<?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-2833327219308581898</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:29:07.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"La vita e bella..."</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.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-2833327219308581898.post-652454981406899175</id><published>2010-06-09T22:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T23:30:06.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Higher Education</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/TBBcIuIa8YI/AAAAAAAAAB0/fIUCbRLQAtQ/s1600/DSC_0132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/TBBcIuIa8YI/AAAAAAAAAB0/fIUCbRLQAtQ/s320/DSC_0132.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480982051401953666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2002 I received my undergraduate degree. It was a big day in my life. In 2004 I received my graduate degree. It was an even bigger day in my life. On January 21, 2010 I received my "mom" degree. This by all means, was the biggest day of my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up until then I was working full time plus a part-time job. I was career woman! Even when pregnant I was plugging away at my career, attending trainings to keep my social work license active, and long hours at work didn't phase me- even during my third trimester when I could no longer see my feet! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I knew that once Cora was born, I would leave the busy career life behind and trade my DSM-IV in for "What to Expect the First Year." It was our plan. About two months prior to me getting pregnant I had landed a part-time job working just two nights a week doing outpatient counseling for kids. The goal was to one day, when we started a family, that I would work just part time so that I could be mom by day and therapist by night. For once our plan matched up with God's and here we are today living out that exact strategy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit, when I first realized that it would be many years, if any, that I would once again return to the working world full-time, I had a bit of an identity crisis. Here I was a motivated young woman, eager to climb to the top in my career to suddenly find myself no longer needing to iron my clothes on Sunday night and no need to post a "TGIF" on FB. Everyday automatically became a "TGIF".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself almost to embarrassed to say "I'm a stay at home mom." I have never once knocked the decision of any woman that was in a position to stay home and raise their kids. I always found it to be admirable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But admiration seems to escape you when you are living the part. I felt like I lost my identity as a "strong woman" and now was the "little wife." Not that anyone was making me feel this way at all. It all came from me. So I made sure I told people that I work part-time still in my career field so as to validate myself as a "successful woman".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, as time goes by, I have fallen in love with this new "degree". I do still work part-time and I would be lying if I said it was only to keep my clinical license up to date. The reality is that it gives me some time away from "mom land" and I can also role model the importance of going forth with an education and career to be successful in the working world for my daughter. My mother did both and I am the person I am today because of her. I want to pass that on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I didn't realize that when I idolized my mom for being a "career woman" an an active mother in my life, I had it backwards the whole time. My mom was a mom first. Her job worked around us. I get it now. Because I am doing it now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't miss the stress of worrying about sick or vacation time. If my kid is sick, it's ok, because I am home. If Hubs gets to go to a conference somewhere awesome, that's awesome cause I have all the vacation time in the world! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can be the PTA mom, a T-ball coach, car pooling, coupon-clipping, homemaker, and therapist all at the same time. I looked at my husband the other night and for the first time since I left my full-time job, I said with 100% sincerity, "I don't miss it." I love waking up  each morning and drinking my coffee from an actual mug instead of a travel mug. PJ's are pretty much dress code until I have to leave the house. I only work 2 nights a week so my "Mondays" are actually Tuesday and my "Fridays" are Wednesdays. My work clothes rotation extends quite a bit now as I only need to get dressed twice a week! And the money I save on gas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, I am here for my daughter. Here for her good days and not so good. Here for the milestones and the Dr. appts. Here for her. I am blessed that we are in a position to allow me to stay home. But then again, I know me and Hubs, if we weren't in the position, we would change our lifestyle so that we would be. Think about it, when you were in college, you did whatever you needed to do to try to get into that one class that you absolutely needed. Well, mothering is one hell of a class to sign up for!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Cora you WILL go to college, it's not an option. And you will learn to support yourself one day. But if your destiny is to marry and have children, I hope that you learn from me what I learned from my mother, that this is a world where you can do both. But to remember your priorities and to keep them straight. And that I make mini-vans look cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-652454981406899175?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/652454981406899175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2010/06/higher-education.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/652454981406899175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/652454981406899175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2010/06/higher-education.html' title='Higher Education'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/TBBcIuIa8YI/AAAAAAAAAB0/fIUCbRLQAtQ/s72-c/DSC_0132.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-1158094307625768336</id><published>2010-04-27T08:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T09:08:35.772-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I've learned so far....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/S9bhw2Xj5QI/AAAAAAAAABk/GK-aQdQKvLQ/s1600/IMG_0227.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/S9bhw2Xj5QI/AAAAAAAAABk/GK-aQdQKvLQ/s320/IMG_0227.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464803427204982018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so we have been parent's for three months and as any parent knows, you learn A LOT about you, your child, and your marriage in such a short amount of time. So here is a list of what I have learned so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Newborns are cute and snugly, but boring compared to a 3 month old!&lt;br /&gt;2. The first time your child smiles at you, it's probably gas.&lt;br /&gt;3. The first time your child intentionally smiles at you, it's a natural high (like you huffed gas!).&lt;br /&gt;4. Babies can projectile fluids from BOTH ends.&lt;br /&gt;5. Diapers are the death of your income.&lt;br /&gt;6. Our mothers seem to forget every negative thing about raising a child and are convinced that the times your kid is fussy that there must be something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;7. Babies are fussy. A lot. Nothing is wrong with your child. They just are.&lt;br /&gt;8. Daytime TV sucks.&lt;br /&gt;9. You initially missed being at work, then you began to love grocery shopping on a random Tuesday morning.&lt;br /&gt;10. Your husband amazes you with his "daddy skills."&lt;br /&gt;11. Your dog amazes you with her intuition on protecting the baby.&lt;br /&gt;12. You learned to nurse without having to take your whole shirt off.&lt;br /&gt;13. Diaper bags never seem to be big enough.&lt;br /&gt;14. Both you and baby need wardrobe changes frequently.&lt;br /&gt;15. You can walk around with spit-up on me all day and not even notice.&lt;br /&gt;16. Wiping your own kids nose on your sleeve isn't as gross as you think.&lt;br /&gt;17. You covet that first glass of wine or beer that you can have!&lt;br /&gt;18. Babies don't sleep as often as the books say they should.&lt;br /&gt;19. Babies never do what the books say they should.&lt;br /&gt;20. In an instant, your world changes completely to revolving around the needs and care of the most precious gift possible, and you are willing to do what ever it takes to make her little life as perfect as you can. :O)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-1158094307625768336?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/1158094307625768336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-ive-learned-so-far.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/1158094307625768336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/1158094307625768336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-ive-learned-so-far.html' title='What I&apos;ve learned so far....'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/S9bhw2Xj5QI/AAAAAAAAABk/GK-aQdQKvLQ/s72-c/IMG_0227.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-4931053454288117877</id><published>2010-04-27T08:25:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T07:21:55.434-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Season premier!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/S9bbXYOowqI/AAAAAAAAABc/_cN0c9zG10Q/s1600/%7B7d4d08ae-0846-4d13-ba95-64cee523ec0d%7D_8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/S9bbXYOowqI/AAAAAAAAABc/_cN0c9zG10Q/s320/%7B7d4d08ae-0846-4d13-ba95-64cee523ec0d%7D_8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464796392547992226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; so I realize I have not written since November. For one, I was very pregnant by the end of the year and my sausage fingers were not in any condition to type! But I will bring you up to speed on my life. Think of this as a season premier with a recap from what happened last season!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will start with the arrival of our precious little Orange Seed,  now known as Coraline Michele ("Cora") when she entered our world on January 21, 2010...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; here's the back-story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So two days prior to Cora's debut  (1/19) my body started to show some signs that it was  preparing for childbirth. However these "signs" (details are not  necessary nor appealing!) did not indicate that labor would start within  2 days, it could still have been a week or more away but nonetheless  things were starting to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day before I went to the mall to walk around in hopes that I  would walk myself into labor. At that time I thought it was an  unsuccessful attempt! But did treat myself to some new makeup :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then comes Thursday morning (1/21) and the  fastest day of my life! At about 3am Thursday morning I woke up with  significant lower back pains. At first I thought I had over done it at  the  mall so I did not think too much about it. I was hungry (which  during those last weeks it was not uncommon for me to grab a 3am bowl of  cereal!) so I went downstairs to eat and hung out with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bazil&lt;/span&gt;. Still  noticing my back pain, I began to pay closer attention and realized that  these pains were somewhat rhythmical and that this could very well be  labor. I believe that this is the point to which I had an out of body  experience and just watched the rest of this wild day from afar as it  just did not seem real! :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about 5am I woke John up and told him that I was pretty confident  that I was have regular contractions. He popped right up and was  elated. I however wanted to strangle him as the pain continued to  increase! :O) We decided to hold off on calling the doctor as the  contractions were still somewhat irregular (but strong!) and we  conveniently had a 930am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Drs&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt;, So at 6 we got up and showered, I  did my makeup (glad I bought that!) figuring that would be the last time in a while that I  wold have the chance too, and off we went to the docs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go tot the docs early and the receptionist questioned why. I told  her that I was pretty sure I was in labor and the whole office erupted  in excitement (this apparently doesn't get old for people who deal with  this on a daily basis). So we sat in the waiting room waiting for the  doc to get there as she was not expecting an early &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt;. As I sat there  the receptionist would keep an eye on me and when I would have a  contraction she would ask me and then talk about how much it probably  hurt. Thanks lady, like I really wanted to focus on the pain. So instead  I channeled my focus to imagining that I was going to punch her instead. It  helped!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:30 FINALLY came and when Doc checked me out I was 4 cm dilated  already. She sent me on down the hall to the delivery end and there  waiting was my epidural! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Wooooo&lt;/span&gt;! Don't get me wrong, those that go  natural with child birth more power to ya, but I'm not one of them! When  I go to a dentist to have my teeth pulled I want Novocaine. When I am  about to experience the worst pain of my life, I want the BIG TIME  Novocaine! John left the room for the administration of it  (understandably as I wouldn't want to watch a giant needle plunging into  my spine!).Within minutes relief came and John and I were able to just  kick back and watch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; until the big moment....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which came later that afternoon! At 2:15 I paged the nurse and let  her know that I felt like there was pressure that made me want to push.  She came in and laughed when she checked me as she had no idea that a  first time pregnancy would move so quickly! So she began the process of  pushing with me and told me most moms push for the first kid for about 2  hours.  50 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; later at 3:11 our little one was here! It was quite  surreal as we were just chatting it up between pushes with the doc (did I  mention that I LOVE the epidural?)  and I remember lying there  thinking, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Umm&lt;/span&gt; there's a kid about to pop out of me and here we are  talking about random stuff as if we are waiting for our pizza to get  here." But instead of a pizza was a 8lb 5.7oz 21inch long baby girl that  was plopped onto my lap after John cut the cord. (He by the way was  awesome through the whole delivery-encouraging, relaxing and exciting as  all heck!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the rest is history. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Bazil&lt;/span&gt; has adjusted very well to becoming a big sister and she can't get enough of Cora. Hubs and I are loving our role of being parents and it is no doubt what we were meant to do together. And Cora has assumed her role quite well and has provided many entertaining moments! But more about those in upcoming episodes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-4931053454288117877?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/4931053454288117877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2010/04/season-primer.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/4931053454288117877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/4931053454288117877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2010/04/season-primer.html' title='Season premier!'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/S9bbXYOowqI/AAAAAAAAABc/_cN0c9zG10Q/s72-c/%7B7d4d08ae-0846-4d13-ba95-64cee523ec0d%7D_8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-2450020947869033049</id><published>2009-11-21T20:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T21:15:40.681-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bedtime Stories...</title><content type='html'>So it's been a while dear blogg, my sincere apologizes for being so lax in my blogging duties...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself sitting here on a Saturday night as a pot of Chicken Riggies slowly simmer on the stove, Christmas music playing quietly from my computer, hubs in the other room playing on his computer, and Bazil scampering around the house unable to decide if she wants to sleep or play, so she does both!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not just any Saturday night, it's the 21st of November. Today my father would have been 67 years old. Now no sympathies needed as I am at peace with his passing, however, it does bring a bitter sweet emotion thinking about him. Bare with me blogg, as I may jump around a little as I stroll down memory lane...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what he would look like? Gray hair, same build, probably tan from living in a warm climate as my mom desires, same mustache, and wearing golf shirts with elastic waisted pants!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call my mom every day but make special note to call on my father's birthday. We don't dwell on the fact that he is gone, instead it's an unsaid understanding as to why I am calling and "checking in on her" as I often do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There isn't a day that passes that I don't think of my dad. Heck, I see him staring back at me every morning in the mirror (thanks for the honker of a nose dad!). But during the holidays, and now especially as I sit here almost 8 months pregnant, I find myself day dreaming of what both past memories and fictional pictures of what life would be like if he were alive today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, Bazil must realize I am in a thoughtful mood as she kindly just dropped her toy squirrel on my lap and laid at my feet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, back to the day dreams....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving was a pretty laid back holiday at our house. Mom took the reigns in the kitchen (which we all stayed out of as it was just a safer option, trust me), and the rest of us would hang out watching the Macy's Day Parade and random movies on TV. My dad was not at all interested in football so thankfully we got to veggitate watching Turner Classic Movies and eating nuts out of the cornucopia that my mom would fill each year. Dinner would be served and then, bam, off to sleep we all fell on the couch...my head usually laying on my dad's lap where I could hear the gurgling of his stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas was a little more chaotic. For many years we spent them at my grandparents house. But as we got older, we started staying at our home. Midnight mass was a tradition, as was eating seafood all night and busting into the shrimp cocktail at 1am after church. Dad would light a fire and (after we stopped believing in Santa) we would open presents, allowing us to sleep in Christmas morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid, I always wondered why we were the only family that left wine and cheese for Santa and sometimes even a powdered jelly donuts. My dad had good taste!  I look forward to hubs and I  creating our own special treat for Santa. I can see us leaving rice crispy treats with a mug of hot chocolate, two of John's favorites. :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite New Years Eve (also my birthday) was when my dad had maybe 2 or 3 at the most glasses of wine. My dad was somewhat of a light weight when it came to the alcohol scene. Ironically, both my brother's take after him and my mom and I can punch a bottle of wine back with no worries (that helped a LOT in college mom, thanks!). But there was my dad, happy as can be, ringing an old antique bell that we had hung while wearing chef's hat and wishing us a Happy New Year. Classic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These day's I find myself wondering what it would be like to see my dad as a grandpa. No doubt in my mind he would be amazing. Kind, patient, innovated...all amazing qualities that a grandpa would have. I know he has been watching over me as my pregnancy continues to progress and I love and embrace the times that I remind myself of him. Whether it's when I am in the kitchen, cooking and singing like he used to, or finding myself with unexplained patience at times that I should be frustrated, I know these are the moments where my father's legacy carry on through me and will ultimately be passed to his grandchild...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kid is going to be the luckiest in the world...I'll have great bedtime stories to share with him/her about a courageous, honorable, loving man. A man named Grandpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well blogg, Bazil is demanding some attention. I'll leave you with this: I bet my dad would have loved this dog and I have no doubt that she would have absolutely licked him to pieces!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-2450020947869033049?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/2450020947869033049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/11/bedtime-stories.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/2450020947869033049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/2450020947869033049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/11/bedtime-stories.html' title='Bedtime Stories...'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-7466252370398221212</id><published>2009-07-30T22:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T23:11:44.983-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Adventures of Orange Seed Cont'd...</title><content type='html'>So since I have been preggers, I have learned much about myself and how pregnancy changes everything there is about you! Since this adventure has begun, I have successfully grown cahoonas that would make Dolly Parton jealous and now sport the ever so sexy pregnancy panel pants (they look like normal pants till you see that instead of a waist there's this amazing stretchy fabric that leaves room to grow! Not to mention they actually give me a butt!) and the pregger shirts. For whatever reason, it apparently is desired by those that design pregnancy clothes to give EVERYTHING poofy sleeves. Like Deb's sleeves in Napoleon Dynamite. Arg! I am ANYTHING but a poofy kind of gal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cravings? That's a common question. Well there was an incident with a sudden disgust for a pasta salad that I usually love. I opened the fridge, took it out, and immediately had to wrap it back up and run away. Fast. Another night we went to Red Robin which is a great burger place. For WHATEVER reason when I saw that there was chicken parm on the menu, I had to have it. No questions asked. Ok, now read that line again..I, a Fazio, grandparents from the mother land, Utica native, ate an Italian dish from  BURGER JOINT. Hubs advised strongly against it but I was insistent. And I was wrong. Dead wrong. Like the I might as well have worn a Red Sox hat at a Yankee game kind of wrong. Two bites later I was sufficiently nauseous and ready to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had the undying desire to eat pickles...at 11pm. Odd night time snack but hey, better than a sacrilege ordering of Italian food in a burger place. Today I packed away half of a GIANT cup cake that was calling to me at the store. Orange Seed was quite content with this choice..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another great side effect to pregnancy, increased ability to be a bitch. Yes! I typically am a very passive person that probably tolerates way too much. I have  a lot of "inside thoughts" but filter them well and speak more kindly than I probably should. Well, good bye filter, hello blunt and sarcastic remarks! I must say that this new found bitchness within me is very valuable in the work setting, especially when it comes to annoying co-workers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On July 2nd, hubs and I and our first ultrasound...and once again, all modesty went out the door! As we waited in the exam room, I made the mistake to look at the machine and saw this large wand-like item draped over it. This can't be good. What happened to the external ones that you see in the movies all the time? Like when they squirt the goop on your belly and they rub the little machine over you and there's your baby!? Well FYI the FIRST one is an internal exam since the baby isn't big enough to see with the external exam yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the tech comes in and she explains to me and hubs what she is going to do. In goes the femur-sized scope and up on the screen pops our little baby! So as this woman is swishing this wand around in me like she's freaking Harry Potter, I attempt to stay distracted by watching hub's face as he is enthralled in awe of the image on the screen. Oh, did I mention, I can't see the screen yet.  Nope, Harry Potter needs to do a overhaul on the whole area before and once she was done I was privvied to the experience! She was a sweet lady, she even apologised for leaning on my knee..really? My knee? You're casting spells in my womb, you've gone where no woman ever has and ever will have gone before and you're apologizing for leaning on my knee. Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, once the Defense Against the Dark Arts class was completed, she turned the monitor my way and there it was... a little blob, aka, our little Orange Seed. We saw it flinch (I say "it since we are not finding out what we are having) and when we heard the heartbeat Hubs squeezed my hand and we just took in the amazing miracle before us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I have attached Orange Seed's first pics! Awe in our miracle and try not to connect that the pics are of my intimate innards...its weird. :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SnJgBSWsFTI/AAAAAAAAABQ/oc-n7owGDPI/s1600-h/070209+Ultrasound+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SnJgBSWsFTI/AAAAAAAAABQ/oc-n7owGDPI/s320/070209+Ultrasound+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364455681374819634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SnJgBPJ9yEI/AAAAAAAAABI/jR86_5LG7f4/s1600-h/070209+Ultra+Sound+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SnJgBPJ9yEI/AAAAAAAAABI/jR86_5LG7f4/s320/070209+Ultra+Sound+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364455680516147266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-7466252370398221212?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/7466252370398221212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/07/adventures-of-orange-seed-contd.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/7466252370398221212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/7466252370398221212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/07/adventures-of-orange-seed-contd.html' title='The Adventures of Orange Seed Cont&apos;d...'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SnJgBSWsFTI/AAAAAAAAABQ/oc-n7owGDPI/s72-c/070209+Ultrasound+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-4217257550168592919</id><published>2009-07-30T21:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T22:25:11.092-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Adventures of Orange Seed...</title><content type='html'>Ok so as my darling (and newly married) sister-in-law has pointed out I have abandoned my Blogging responsibilities for too long! So sit back relax and enjoy this lengthy update on my life! (don't worry, I promise to make it entertaining...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's rewind to a life changing day this past May, May 19th to be exact. This was the day that one little stick and two blue lines changed our lives. Yes my dear bloggies, I m pregnant. Bun-in-the oven, on a 9 month alcohol fast,  mini Buddha...and whatever else you want to refer to this as! That moment that the faint plus sign appeared I ran into our bedroom to tell John. He was in disbelief (we had been trying for a while) and had me test again. Then again later that day with a digital test (aka an engineer's piss stick). Four tests later he believed the news and instant excitement and worry filled us both! Bazil was quite excited but was more interested in her Greenie at the time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later we were in the car on our way to Utica for my sister-in-law's bachelorette weekend (go fig that the time we finally get pregnant is when I have a weekend planned at the vineyards in NY). All the way to NY hubs and I debated on if we should tell our family. Most people wait until they are out of the high risk zone (end of first tri-mester) but we decided that we couldn't wait and we would want our family's love and support no matter how things went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we pulled into the driveway with the biggest news of our lives and no one had a single idea. We did our usual hugs and hellos when we got there and small talk on top of it. finally we go to the time when we wanted to give my mother-in-law her Mother's Day gift. As she opened it hubs informed her that we didn't have enough notice to get her a Grandmother's gift. It took a minute or so for her and my sis-in-law to realize that we for once were not referring to our pup, and instead that a human- two-legged-thumbed child was the news. Instant tears and hugs followed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the phone call to my mom! When I asked her if she was ready for another kid to call her "Mima" she told me that I better not be talking about another dog and that this better have two legs (sensing a trend?). Once confirmed that this grandchild would eat form the table and not from a bowl on the floor, she instantly started with the questions and then not even an hour later began emailing me links to different baby sites. The baby was referred to as "Orange Seed" since that was what size it was at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we had this BIG secret that up until a few days before, only Bazil and my nurse at work knew beyond us. The fam was sworn to secretcy until after my sis-in-laws wedding in June, about a month away. Not too hard to keep right? WRONG! Let's again remember what my obligations were that weekend: a vineyard hopping bachelorette weekend!  Ahh! So the plan was for my sis-in-law to stay by my side and drink up my samples. We would play it off as me being a responsible DD (even though anyone who knows me knows that I can certainly handle my wine in LARGE quantities), and that I would find pleasure in getting the bride-to -be intoxicated at 2pm. Ironically it was a plan that worked quite well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So time went by and we hid the morning sickness (which for me was really just an undying need to eat ALL the time or else I would feel like crap-not too different from my usual self!) from friends, family and coworkers (probably the hardest to keep from since they saw me the most). The only one's that knew the big secret of the Orange Seed were our immediate family and my BFF from grade school (I wanted to call her from the bathroom that morning, stick in hand, but hubs requested that we tell fam first...understandable!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On June 22 we had our first Dr.'s appointment. Hubs came with me as a good husband would. Little did we know that it was going to be one of "those" appointments. You know, the silver duck bill was out and ready and I assumed position feet up in the air and ready to be "explored". While I was used to this routine, poor hubs was NOT. I tried to keep the moment light but our doc didn't exactly catch our humor. For instance, as she proceeded to give me a breast exam, I looked over to hubs and told him that "this was the closest thing to girl-on-girl he was ever gonna get". She didn't seem to get it......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All went well and even though we did not have an ultra sound and hear a heartbeat yet, Doc felt that we were in good shape. That night we decided that the morning after the wedding we wanted to tell the rest of the fam since we would see many of them in person. And, at this point, my boobs had grown form an already impressive size to freaking floating devices that one would throw out to Godzilla! In addition to my clothes were starting to fit snug and if you had seen me you would have wondered if I was packing on a few!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So long story short, the day after the wedding we began to share the big news! All were excited and I could eat without feeling as though people were looking at me as if I should cut back, and start to leave my top button of my pants undone to make room for the inevitable sprouting of dear little Orange Seed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-4217257550168592919?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/4217257550168592919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/07/adventures-of-orange-seedpart-1-reveal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/4217257550168592919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/4217257550168592919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/07/adventures-of-orange-seedpart-1-reveal.html' title='The Adventures of Orange Seed...'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-6222295338448339134</id><published>2009-04-06T18:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T19:04:19.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mondays...</title><content type='html'>I have an uber case of the "Mondays"..if any of you have seen the movie "Office Space" then this reference will bring some chuckles, if not, then you can certainly appreciate the obvious meaning behind this statement...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "Mondays" for me actually start on Sunday evening. Every Sunday I whine about having to do the ironing and make the lunches for the following day. I even find myself having adult temper tantrums in protest to the inevitable week that is ahead. My husband just shakes his head and reminds me that I'm a "big girl now" and then has to tell me to go to bed because I will stay up late just to avoid waking up and having it be Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Monday gets here. I find myself doing a great deal of self motivational speaking in the 45 minute car ride to work. I try to make sure that my I Pod is well stocked with upbeat songs that will energize me for the day ahead of me. I walk into my work place and boom...there it is - Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I continue the self-motivation I begin to either become super productive at work OR I become Queen Procrastinator. Today I was a Queen! Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the day unfolds I get some things accomplished, listen (pr pretend to listen) to my co-workers stories about the weekend, and frequently day dream about anywhere else but work. It's like the weekend never happened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch is when true misery settles in. Like clock work, I get a headache EVERY Monday at work. No matter what preventative actions I take, such as eating frequently, keeping hydrated, or even proactive Tylenol, I still find myself suffering from the pain in the frontal lobe of my brain! Ugg!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But alas, I survived another Monday and I know that my Tuesday will be better. Wednesdays are usually decent and Thrusdays are typically a good day at work. On Fridays the "Queen" may make a reapperance but overall Fridays are my fav. Then there is a brief moment of bliss called "the weekend" and poof...we are back to the same old scenario Sunday evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if anyone has figured out a cure for the "Mondays" remidies are welcomed! Maybe Obama will fix this too after he pays off my mortgage and creates world peace. Oi vey!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-6222295338448339134?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/6222295338448339134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/04/mondays.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/6222295338448339134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/6222295338448339134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/04/mondays.html' title='Mondays...'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-7670283322771757244</id><published>2009-03-06T19:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T20:07:13.912-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bucket List</title><content type='html'>So with all this reminiscing about passed loved ones and memories, and the inevitably approaching big 3-0, I can't help but desire to live life to the fullest. So I recalled a great movie, "The Bucket List" and was inspired to write my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A "bucket list" is a list of things you want to do/accomplish before you die. It's a list of your wild and crazy ideas and dreams! It did not take me long to do mine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Go to Italy and trace my roots -as in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; going to the small villages that my family is from!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Visit Ireland-John should trace his roots too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Take an Alaskan Cruise -totally possible with my mother's employment at a cruise line!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Go on a Mission Trip-I have always wanted to travel to a 3rd world country and help the real poor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Scuba Dive - my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;aspirations&lt;/span&gt; of being a mermaid! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Celebrate New Years Eve in Manhattan - as in getting a hotel room with a balcony view of Times Square...I'm not about to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;corralled&lt;/span&gt; with thousands of crazy tourists on the streets of NYC!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Zip-line through a rain forest/tropical forest - my only concern with this one are bugs smacking my forehead on the way down!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Downhill ski- I know I know, I am an upstate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;NYer&lt;/span&gt; and I have never been...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lasik&lt;/span&gt; surgery!-I really want to wake up at 3am and see the clock! 30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;bday&lt;/span&gt; gift idea for anyone wondering...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Go to Vegas -hence my obsession with the TV show&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Go on a Safari - as a kid, I used to&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; be obsessed with this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Make wine at a vineyard - this one would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;also&lt;/span&gt; be great to accomplish in Italy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Get a six-pack!!! -I know I am already working on the six pack (no progress, I've been LAZY!! I'm now watching the beginning of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Las&lt;/span&gt; Vegas series! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;OOOOO&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;DVR&lt;/span&gt; you are evil!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So start dreaming people!  I challenge you to make a list yourself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-7670283322771757244?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/7670283322771757244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/03/bucket-list.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/7670283322771757244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/7670283322771757244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/03/bucket-list.html' title='Bucket List'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-5016034315630154772</id><published>2009-03-04T20:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T20:08:36.090-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A decade later...</title><content type='html'>At 8:20pm on March 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; 2000 my life changed dramatically. At the time I knew it was going to change, but I never knew that a decade later how that one night changed so much in my future...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the night that my father passed away. The setting: an hospice suite in a small hospital in southern Charlotte, NC. It was just me and my mom sitting on either side of my dad holding his hands. My brothers and sister were down earlier that week and had flown back to NY to wait for the inevitable news. I had never actually watched anyone die before this night and at being only 19 years old, it was the last thing I imagined doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But alas, the time came. My father had slipped into a deep sleep the night before and he woke briefly about an hour prior to his passing. It was an abrupt cough that jolted my father to an upright position. His eyes opened, he looked at me and my mom, squeezed our hands, said "I love you," and slipped back into his sleep to pass away just about an hour later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I find myself in a whole different life a decade later. So much has happened since that life changing night. Graduating college, moving out on my own, graduating with my masters, getting my first real job, getting married, and now living a life in a whole different state all grown up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With each milestone I find myself excited and proud of my accomplishments, yet a bittersweet moment as well. I am a woman of faith and fully believe that my father watches over me each day. But that still doesn't replace his physical presence, his big tight hugs where he calls me "petunia" as I'm held close to him. His scruffy kisses from his mustache that as a little girl I would cringe from, yet I would give anything to feel again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know how my father's passing would prepare me for so much ahead in life. After you loose someone close to you, it's indescribable how your priorities adjust to what really matters. It's amazing how the things that we worry about and stress out about don't seem to matter. It's uncanny how you can relate to others when they then go through the same experience...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I get ready for work each day, putting on my make up and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;straitening&lt;/span&gt; my hair, I see my father each day staring back at me in the mirror. You would think that out of his four children the two boys would inherit his looks. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nopers&lt;/span&gt;, my sister and I are undeniably his daughters: nose, curly hair, and calves. Yes I have my dad's calves, and ironically the same birthmark on my leg!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times where I still find my self bitter at the world for cheating me out of having an adult life with my dad. My kids will never have a grandfather to pass on the stories of how his family &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;immigrated&lt;/span&gt; here from Italy, my husband never had the chance to really get to know the man whom I held all other men up to, and my mom doesn't get the chance to grow old with her one true love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have so much to thank my father for, more than what  I could feel cheated out of. For one thing, I had 19 years of being raised by the most kind, patient, and loving man. I have memories that even the best novelist couldn't describe with the right words. I have a future of one day raising children of my own with the knowledge and values instilled in my that my father passed on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song that can best encompass the impact my father has had on me is Madonna's "I'll Remember". This was the song that I chose to dance with my family at my wedding in honor of the traditional father-daughter dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A decade later I find myself sitting here tonight reflecting on a great man. I've already called my mom, my brother Jason gave me a call and will go up to pray at my dad's grave later this evening. Through the years this anniversary has gotten easier. I  find my self reminiscing on his life opposed to his death. I celebrate by cooking his sauce and meatballs and hold them to the standard of his quality. I laugh at the memories of him cheering me up when I was sad or sick. I remember and live the lessons of life that he taught me each and every day. And I never, ever take the moments with those that I love for granted...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="white"&gt;&lt;pre class="borderblkbold"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll Remember"&lt;br /&gt;by Madonna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say good-bye to not knowing when&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;The truth in my whole life began&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Say good-bye to not knowing how to cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;You taught me that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;And I'll remember the love that you gave me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Now that I'm standing on my own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;I'll remember the way that you changed me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;I'll remember&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Inside I was a child&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;That could not mend a broken wing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Outside I looked for a way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;To teach my heart to sing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;I learned to let go of the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;illusion that we can possess&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;I learned to let go, I travel in stillness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;And I'll remember happiness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;I'll remember &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No I've never been afraid to cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now I finally have a reason why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll remember &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-5016034315630154772?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/5016034315630154772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/03/decade-later.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/5016034315630154772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/5016034315630154772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/03/decade-later.html' title='A decade later...'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-3988027777689413814</id><published>2009-02-07T22:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T22:38:42.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Viva Las Vegas!</title><content type='html'>OK so I am one of those people that can get sucked into a good book. No I mean really sucked into it, as in the characters become part of my everyday life and my emotions for the day can be dictated by what I have read prior (i.e. killing off Dumbledoor - not cool). Anywho, I am pathetically the same way when it comes to a good TV show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently have been ADDICTED to the show "Las Vegas". Now I am fully aware that this show is no longer running and only the reruns air&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, but my husband and sister-in-law got me hooked on it over Christmas and since then we have been DRVing two episodes a day and watching them when I get home from work (hence the fact that my jeans do not fit anymore because I plop my lazy but down watching reruns each night!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is like crack to me, seriously. I have not gotten enthralled in a show like this since the OC (as well as a brief obsession with JAG). And trust me, I broke up with that show once they killed off Marissa Cooper....i was grieving for days. I know, pathetic. Just wait, I get worse....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK back to LV...despite the ridiculously outlandish plots that occur in this casino (murders, felons, drugs, hmmm come to think it's kind of like a day at work!), I am sucked into the world of these main characters and the lives that they live while working at the Monticito Casino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's start with Ed Deline, one of the big wigs on the show...I immediately like him for the sole reason that he was the dad in ELf. No other reason, just that. Delinda, his daughter annoyed me until she was pregnant and I then began to find her hysterical as she would puke and burp frequently throughout the episodes! Mary Connolly had way too much collagen in her lips and I found it annoying so I did not mind when they booted her from the show. Mike and Danny were comical and I enjoyed the dynamics between them. I loved it when Tom Seleck came on as "Cooper" the new owner of the Monticito and his undertaker look (as in a funeral undertaker, not the wrestler).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there is Sam Marquez. I am obsessed with this character in every way (well wait, not in THAT way). I want her hair, clothes and snotty attitude! How liberating it would be to just live in a world where people embraced the sarcastic and blunt honesty that flows from this character! And let's also admire that her job is to make rich people loose money....seriously what the heck am I doing with my life when I secretly covet doing that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, the reason why I am rambling on about this show is because hubs and I just got done watching our two taped shows from Friday (wild Saturday night for us!), and the show ended with Delinda possibly loosing her baby (7 months along). Well of course since I can't wait until Monday night when I plop my butt down again on the couch and watch the next episode on my dvr, I made the hubs look it up online as to whether or not she lost the kid...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He discovered something that pissed me off even more than if she lost the kid....that was the LAST episode of the SERIES before it was cancelled. No resolution. No answers as to what happened, and now, no more reruns. It's like loosing Marissa Cooper all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the heck!? Even "Saved by the Bell" made a TV movie to FINALLY marry Zack and Kelly! Why not one last episode to wrap this one up! Why! WHY! Oooo the humanity...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I say adieu to the Las Vegas friends that have been consuming 2 hours a night for the past 6 weeks in my living room....my jeans will also thank you as I will hopefully get my butt in gear and work towards that stupid 6-pack (see prior blogs for explanations)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-3988027777689413814?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/3988027777689413814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/02/viva-las-vegas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/3988027777689413814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/3988027777689413814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/02/viva-las-vegas.html' title='Viva Las Vegas!'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-4336574084811830784</id><published>2009-02-01T20:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T20:39:04.118-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor...</title><content type='html'>So there is a reason why I haven't partied like I did in college! Last weekend we went out to a great Mexican restaurant with some friends called "Elsa's". This particular place has the most amazing margaritas named "Bad Juan". These suckers are potent. Seriously there is a 3 bad Juan limit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we started our evening out there and I indulged in two frozen raspberry Bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Juans&lt;/span&gt; (which I in another drunken stupor on a separate occasion renamed to "Juanita" - I'm a creative drunk!), then moved to the bar next door to listen to a band. At this point I am feeling pretty relaxed but quite in touch with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;reality&lt;/span&gt; still...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at this next bar they were having $2 margarita night! Well staying true to the theme of the night I ordered another. When I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; my drink I might as well have sucked on a lemon tree because this drink was mostly sour mix. When a friend of ours got there he asked why I wasn't drinking my margarita I told him my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;disappointing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dilemma&lt;/span&gt;. He then took my drink went to the bar and returned with another....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;muuuuuuuch&lt;/span&gt; better! (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt; he knows the owner) And this is where it all gets a little blurry...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt; and figuratively!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt; the drinks kept coming (even though I swear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;I only&lt;/span&gt; had 3 total that whole night I was later informed it was more like 5). I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;vaguely&lt;/span&gt; recall challenging my friend in a game of air hockey (which i was so at a disadvantage!) and was obviously beaten &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;miserably&lt;/span&gt; as I was seeing two pucks on the table!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my unfair defeat (he was sober) I  had an overwhelming &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;craving&lt;/span&gt; for french fries and ranch dressing. So when our waitress came by you would have thought she was a celebrity as I was so excited to see her and order my deep fried &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;carbs&lt;/span&gt;! As I can recall they were the best fries ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the night is still a little fuzzy...I guess I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;friend&lt;/span&gt; from home for over 30 minutes and I don't remember much of that! I was also cornered by a man whose family is from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Utica&lt;/span&gt;, NY (my hometown) and he went on and on about the food- a topic that I usually love to discuss however after two Bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Juans&lt;/span&gt; and 3 wanna-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;bes&lt;/span&gt; my ability to carry on a cohesive conversation &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; so great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all the night was fun and I was told that I had a great time! The next morning I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;popped&lt;/span&gt; out of bed by 8am and made toast and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;cheesy&lt;/span&gt; eggs and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;larrrrrge&lt;/span&gt; cup of coffee. After that I crashed on the couch most of the morning &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;vegetating&lt;/span&gt;. No hang over, just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;exhausted&lt;/span&gt;. Not bad for a gal who usually doesn't drink much at all when out on the town!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all I chalk that weekend up as a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;success&lt;/span&gt;! I plan on having more of these weekends as I am determined to live my last year in my 20's to the max so that I start off my 30's with a bang (and a six pack! still working on that one!)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-4336574084811830784?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/4336574084811830784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-tequila-two-tequila-three-tequila.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/4336574084811830784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/4336574084811830784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-tequila-two-tequila-three-tequila.html' title='One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor...'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-408443806637991765</id><published>2009-01-14T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T21:05:29.738-05:00</updated><title type='text'>best bed EVER!</title><content type='html'>Ok so my hubs knows me way to well...I love food. Wait, correct that, I am OBSESSED with it! Lol! More so with making it and then eating it and then thinking about what I made and ate, reading recipes and websites about food, then getting hungry from these sites and eating again...you get the pic, it's a revolving door!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, as we were sitting watching American Idol (which I am still laughing at the HYSTERICAL banana guy! If you did not see it I suggest YouTubing it!), John showed me this website with the most ingenious bed ever! Check it out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.geekologie.com/2009/01/mmmm_delicious_sleep_the_hambu.php"&gt;Hamburger Bed&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This  brings a whole new meaning to "sweet dreams"! I feel as though a burrito bed would be incredibly comfortable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok totally off topic but I just looked up at the TV (Still watching AI) and the TALLEST WOMAN EVER was on....I have a friend that would be insanely scared of her! :O)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-408443806637991765?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/408443806637991765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/01/best-bed-ever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/408443806637991765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/408443806637991765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/01/best-bed-ever.html' title='best bed EVER!'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-6460329861595373209</id><published>2009-01-11T19:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T20:02:50.454-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Pack...</title><content type='html'>I am on a mission. A mission in which many woman before me have conquered and many have failed. A mission in which I am feeding my obsession with the fact that this is my last year in my 20's and 30 is creeping up on me insanely fast...my mission is a six pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A six pack of what? Beer? No been there done that many times! I my friends am determined to have a rockin' beach body to ring in my 30's! Watch out America's Next Top Model I am on my way to a centerfold! lol! Ok maybe not but it sounds fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did they come up with the "six pack" reference anyways? I get the concept but a great set of abs look more like a wash board than a pack of soda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This obsession really started with the fun family game of "Biggest Loser Scanlan Family Edition" as my sister in law is getting married this June the group of us decided to lose the holiday budge together! Fun idea and my sister-in-law is super into it which drives my competitive spirit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have no doubt that the focus of many of these blogs will revolve around my mission. Tomorrow morning at 5am I plan on being up to work out and kick my butt into shape! What is my work out of choice you ask? Well nothing other than "Yoga Booty Ballet" of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup "Yoga Booty Ballet". Its pretty much a workout series that ties in yoga, ballet and aerobics. It focuses a lot on defining your booty (which if you know me i am in desperate need of defining one! I have what we call, Pancake Butt), and a great deal of emphasis on your abs! Hence the six pack goal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck! I have the bikini hanging in my bathroom as incentive. Lets see how long I last with this one! No, I can't think that way! THIS is IT! It's my last chance to rock out my 20's and welcome my 30's without looking like I am entering a new decade of age!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask for nothing but words of encouragement! And an occasional doughnut for support! :O)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-6460329861595373209?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/6460329861595373209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/01/six-pack.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/6460329861595373209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/6460329861595373209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/01/six-pack.html' title='Six Pack...'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-4920048505216427328</id><published>2009-01-11T16:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T16:50:35.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese food</title><content type='html'>So for about a month now I have been craving Chinese food! All I wanted was a kick-ass plate of Kung Pao Chicken...so last night hubs and I went on the hunt for some good 'ole chop-stickn' food! We first went to this place in the yuppie suburb that is only about 2 miles from us...we walked in looked at their menu, I gagged and walked out. Besides the fact that these entrees cost three times as much as mall Chinese the dishes they were serving were odd...jelly fish. Who in sane heck eats jelly fish? Just imagining the texture of what a jelly fish would taste like turns my stomach! I just imagine this gooey, spongy mess. How does one cook jelly fish? Poached? Broiled? Sauteed with hollindase? I was in no mood to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So into the car we hopped and turned on our GPS unit which conveniently finds restaurants. Typed in Chinese and picked one in the other near by yuppie suburb. Off we went. Once we got there we were immediately pleased with the picture menu posted outside the door. In all reality one really only needs a picture menu to order..I like to know what my food will look like! It doesn't surprise me that the other place had no pictures, really, who is gonna photograph a jelly fish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in we go. Once inside we were greeted by a friendly hostess and an overwhelming sent of spearmint. Yup, mint. Like the Trident Factory was located in the back or something. That strong. I nonchalantly looked around to try and determine where this sent was coming from...not from the two large yet kind of foggy fish tanks located in the middle of the place, not from the fully stocked bar (seriously a lot of liquor and happy hour prices..who knew that the local Chinese restaurant did a happy hour?). Once we were seated (btw there are only 2 other people eating in this place) we opened up our menu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignoring the mint sent that has taken over my olfactory glands, I begin to imagine what each dish would taste like (did not need to create a visual as this was a fully illustrated menu!). Hubs settled on the Orange Chicken and I went with my craving for Kung Pao Chicken. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we wait for our food I mentioned the mint sent to my hubs and he too could not determine the origin. Now I am hungry and oddly craving to brush my teeth...weird. Anywho, our food comes and both dishes look just like the pictures! Yay! And then  I took a bite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you see I am someone who enjoys eating out at places for dishes that I do not create at home. Indian food, Chinese, steakhouse food, and seafood are choices in which I indulge in others creating for me. However, this particular dinner could easily have been recreated at home. All I would need is some soy sauce and a sponge. Yup a sponge. That is the best way I can describe my Kung Pao chicken, spongy. No kung or pao to it what so ever...its like sponge bob was sauteed in soy sauce and finished off with a couple hot peppers. ugg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubs dish however was fantastic and thankfully huge. His chicken was fried so it had a great crispness to it. So we split his and I was at least full for the night and my craving was satiated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the moral of this story: don't judge a dish by its coordinating picture on the Chinese food menu. I might as well have tried the jelly fish....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-4920048505216427328?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/4920048505216427328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/01/chinese-food.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/4920048505216427328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/4920048505216427328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/01/chinese-food.html' title='Chinese food'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2833327219308581898.post-8857871993837602950</id><published>2009-01-10T22:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T22:48:37.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is beautiful!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"La vita e &lt;/span&gt;bella&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;" is Italian for "Life is beautiful." Why did I choose this as the title of my blog page? Well, because I have a beautiful life! (also, "a beautiful life" is tattooed on Lindsay &lt;/span&gt;Lohan's&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; hip so I chose to alter my phase!). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;, I do have a beautiful life! I have an amazing husband that lives each day to make my life special (sappy I know, I promise, I won't be a sappy blogger!). I have a great family full of siblings, &lt;/span&gt;inlaws&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; and my hero, &lt;/span&gt;Mamma&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Faz&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;! And as you will read in many of my hopefully entertaining entries, my dog &lt;/span&gt;Bazil&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; will be a frequent topic as she is my best little bud! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So thanks for &lt;/span&gt;beginning&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; this blogging journey with me! I hope you enjoy what I write and being part of my life! So welcome to my world! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrivederci!&lt;br /&gt;-jax&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;PS I am not known as being a stellar speller so excuse the mistypes every now and then! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;PSS If any of you reading this are scouts for sitcom show material, I requier payment for royalties! Trust me, you'll have plenty of episodes to creat from my life! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2833327219308581898-8857871993837602950?l=jmscanlan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/feeds/8857871993837602950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/01/life-is-beautiful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/8857871993837602950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2833327219308581898/posts/default/8857871993837602950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jmscanlan.blogspot.com/2009/01/life-is-beautiful.html' title='Life is beautiful!'/><author><name>Jax</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04196493071911165845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_da_diBxgVC4/SWloA3j2TpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rh5b1F7oa1U/S220/dcp_2119.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
