250 people lived in this community above the tree line, along the Hudson Bay. No malls, no movie theatres, no restaurants, no anything. The nearest community was 350 kms away; the only way to travel to there&amp;nbsp;by ice road in the winter. Fresh produce was flown in every Wednesday, weather permitting, and I had to go right away if I hoped to get anything for the week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing there was a lot of were wild dogs and 2 'tame' wolves. They would follow me to the store and bite at my bags if I bought meat. One dog, that we called Jumper, took on the role as my protector and would walk with me and scare the other dogs away. The dogs would be, not by any fault of their own, one of the reasons I would come to dread opening my door each day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children. &lt;br /&gt;The children did and still do break my heart. I taught grade 2 and 3 to a group of children that could not read or write. Many faced horrific home lives.&amp;nbsp;A few&amp;nbsp;did not. Some days I would have to teach with my back against the door because a couple of my students would try to leave and I was afraid of something happening to them if they wandered away outside on their own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I walked into my classroom to find a new student. He sat in the middle of the room with his hood pulled over his face. I asked him to take it off but he would not so I didn't push it. I found out soon that he had been sniffing gasoline when he was younger and someone had thrown a match at him so he had suffered burns. He had been brought to this community for help. Then one day he wasn't there. He had been sent away for teaching our kids how to sniff gasoline. He was only seven years old. I still can't deal with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew to love these kids that came through my door and sometimes to my house. They were the reason I held on and stayed as long as I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could paint a pretty picture of a community that embraced their culture and were happy but I can't. &lt;em&gt;Every&lt;/em&gt; woman I met was abused at some time in her life. This included my friends that I taught with. It got to a point where I could not face talking to any of the men. Although it was technically a dry community, there was alcohol and drug abuse. One of my friends explained it to me in a way that helped me to understand why&amp;nbsp;so many suffered.&amp;nbsp;She explained that her parents' generation were taken from their parents, their culture, their life and forced to conform in residential&amp;nbsp;schools. They did not fit in this new world and they no longer fit in at home when they went&amp;nbsp;back in the summer. The worst part was they never had parenting. They had no role model for what parenting looked like so when they had children, they were lost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life was not easy for us there either. I guess my first clue should have been the bullet holes in our house or the bars across our windows. The teenage kids made our lives hell. They would drive around our house at night and throw rocks and sticks at our windows, yelling at us. Sometimes we would hide in the bathroom, the only room without windows.&amp;nbsp;Some girls wrote the word 'bitch' on the outside of our house with an arrow pointing to our front door.&amp;nbsp;One morning I opened the door to leave for school to see a pile of dead dogs blocking our screen door. This became a regular occurence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night all of us 5 teachers got together for a dinner. We heard a loud thump. Someone had thrown a live puppy at the house. I took the puppy home and stopped going to work until they hired someone to patrol our houses at night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wasn't very reliable and we still got almost nightly visits. School was not much better. I had to cover my classroom windows, to the hallway and outside,&amp;nbsp;to keep a few of the boys from staring in.&amp;nbsp;They wrote threats about what they would do to me on the playground equipment and on the walls of the school. One night, I heard them outside our kitchen window making threats. That's when I started to get really scared. We talked about leaving many times. All the time. I just couldn't leave my kids. I couldn't walk away from their hugs and sweet faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few nights later, we heard yelling outside our house. One of the boys my boyfriend taught was yelling and screaming at us. He was clearly drunk or high. I called the police and told them I was worried he was going to hurt himself or someone else. Unfortunately there were only 2 police men. One was great. One was not. Mr. Not was on duty. An hour later that boy was smashing an axe through our front door. That night we packed our bags with the police stayed with us and we left on the plane the next day. I cried the whole way home wishing I could take so many of the children with us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boyfriend and I broke up when we got home to his parents' place. I flew home to Nova Scotia and was a mess. My doctor told me that he thought I had post traumatic stress disorder and wanted to prescribe some medication. I decided to wait and see how I did on my own. My family and friends, along with a life changing holiday to Stockholm, helped me move on. It seems like another lifetime now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely enough, it is the Olympics that started me thinking about my time there. At a time where we will all feel such pride to be Canadian I can`t help but feel a little shame for what has happened in the far corners of our home and native land. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want to say that I hope this post does not offend anyone. This is simply my experience of one community at one time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-7455398451372101991?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/7455398451372101991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-canada.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/7455398451372101991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/7455398451372101991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-canada.html' title='Oh Canada?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-252543799680352582</id><published>2010-02-02T17:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:49:02.349-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day R</title><content type='html'>So, I can be a real bitch to live with sometimes. Especially when I am pregnant or tired, which has basically been the past&amp;nbsp;three and a half&amp;nbsp;years. My husband has to deal with my tears, my crankiness, my complaining about how loudly he eats, breathes, moves. Well, you get the idea. What a lucky, lucky man, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure I owe him one and since I smashed my tailbone, and am currently on the 'injured list' it's not going to be in the bedroom. So he gets this instead. A letter from me. Just for the record, I am not writing it to get &lt;a href="http://www.tiffany.ca/Shopping/Item.aspx?fromGrid=1&amp;amp;sku=GRP02817&amp;amp;mcat=148204&amp;amp;cid=287458&amp;amp;search_params=s+5-p+2-c+287458-r+501323338+501432132-x+-n+6-ri+-ni+0-t+"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;or &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TJcVEz7mEKc/SzkhXNxhoSI/AAAAAAAAPy4/nC0AV1jjGSo/s400/14142_svcy_a0.jpeg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;for Valentine's Day. I am doing it because I love him. Honestly. I am. Well, maybe, if he wanted to, and was looking for ideas, he &lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt; get me &lt;a href="http://shop.lululemon.com/Swift_Tank/pd/c/530/np/530/p/1230.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. But only&amp;nbsp;if he wanted to. &lt;em&gt;Not &lt;/em&gt;because of this sweet letter I am about to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S2jUn5d5LXI/AAAAAAAAAbI/ADNAAGUmnkU/s1600-h/july+964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S2jUn5d5LXI/AAAAAAAAAbI/ADNAAGUmnkU/s200/july+964.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Dear R,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;You just came into our room, where I am hiding from the world and put socks on my feet because I said I was cold. Thank you. I just want you, and everyone else, to know that I love you. I have often told you that you make all of my dreams come true and you have, from moving to Europe to the biggest, happiest dreams of all, our sweet sweet little boys. This is a thank you just for you. To remind you when I am cranky, ungrateful, moody or sad that I always love you and I always will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Thank you for asking me to move in with you after only knowing me for 4 months, so that I would not have to move home to Nova Scotia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Thank you for letting me drag on shopping trips all over the world to find 'just the right' top/dress/shoes/magnet/painting/souvenir...whatever.&lt;/div&gt;Thank you for being the best and most fun dad any child could ask for.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for&amp;nbsp;listening to&amp;nbsp;my parents tell you that I came with a 'no returns policy' and dating me anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being the type of person that I can leave with my friend's husband that you had never met, and be cool about it.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for loving and accepting me for who I am. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for thinking and saying I am beautiful, even (especially) on days when I look awful.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being the best travel partner I could have asked for.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for not caring about decorating our home&amp;nbsp;but still listening to&amp;nbsp;all of my many ideas and&amp;nbsp;letting me do whatever I want.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for believing in me.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for taking out the garbage, moving the lawn and all of the other 'guy' stuff you do every week. (In our house cleaning toilets counts as guy stuff).&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for supporting my need to stay home with our boys. I know it is such a challenge for you.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for letting me drag you to Nova Scotia every summer to spend time with my (now our) family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for making me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being so completely involved in our sons' lives and being such a hands-on dad.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for working so hard to support our family. I know you would stay home with our boys if you could.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for planning our honeymoon and keeping it a surprise until we were getting ready to check in our bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="96" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S2jUn5d5LXI/AAAAAAAAAbI/ADNAAGUmnkU/s200/july+964.jpg" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 115px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 264px; visibility: hidden;" width="72" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There aren't words to thank you for being there for me during the past few months, which have been the hardest of my life. You have been there for me in ways I didn't know I would need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, my husband and my best friend. &lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentines Day&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-252543799680352582?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/252543799680352582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-valentines-day-r.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/252543799680352582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/252543799680352582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-valentines-day-r.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day R'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S2jUn5d5LXI/AAAAAAAAAbI/ADNAAGUmnkU/s72-c/july+964.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-3916249165515669476</id><published>2010-01-14T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:49:59.636-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='laugh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='interior design'/><title type='text'>Why I Don't Care That We Can't Afford A Stainless Steel Fridge</title><content type='html'>My kitchen is ugly, truly hideous and slightly embarrassing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's retro in the, "Oh my God, I can't believe that was &lt;em&gt;ever &lt;/em&gt;stylish" kind of way. The counters are fake wood. Barf. I&amp;nbsp;tried to make it better by painting&amp;nbsp;the cabinets and replacing the hardware, but with three fellas in the house they have seen better days. At least I have some great finger print samples&amp;nbsp;in case my husband ever goes missing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I am okay with is our white fridge. I know stainless steel fridges are the 'best' but I don't want one. Why, you ask? It's because of my fridge magnet collection. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Not kidding. It's okay, I don't mind if you laugh at me. I laugh at myself all of the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S091E_akmzI/AAAAAAAAAZw/mCYGTXRvlpU/s1600-h/IMG_0218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S091E_akmzI/AAAAAAAAAZw/mCYGTXRvlpU/s320/IMG_0218.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I really, honestly do have a collection of magnets that I started 10 years ago when I moved to Europe for the first time. They were a great little souvenir from all of my trips and now that my life has changed dramatically and I get excited just to leave the damn house, they serve as a great reminder of my former life. I'd like to say they were the &lt;em&gt;only&lt;/em&gt; purchase I made on each holiday but I have a few people (like everyone that came to visit us) that will tell you that I sent them home with bags and bags of 'stuff' and very clear instructions for how to store their (my) carry ons without breaking anything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S091ScQcSHI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/HAIu0j55H44/s1600-h/IMG_0228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S091ScQcSHI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/HAIu0j55H44/s200/IMG_0228.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Each time I open the fridge door, I get a peek at one that sends me back. Like this little gem from our trip to visit friends&amp;nbsp;for Oktoberfest in Munich. I can't actually remember all that much, but luckily we have video, right honey?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Looooots and lots of video. Of you. Not being able to lift your head. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I have more magnets. They used to be on the fridge too but &lt;em&gt;someone&lt;/em&gt; broke them by &lt;em&gt;accident&lt;/em&gt; and they now live here. Just until they get fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S091j4USLmI/AAAAAAAAAaA/_6n6HVmHX4Q/s1600-h/IMG_0212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S091j4USLmI/AAAAAAAAAaA/_6n6HVmHX4Q/s200/IMG_0212.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are getting our kitchen renovated in 8 months and I can't wait. I am thinking I may just want to upgrade my fridge so my magnets will have to find a new home. Out of reach of everyone in my house. Especially my husband.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-3916249165515669476?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/3916249165515669476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/01/why-i-dont-care-that-we-cant-afford.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3916249165515669476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3916249165515669476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/01/why-i-dont-care-that-we-cant-afford.html' title='Why I Don&apos;t Care That We Can&apos;t Afford A Stainless Steel Fridge'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S091E_akmzI/AAAAAAAAAZw/mCYGTXRvlpU/s72-c/IMG_0218.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-3742706546800893763</id><published>2010-01-01T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:55:52.352-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>We Do Not Remember Days, We Remember Moments</title><content type='html'>The past decade has been a crazy one for me. Each year holds some special memories that stand out from the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz624XNZGUI/AAAAAAAAALE/mjtuuHOxHOc/s1600-h/100_0675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz624XNZGUI/AAAAAAAAALE/mjtuuHOxHOc/s200/100_0675.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2000&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I went to visit a friend in Stockholm, Sweden for a 10 day holiday and decided on a whim to move there. This was one of the best decisions of my life. A beautiful place that holds so many happy and&amp;nbsp;hilarious memories! This is the school where I taught:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2001&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was not my favourite year. I came back to Canada because of a guy (dumb dumb dumb) and moved to Peterborough (dumber dumber dumber) and learned that I was not cut out for small town life anymore. I taught at a Catholic School even though I am so not religious. Sorry, no pics for this one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz64MUnSVjI/AAAAAAAAALU/ehRIl0geFhc/s1600-h/IM000019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz64MUnSVjI/AAAAAAAAALU/ehRIl0geFhc/s200/IM000019.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2002&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;This is the year I met Randy at an outdoor Great Big Sea concert in February. He asked me to move to Europe with him that night. I said yes. Holy crap, we look so young here. I think he may still have this shirt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2003&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz65RrTbX1I/AAAAAAAAALk/yfPcfe1bSrM/s1600/100_0651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz65RrTbX1I/AAAAAAAAALk/yfPcfe1bSrM/s200/100_0651.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz64vgSZzoI/AAAAAAAAALc/b1C6m6OC9i8/s1600-h/100_0810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz64vgSZzoI/AAAAAAAAALc/b1C6m6OC9i8/s200/100_0810.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Randy and I made the move to London, England. We had no place to live. I had been hired for my teaching position over the phone and Randy had no job. We had no television for months. We travelled all over Europe to places I had always dreamt of. We got to know our local and went out for curry once a week. The shopping, oh, the shopping. Pimms. We made friends that we will have for life. Loved every minute! Drunk in every photo, I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2004&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;More travelling: Octoberfest in Munich, Prague before Christmas, Venice&amp;nbsp;and more. Randy took me to stay in a castle in Scotland on my birthday.&amp;nbsp;He asked me to marry him in the courtyard of the Louvre. I said yes. We got drunk on champagne and called all of our friends and family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz664UuGajI/AAAAAAAAAL0/SkGYWaLIS34/s1600-h/000_0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz664UuGajI/AAAAAAAAAL0/SkGYWaLIS34/s200/000_0638.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz67UH1_GsI/AAAAAAAAAME/qR-rWCAwyoY/s1600-h/100_0110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz67UH1_GsI/AAAAAAAAAME/qR-rWCAwyoY/s200/100_0110.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz667cXEy7I/AAAAAAAAAL8/7tUkXiYU1WQ/s1600-h/000_0543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz667cXEy7I/AAAAAAAAAL8/7tUkXiYU1WQ/s200/000_0543.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz68fsHgx4I/AAAAAAAAAMM/cbNtM9ImcZE/s1600-h/100_0889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz68fsHgx4I/AAAAAAAAAMM/cbNtM9ImcZE/s200/100_0889.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2005&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Back to reality. We decided it was time to grow up and move home to Ontario. We bought a house, started new jobs and planned a wedding. I got to spend time with my BFFs and meet some of the greatest friends a girl could ask for. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz69fWrJ1MI/AAAAAAAAAMU/MfLo3VE1q9Q/s1600-h/gunn076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz69fWrJ1MI/AAAAAAAAAMU/MfLo3VE1q9Q/s200/gunn076.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2006&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Randy and I got married in in Nova Scotia and celebrated with our friends and family at White Point Beach Resort. The most fun wedding ever (if I do say so myself). I also ran my first race, the 8k Night Crawler, in Toronto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz6_A2ZV3RI/AAAAAAAAAMk/DKuljij5d2Q/s1600/gunn085.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz6_A2ZV3RI/AAAAAAAAAMk/DKuljij5d2Q/s200/gunn085.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz6-PbI5L6I/AAAAAAAAAMc/YmsxFzEnq04/s1600-h/gunn204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz6-PbI5L6I/AAAAAAAAAMc/YmsxFzEnq04/s200/gunn204.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz7Cmhd_o6I/AAAAAAAAAMs/heAIxL05--E/s1600-h/jacob+nova+scotia++oct.+2007+137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz7Cmhd_o6I/AAAAAAAAAMs/heAIxL05--E/s200/jacob+nova+scotia++oct.+2007+137.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The birth of my sweet baby boy, Jacob, was the greatest moment of my life. I had no idea you could love someone so so&amp;nbsp;much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;This was the year I got to watch my son do everything. I could not be more proud watching him learn and grow. We spent his first birthday in Nova Scotia.&amp;nbsp;Jacob took one handful of his cake and decided it would just be easier to stick his face right in and take a bite. Right some cute (as they say back home).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz7DSE7h5MI/AAAAAAAAAM8/BuPaUoX6hEQ/s1600-h/nova+scotia+July+2008+329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz7DSE7h5MI/AAAAAAAAAM8/BuPaUoX6hEQ/s200/nova+scotia+July+2008+329.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz7DKzxEtmI/AAAAAAAAAM0/Omjm2V679mU/s1600-h/nova+scotia+July+2008+321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz7DKzxEtmI/AAAAAAAAAM0/Omjm2V679mU/s200/nova+scotia+July+2008+321.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;The birth of my second sweet boy, Cooper ties for greatest moment of my life. It's amazing how, when you think you already love as much as you can, your heart opens up and makes room for more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz7EaXr1zoI/AAAAAAAAANE/GEk2igLJW54/s1600-h/Baby+Cooper!!+119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz7EaXr1zoI/AAAAAAAAANE/GEk2igLJW54/s200/Baby+Cooper!!+119.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;What are your favourite moments of the past decade?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-3742706546800893763?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/3742706546800893763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-do-not-remember-days-we-remember.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3742706546800893763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3742706546800893763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-do-not-remember-days-we-remember.html' title='We Do Not Remember Days, We Remember Moments'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sz624XNZGUI/AAAAAAAAALE/mjtuuHOxHOc/s72-c/100_0675.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-4020165416424774973</id><published>2009-12-04T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:50:53.540-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='interior design'/><title type='text'>Cheap &amp; Cheerful Christmas Decorating</title><content type='html'>I read a great post by &lt;a href="http://simplyfrugalcanada.blogspot.com/2009/12/decorating-frugally-for-christmas.html"&gt;Simply Frugal&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;today about decorating for Christmas on a budget. There were some fun creative ideas for using items in a new way to create a holiday feeling in your home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have always loved Christmas, the kind of love that requires 8 large tupperware containers full of Christmas Crap, I thought I would share some of my budget saver decorating ideas too. I have been a SAHM for almost 3 years now so the days of splurging are few and far between, but that doesn't mean that I can't find ways to deck the halls (and splurge on a&lt;em&gt; few &lt;/em&gt;things).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. FRAME IT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Michaels, the girl's version of a hardware store...I head in for one thing and come out with a shopping cart full...and I grabbed some Christmas scrapbook paper. I used the frames I already had in our living room, picked my favourite coordinating patterns and grouped them together: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sxm9ZHvhwDI/AAAAAAAAAKE/j26ockDj2cs/s1600-h/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" er="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sxm9ZHvhwDI/AAAAAAAAAKE/j26ockDj2cs/s320/021.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I also hung these two:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sxm-ZYtpieI/AAAAAAAAAKU/5SrqC4vKl5k/s1600-h/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" er="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sxm-ZYtpieI/AAAAAAAAAKU/5SrqC4vKl5k/s200/020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sxm-DgsrG2I/AAAAAAAAAKM/S7i1EA0JpMI/s1600-h/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" er="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sxm-DgsrG2I/AAAAAAAAAKM/S7i1EA0JpMI/s200/008.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. FAKE IT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the &lt;em&gt;only&lt;/em&gt; time you will hear me say those words. I'm talking plants of course. They 'live' forever, look great and are no maintenance. I bought these three at Ikea with the red pots. I replaced the candles in my lanterns and my beachy room is now Christmafied. Ignore my reflection please. Santa should really buy me some photography lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sxm_zOvv59I/AAAAAAAAAKc/KOBb2svIn78/s1600-h/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" er="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sxm_zOvv59I/AAAAAAAAAKc/KOBb2svIn78/s320/005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. MAKE IT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to brighten up your kids room paint them some winter art on a canvas. It's a lot easier than you think and they will love the new addition to their space! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/SxnAl7Dm3BI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Z_xTXz_poyo/s1600-h/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" er="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/SxnAl7Dm3BI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Z_xTXz_poyo/s200/026.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I painted these Santas using pieces of driftwood 15+ years ago and even though they are a bit 80s, I still like the rustic look. You can use any pieces of old, worn wood for this project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/SxnBBI__6lI/AAAAAAAAAK0/eC1xpagpaHM/s1600-h/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" er="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/SxnBBI__6lI/AAAAAAAAAK0/eC1xpagpaHM/s320/030.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;4. BUY IT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you find something you really love and can't live without, treat yourself. I found these stockings at Pottery Barn Kids for my boys. They match the tree topper that I bought there last year. I love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/SxnBn1jjgKI/AAAAAAAAAK8/3yw36rA9t3A/s1600-h/sock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" er="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/SxnBn1jjgKI/AAAAAAAAAK8/3yw36rA9t3A/s320/sock.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;(photo from Potterybarnkids.com)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is going to be really tough for my family this year and, in many ways, I just want it to be over. The one thing I am grateful for is the distraction that all of these little projects have offered. They have kept my mind busy and I hope has made our home a&amp;nbsp;cheerful place for my boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you and your family a very happy holiday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-4020165416424774973?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/4020165416424774973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2009/12/cheap-cheerful-christmas-decorating.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/4020165416424774973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/4020165416424774973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2009/12/cheap-cheerful-christmas-decorating.html' title='Cheap &amp; Cheerful Christmas Decorating'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Sxm9ZHvhwDI/AAAAAAAAAKE/j26ockDj2cs/s72-c/021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-4977601918794337365</id><published>2009-11-17T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:56:34.304-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Thank You Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/SwA4eObU6EI/AAAAAAAAAJU/YUiuvo7tNIw/s1600-h/nova+scotia+July+2008+447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404381644764538946" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/SwA4eObU6EI/AAAAAAAAAJU/YUiuvo7tNIw/s200/nova+scotia+July+2008+447.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 200px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 150px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Lately I find myself thinking of all of the things I wish I had said to Dad. I said it all in my goodbye to him after he was gone and I like to think he heard me and I hope more than anything that he already knew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I discovered is that you think you have all of the time in the world to show people how much they mean to you, but now I know that is not true. So I decided to write a thank you letter to my mother and tell her how special she is. I sent it via snail mail but I've included it here: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never realized until I had my own children how difficult (and wonderful) being a mother is. I just wanted to say thank you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for sharing your love of the ocean. There is no better place to be then at the beach. I owe that feeling to you. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for introducing me to the word of books. One of my favourite things to do is escape into a great read. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for decorating my room with Strawberry Shortcake. I loved it! &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for laughing at my mistakes instead of judging them (Moooom, I did something really bad). &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the Easter treasure hunts. I can’t wait to try that with Cooper and Jacob. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for painting the mural in Jacob’s room with me. I am sure I would not have had the guts to do it alone. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your love of music. Randy still thinks I’m crazy when I crank my tunes, but I know where I got that from. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for baking the Christmas cookies we decorated every year. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for loving me even when I was obnoxious (which I know I was a lot). &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for raising me to believe that I could do and be whatever I wanted, with the confidence to try new things and to go new places. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being there when I needed you with advice, a recipe or a great teaching idea. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being such a great example. It is because of you that I tried to be a loving, creative and fun teacher. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the long drives by the ocean and the stops for ice cream. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the thoughtful gifts you have bought me. You have great taste. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for letting me come into your classroom and work with your students and trusting me to go into your friends’ classrooms too. It made me feel I could do that one day. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the sacrifices you made as a parent, working full time. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being my Euchre partner. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for baking Come and Get ‘Em Cookies. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for how much you love my boys. I can’t tell you how much I love the relationship you have with Jacob and will have with Cooper. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for making me peanut butter sandwiches with a heart in the middle when I was sick. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being there whenever I call with a question, no matter how trivial. Like “How do I boil an egg?” &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for helping me with school projects, even when they were last minute. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all our family Christmas traditions. I love sharing them with my family. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the times we spent with Grammy and Big Em. I always loved those visits. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for having a sense of humour and loving to laugh. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for countless trips to the beach for lounging, walking, reading, chips and, if we are brave, dips in the water. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the birthday cake making tips. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for time spent playing Shanghai and building puzzles. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for introducing me to jigzone. What a great way to waste time. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for coming to visit Randy and I in London. We loved having you both there. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for giving me advice on being a kinder person. I am working on it. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being here for the birth of both of my boys. Having you here kept me calmer and less afraid (believe it or not). &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all of the great Kiss of Death Tour memories. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for introducing me to Coronation Street. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all that you did for my wedding. You made it so special when you said your speech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, thank you, thank you, for a million things, for everything. I don’t know what I would do without you. There are so many more things, small things, big things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say it again, Mom. Thank you with all my heart, and I want to tell you that I love you so very, very much and that I am so proud to tell people that you are my mother. I hope that I can do a great job being a mom just like you are and have been to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Sarah Jane &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to post this because I am hoping that this will spark/inspire one of you to write a letter to someone you love...a parent, child, husband, wife, friend, brother, sister, grandparent. Some of you know the heartache of losing someone you love: the missing, the wishing, the tears, so I think this will make more sense to you, but for those of you lucky enough to still have everyone you hold close in your heart please think of doing this too...it can only lead to good. I found myself laughing and crying at the memories that came flooding back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was debating whether to send the letter to my mother now, or to wait, my great Twitter friends encouraged me to send it now. One friend (thanks Consuelo @cbernardi)sent me this quote from Maya Angelou: 'I've learned people forget what you said and what you did but people never forget how you made them feel.' I am hoping this letter makes my mom feel cherished, appreciated and loved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to know if you do choose to write a thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-4977601918794337365?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/4977601918794337365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2009/11/letter-to-my-mom.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/4977601918794337365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/4977601918794337365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2009/11/letter-to-my-mom.html' title='Thank You Mom'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/SwA4eObU6EI/AAAAAAAAAJU/YUiuvo7tNIw/s72-c/nova+scotia+July+2008+447.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-4559065251276963651</id><published>2009-10-23T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:57:11.818-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>My Dad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Su-gV2Ih8NI/AAAAAAAAAJE/s59zjr9-atU/s1600-h/nova+scotia+July+2008+089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399710775409504466" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Su-gV2Ih8NI/AAAAAAAAAJE/s59zjr9-atU/s200/nova+scotia+July+2008+089.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 150px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing can prepare you for that early morning phone call telling you that someone you love is gone forever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My older brother had the unbearable task of calling me at 5:40 in the morning 4 weeks ago to tell me that our father was gone. I did not know it was possible to feel so much pain. I was inconsolable. What kept running through my mind, and still does, was that he died 9 days before I was heading home to Nova Scotia to see him. 9 days. 9 days. 9 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband, who has been so amazing and supportive, had us all on a plane and home that night. We said goodbye to my dad two days later. I had a panic attack for the first time in my life that morning. How was I going to be strong for my mom? In the end I wasn't. It was such a shock to see my dad that I didn't handle it well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad was out for a walk, doing what he loved. He didn't suffer. He lived for 17 years after quadruple bipass surgery. He walked me down the isle at my wedding. He met my two boys. All of these things should make me feel luckier than some, including my husband who lost his dad 8 years ago. But it doesn't. All I feel is heartbroken, cheated, angry and lost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all I feel denial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so much easier to pretend that he is not gone and to imagine he is just out and will be back again soon. I wonder when it will sink in that he is really gone forever? I spend every moment on the verge of tears thinking of the what ifs and wishing it wasn't true. I didn't know that grief could be so physically painful. I took a pregnancy test today because I was worried the nausea was morning sickness. Thankfully I am not pregnant. That would have been too much to bear right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My children now have no grandfather. It aches so much to write that. I had so many images in my head of all of things Grampy would teach my boys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things I will miss about him: the stories he told over and over and over until I could say them word for word, the silly jokes, the words that Dad made up like wrastle instead of wrestle, the way he said P O P instead of pop, watching him play with my son (his little buddy), going for walks together down Green Bay road, trips to the beach, playing Euchre and 'going blind', the Kiss of Death Tour (long story) we took every summer, going to the store to get me a treat even though I am 35 years old, his laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worry about my mom so much and wish I could take some of her pain away. I know as awful as I am feeling right now, it is so much harder for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I will ever be the same, if our family will ever be as happy as we were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to also say thank you to each of you that have reached out with your kind words and support. It really does help to know that others care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-4559065251276963651?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/4559065251276963651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-dad.html#comment-form' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/4559065251276963651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/4559065251276963651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-dad.html' title='My Dad'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/Su-gV2Ih8NI/AAAAAAAAAJE/s59zjr9-atU/s72-c/nova+scotia+July+2008+089.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5559827898920725629.post-3833337849912708617</id><published>2009-10-06T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:51:14.738-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Mommy In The House</title><content type='html'>I am a stay at home mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sentence can be interpreted so many ways. It can invoke happiness, envy, loneliness, gratitude and embarrassment. I waffle between a few of those depending on the day so here are my top 5 reasons I love and struggle staying at home with my little guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top 5 Reasons I Love Being a SAHM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I love my boys more than I thought I could love anyone and I am genuinely excited that I get to watch each and every new discovery and achievement they make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I am there for my little guys if they get hurt, are sick or need a cuddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I can stay in my pink cupcake pjs all day and no one gives a care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I get to explore the idea of following the dream of painting art for children as my new career. If this baby ever gets into a routine I'm going to get right on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I think that I would be awful at trying to balance work with family. My husband works long hours so it would be up to me to do pick ups, drop offs and all that good stuff. I would resent him for that I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top 5 Reasons I Struggle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Our family made a financial sacrifice for me to stay home. This can cause some major blowouts between my husband and I. He plans 5 years in advance and likes to pay off the credit card every month. I like to plan my next outfit and would shop all day, every day. We miss out on travelling and other luxuries we were used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. It can be so very lonely staying at home. I worked at a great school with the most fun people I have ever met. I miss them and I miss the social interaction. Thank God I have friends that stay home too, that make me laugh and that have kids that my little boy loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I have felt a loss of identity having given up my career. I walked away from the best job I have ever had at the greatest school. I remember taking my son to a farm and seeing a teacher with her class and I wanted to say: I used to do that. I am a teacher too. But the truth is, I'm not a teacher anymore. That makes me sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I don't really get to leave the house on my own. I often think that if I worked, I could run errands with my hands free of strollers, diaper bags and sippy cups. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I could dress up more. I love clothes and although lululemon makes me very happy, I miss wearing pretty clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though there are times that staying home is tough for me, I have absolutely no regrets. My boys are so much fun and growing up so fast that sometimes I wish life had a pause button. If my boys ever read this (oh look hubby, I'm planning for the future)I would want them to know that they are the greatest thing that life could ever ever give me. That doesn't mean that I don't have the occasional pity party with my good friend Ruffles but, hey, who doesn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, phew, first blog post done. And yes, I am wearing the same pink pjs I have worn all day. These ones have polka dots though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5559827898920725629-3833337849912708617?l=lovelaughshop.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/feeds/3833337849912708617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2009/10/mommy-in-house.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3833337849912708617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5559827898920725629/posts/default/3833337849912708617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovelaughshop.blogspot.com/2009/10/mommy-in-house.html' title='Mommy In The House'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08557897905733042773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tKuBrlZ8kxA/S3B9ebyg01I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/ql1SzH3JT9o/S220/053.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
