<?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-1415271690459858778</id><updated>2012-02-16T07:24:40.791-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Telford Family</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>147</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3312312001224210407</id><published>2011-04-06T13:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T14:02:15.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Please Stay Awhile</title><content type='html'>Spring and fall are by far my favorite seasons.  Not too harsh, just right.  This weekend I got my bike out and prepared it for a ride.  Today I will go on my first bike ride of the season.  I'm so excited.  I was just getting into biking when I got pregnant with Zoe.  Then it got so hot that I couldn't stand the heat.  I've been waiting to bike for months!  Mary, my riding partner, can't ride with me today but I'm looking forward to a day soon when we can ride together.  Today though, it's just me--and lots of fresh air.  Today is the first day that I will leave Zoe at daycare all day.  She has done great with the transition.  That's all for today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3312312001224210407?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3312312001224210407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3312312001224210407' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3312312001224210407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3312312001224210407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2011/04/spring-please-stay-awhile.html' title='Spring Please Stay Awhile'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-858619323303006531</id><published>2011-03-31T09:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T09:49:04.445-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, Today is the Day</title><content type='html'>My little baby boy is all of a sudden big now.  I think that it happened when Zoe was born.  When I came home from the hospital and was giving Q a bath, I noticed how big his body had gotten.  His legs were long and he felt much heavier.  I'd never been away from him for that long.  I mean, I saw him everyday while Z and I were in the hospital, sometimes he even came to visit twice daily...but he was just bigger.  Maybe in comparison to tiny Zoe?  I don't know.  He was just big.  He was suddenly a boy and not a toddler and it happened way before I was ready.  And today, another milestone...underwear!  I couldn't even get a picture because he was so excited, running around everywhere!  I sent several changes of clothes to daycare today, pretty sure that he will need them.  Makes me sad that he is big now.  His newest thing is telling our dogs, Jack and Bella, to go to time out.  "Time out Jack, Time out Bella, GO" he yells!  Makes me laugh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt;.  He calls John by his name sometimes rather than daddy.  That really makes me laugh.  In other milestone related news, tomorrow is my last day on maternity leave.  Yet another milestone.  STOP with the milestones.  I want time to stop, it just goes too fast.  Except when I'm running.  I've joined a running clinic.  Time goes real slow when I'm running!  My goal is a 5K in May.  I'll let you know how the training goes!  Happy day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-858619323303006531?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/858619323303006531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=858619323303006531' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/858619323303006531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/858619323303006531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2011/03/well-today-is-day.html' title='Well, Today is the Day'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-6131689488013266662</id><published>2011-03-29T11:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T11:50:40.914-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Geez, I really really promise!</title><content type='html'>I've been so bad about updating this blog.  Poor Zoe won't have much to document her time in the womb or first few months.  But, really, I want to do better.  Being on maternity leave and having no one to talk to except a baby that can't talk back has me left with lots to say!  Life is very busy around here.  First, no one told me that double the kids does NOT equal double the work.  I'm not too good at math, but I do know that the rules of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mathematics&lt;/span&gt; do not apply to kiddos.  So, since no one warned me I want to warn others--double the kiddos has at least TRIPLED the work!  Don't get me wrong...there is nothing I'd rather work harder at than raising my kids, it's just that I was a bit surprised at the workload.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zoe is the sweetest baby girl.  I mean, how can a baby girl not be sweet?  She has the biggest smile and loves to cuddle.  And then with all the frilly dresses, giant bows, colorful pinks and lilacs in her clothes...a recipe for cuteness.  She is so tiny.  Just now weighing in at 9lbs 6oz. she is still wearing some newborn clothes.  Her favorite thing is to be swaddled very tightly by the master (her daddy) and put in her swing.  She sleeps there.  Sleep--we are still working on that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I forgot how hard the lack of sleep was.  In fact, I forgot almost everything from that time with Q because I was so sleep deprived!  We are improving but that is difficult.  The "sleep when she sleeps" is just not possible.  I mean, I have a family to feed, clothe...when would I do the laundry or make dinner if I slept when she slept?  It sounds like a good piece of advice, but I've not really found it to be all that practical.  In fact, all that is practical has really gone out the window at this point.  We are in survival mode.  And, it is working so far.  We'll stick to what works for now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Promise promise promise myself that I will do better on this post.  I've got lots to say:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-6131689488013266662?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/6131689488013266662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=6131689488013266662' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6131689488013266662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6131689488013266662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2011/03/geez-i-really-really-promise.html' title='Geez, I really really promise!'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8475057119562520342</id><published>2010-11-26T09:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T22:31:23.729-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Itty Bitty Pesky Gallbladder</title><content type='html'>So the troubles with my gallbladder began in February.  I didn't know what it was in February, why I was having intense pain and vomiting episodes, but it hurt so badly.  An intense kind of pain that I'd never experienced before.  Months later we found out it was my gallbladder, in fact, 2 days after learning I was pregnant.  The GI doctor said that since I was pregnant, there was nothing that we could do until after the pregnancy.  And since medications were controlling the pain and the attacks I was agreeable to this plan.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had trouble on and off during first and second trimesters, but mostly when I would forget to take my medicines.  Ouch.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I would swear to myself that I was never going to forget taking that medicine again, but I forgot again many times.  My OB doctor said that there are a few surgeons that would remove gallbladders when pregnant and she would refer me to one, if that was what I wanted.  She said the best window for removal while pregnant would be the second trimester.  I decided that since everything was pretty much under control to just wait it out.  That was until I hit the first day of the third trimester, which was last week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've had attacks daily, if not multiple times a day now.  I called and got the referral to the surgeon and will see him on Monday.  I spoke with his nurse on the phone on Wednesday and she was able to look at my gallbladder ultrasound that I'd done several months ago on the computer system at the hospital.  She said the report then showed "numerous" stones and that waiting any longer could actually be more of a risk than removal while pregnant.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She was great at explaining everything to me.  She said that the first trimester the anesthesia is too much for the developing baby.  The third trimester poses a risk for preterm labor.  The anesthesia is fine for the baby at this point but in order to reach the gallbladder they have to fill the abdomen full with air and because of the growing uterus, there is just not much room for anything else.  This pressure from the air can squeeze the uterus and cause contractions.  So I would have to be admitted to the hospital for a few days in order to be on a fetal monitor and watch the baby.  And, the second trimester is just perfect time for gallbladder harvesting apparently (the perfect timing during pregnancy that is).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The risk of waiting is that one of those gallstones could get loose and cause ALL kinds of other serious complications, one being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pancreatitis&lt;/span&gt;, which can be fatal.  So, I feel stuck.  I don't want to risk &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-term labor, or more complications for myself.  I would not forgive myself if the baby was born and there were problems.  However, I can't endure the pain anymore.  So, if you think of me, please say a prayer that the surgeon is wise and cautious and everything (whatever decision we make, operate or not) goes well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and just for the records:  gallbladder pain is THE worse pain I've ever experienced in my entire life!  EVER, over anything...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8475057119562520342?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8475057119562520342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8475057119562520342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8475057119562520342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8475057119562520342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/11/itty-bitty-pesky-gallbladder.html' title='Itty Bitty Pesky Gallbladder'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4759400887022760976</id><published>2010-11-26T08:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T09:19:22.364-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Girl</title><content type='html'>Life is so full and so busy!  I wish that I'd documented more along the way with this baby, like I did with Quincy.  This pregnancy has been different than the first.  They say that every pregnancy is different and I agree.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gone is the nausea from the hormones, but ever present is the nausea from the gallbladder.  With Quincy, I was sick for the first 13 weeks, ALL 13 of them!  The second trimester was easier but I didn't have the "best I've ever felt" feelings that some describe.  Towards the end of the second trimester I remember getting this horrible pain in my hips that made it painful to walk.  Sleeping became a chore.  Back pain was not as bad as I had anticipated, but bad nonetheless.  And the waiting had me a nervous wreck.  Is that a contraction?  What was that weird pain?  Should I go to the hospital?  More of the same in the third trimester.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This pregnancy I've been tired.  May have something to do with chasing around a toddler, I don't know?  Very few episodes of morning sickness/nausea in the first trimester.  But the second trimester has brought all the physical pains back, plus a few.  The hips hurt, the back hurts, the abdomen is all squished, the ankles are swelling, and lightheaded.  Also, my hip joints/upper leg (whatever that is called, where they all attach) is about to kill me.  It hurts to move any part of my lower body at any time.  Feels like my legs are attached to my body by a small string and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I move them, that string might break.  Putting on pants, moving from seated to standing position or vice-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;versa&lt;/span&gt;, rolling over in bed...all of this is absolutely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;excruciating&lt;/span&gt;!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And add to that, gallbladder pain.  That will be another post.  Now that I've complained about the difficulties of pregnancy, I'd like to say, there is nothing in the world like it.  To feel a life, a small bundle of "person" growing inside of your womb, the gentle nudges and kicks, it is amazing.  And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;miraculous&lt;/span&gt;.  And such a blessing.  And the aches and pains will all be a distant memory when she arrives.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait to meet her.  She is already so much more active in the womb than Q, I think that she will be a force to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;reckoned&lt;/span&gt; with.  I wonder what her little personality will turn into?  Will she be laid back, easy-going, compliant?  Or free-spirited, energetic, and march to the beat of her own drum?  Everyone is curious about her hair/eye color.  Needless to say little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt; haired blue eyed little boy was surprising.  Will she be the same?  Or will she have dark eyes/hair like her mom and dad?  Will she be born early?  Five pounds or nine pounds?  Oh I can't wait!  I love her so much already.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4759400887022760976?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4759400887022760976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4759400887022760976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4759400887022760976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4759400887022760976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/11/baby-girl.html' title='Baby Girl'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4368625612813486547</id><published>2010-09-13T14:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T14:58:41.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's A</title><content type='html'>girl or boy?  You tell me.  Tomorrow I have my big gender ultrasound.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4368625612813486547?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4368625612813486547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4368625612813486547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4368625612813486547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4368625612813486547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/09/its.html' title='It&apos;s A'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4719897644958192668</id><published>2010-09-13T13:54:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T14:53:56.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Some images from our Labor Free Day! Once Quincy picked this "apple" we could not get him to put it down!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A5p0xtDI/AAAAAAAAAyo/7n72EBGVoO4/s1600/IMG_0137.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A5p0xtDI/AAAAAAAAAyo/7n72EBGVoO4/s320/IMG_0137.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516488321543550002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A5TLFhHI/AAAAAAAAAyg/W1-0AttTiBQ/s1600/DSC00370.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A5TLFhHI/AAAAAAAAAyg/W1-0AttTiBQ/s320/DSC00370.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516488315463107698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A4jNwQSI/AAAAAAAAAyY/zL3NXrp2-04/s1600/DSC00319.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A4jNwQSI/AAAAAAAAAyY/zL3NXrp2-04/s320/DSC00319.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516488302589395234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A4H6JAWI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/TbWYnrOzIbU/s1600/DSC00299.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A4H6JAWI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/TbWYnrOzIbU/s320/DSC00299.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516488295259373922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A3neyLlI/AAAAAAAAAyI/1Hv4GsDAzqM/s1600/DSC00298.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A3neyLlI/AAAAAAAAAyI/1Hv4GsDAzqM/s320/DSC00298.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516488286554697298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI564m2kYbI/AAAAAAAAAyA/e4GaGMM2IhQ/s1600/DSC00286.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI564m2kYbI/AAAAAAAAAyA/e4GaGMM2IhQ/s320/DSC00286.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516481706496123314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI564Kd_rGI/AAAAAAAAAx4/Br0fSPy-JBU/s1600/DSC00279.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI564Kd_rGI/AAAAAAAAAx4/Br0fSPy-JBU/s320/DSC00279.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516481698876861538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI563H6ubEI/AAAAAAAAAxw/AblHhZWZuHM/s1600/DSC00278.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI563H6ubEI/AAAAAAAAAxw/AblHhZWZuHM/s320/DSC00278.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516481681012190274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI562VUDdpI/AAAAAAAAAxo/CVoZpBR36jI/s1600/DSC00248.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI562VUDdpI/AAAAAAAAAxo/CVoZpBR36jI/s320/DSC00248.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516481667428218514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI562G8LZFI/AAAAAAAAAxg/4Duy0zzAKqk/s1600/DSC00246.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI562G8LZFI/AAAAAAAAAxg/4Duy0zzAKqk/s320/DSC00246.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516481663569978450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4719897644958192668?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4719897644958192668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4719897644958192668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4719897644958192668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4719897644958192668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/09/labor-day.html' title='Labor Day'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TI6A5p0xtDI/AAAAAAAAAyo/7n72EBGVoO4/s72-c/IMG_0137.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-5550111563980115954</id><published>2010-09-06T11:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T11:33:13.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Telford #2</title><content type='html'>The news has long been out, but I've neglected the blog.  In February, there will be another baby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Telford&lt;/span&gt;!  I was a little worried after having an ovary and cyst removed in January that getting pregnant might be difficult.  With only one ovary, I thought my chances would be cut in half.  My doctor said that they wouldn't, but I have to admit I was still skeptical.  A few months after the surgery we started to try and get pregnant...and a few months later we were pregnant! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though I'd been through pregnancy before, I still worried (and still do) endlessly.  Every pain or ache makes me question "is everything &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;"?  So far everything has worked out just fine and I'm about 17-18 weeks along.  My next appointment will tell us if we are having a girl or a boy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This pregnancy has proved the "every pregnancy is different" statement.  I wasn't nauseated and puking for the first 13 weeks.  I had "moments", but they were just moments thank goodness!  Physically it has been more difficult on my body.  I ache and am very sore.  Getting comfortable is already difficult.  No heartburn though (yet)!  I've been extremely tired, but this could also be contributed to chasing a very active toddler.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the most difficult complications that I've had has been my gallbladder.  If you've never had gallbladder issues, count yourself lucky!  That little bitty thing can be extremely painful.  I think I'd rather give birth any day over having a gallbladder attack.  OUCH!  I found out 2 days after a positive pregnancy test that I had gallstones.  Thankfully I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; that pretty much control the attacks.  If it gets worse my OB says we can remove it during the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; trimester without much risk.  I didn't know it was common for subsequent pregnancies for gallbladder issues to form.  Wow.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks everyone for your support and encouragement thus far during the pregnancy!  Love to all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-5550111563980115954?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/5550111563980115954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=5550111563980115954' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5550111563980115954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5550111563980115954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/09/baby-telford-2.html' title='Baby Telford #2'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2423438741736071881</id><published>2010-08-30T22:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T11:15:04.244-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want to Remember</title><content type='html'>That you love "melmo" (Elmo) right now. &lt;div&gt;You called a green pea a ball.&lt;br /&gt;Mummies (gummies) can just about bribe you to do anything!&lt;br /&gt;You love to say "llella" but refuse to say Jack.&lt;br /&gt;Strawberries are your favorite fruit.&lt;br /&gt;You only like Mac-n-cheese freshly cooked, no leftovers!&lt;br /&gt;You are a huge helper around the house and will put things in their place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can be a bit of a perfectionist.&lt;br /&gt;In your bed you look like such a big boy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are so happy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love that you have a gentle spirit and easy-going attitude.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so happy to watch you grow but sad to see my little boy grow up!  In one week you will be 2 years old!  Our lives have been blessed beyond measure and you are a huge part of that!  We love you so much Quincy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/1415271690459858778-2423438741736071881?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2423438741736071881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2423438741736071881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2423438741736071881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2423438741736071881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/08/want-to-remember.html' title='I Want to Remember'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3122222449697554028</id><published>2010-06-08T17:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T14:51:58.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart Attack</title><content type='html'>No one had a heart attack. But, I almost did.  Yesterday.  But everyone is okay and I didn't have "tha big one".  I picked up Q yesterday at daycare and began loading him up in the car.  He loves to play with my keys and I wait until the absolute last second to take them from him.  Know where this is going?  So, I got him all buckled in, got the keys, and tossed them in the drivers seat.  I shut the door and started around the car.  That's when I heard it.  beep beep.  The sound of my car doors locking...and by themselves!!!  I thought, "maybe it was another car" but when I checked, nope, it was mine.  Panic.  What do I do?  I could bust the window in...um, don't really have the funds to replace the window.  Who cares?  MY BABY IS IN THERE!  I could call the police and they could bust in the window.  I realized quickly that my phone was in the car as well.  I borrowed another parents phone, called John, said, "it's an emergency, I locked Q in the car, it's hot, come NOW".  I kept saying that I'd locked him in.  Although I didn't, I felt like I had.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have an older car.  No On Star.  An actual safety feature of the car is that if you walk away without locking it, it will lock itself.  Not really something that I consider a safety feature.  A safety feature is that the car won't allow itself to lock.  Who cares about a purse?  I had a baby in the car.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So John was on his way, flashers on and all.  But, it was 5 o'clock.  Traffic.  Even had he gotten there in 30 seconds, it would have been WAY TOO LONG!  I had so many plans in my head.  The minute he started crying, window was coming out,  and with my bare hands.  If he even looked too hot, again, window out with my bare hands.  I stood outside the car and played peek-a-boo, sang songs, did the disappearing stair step...you name it, I did it to keep my baby smiling.  And that he did, smile, the entire time until John arrived.  I don't know how long it was...time was stopped in my mind anyway.  The only two things that kept me sane were the fact that Q was enjoying the entertainment (he was smiling) and the thought that I could break out the window at any moment if I needed to.  I knew that he was okay, hot maybe, but okay and that if that changed at any second then I could get to him within a few seconds.  Don't doubt my strength.  I could have lifted the car with one hand yesterday, alone.  And held it there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that I will have many more mintues like this as a mom:  helpless.  It was awful.  All is well now:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3122222449697554028?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3122222449697554028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3122222449697554028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3122222449697554028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3122222449697554028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/06/heart-attack.html' title='Heart Attack'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-5799266481140868673</id><published>2010-05-04T14:08:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T14:49:22.128-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The River</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IJv5ugqI/AAAAAAAAAvc/VFk6JqXTy_k/s1600/DSC09669.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IJv5ugqI/AAAAAAAAAvc/VFk6JqXTy_k/s320/DSC09669.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480537866359440034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IJHgkp4I/AAAAAAAAAvU/UpyISqVMBLA/s1600/DSC09653.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IJHgkp4I/AAAAAAAAAvU/UpyISqVMBLA/s320/DSC09653.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480537855516518274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IIwnYe1I/AAAAAAAAAvM/6b3wTqMAVMQ/s1600/DSC09645.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IIwnYe1I/AAAAAAAAAvM/6b3wTqMAVMQ/s320/DSC09645.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480537849371065170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IIaU1mDI/AAAAAAAAAvE/G2opuGEh-aM/s1600/DSC09608.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IIaU1mDI/AAAAAAAAAvE/G2opuGEh-aM/s320/DSC09608.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480537843387701298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IH6GhO0I/AAAAAAAAAu8/Mrioiqxt50Y/s1600/DSC09596.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IH6GhO0I/AAAAAAAAAu8/Mrioiqxt50Y/s320/DSC09596.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480537834737711938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me just make a disclaimer before writing this post:  you may be offended.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last weekend we went to the river.  Not the lake, but the Ouachita River.  Except for the life-sized mosquitos and the horseflies that had needles for stingers, we had a great time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was so much for Q to get into that we all stayed very busy.  Mike actually lives on a riverboat.  He made it.  It is very very cool.  Once you are inside, you have no idea that you are on a boat until &lt;em&gt;another&lt;/em&gt; boat goes by and you realize that you are rocking back and forth.  Or when you look out of the window to a most beautiful view.  Other than that, oh, I forgot to mention the skinky sulfer smelling well water, you really don't know you are on a boat.  There is a flat screen tv, cable, several bedrooms, bath, kitchen complete with oven and full size refrigerator.  We mostly stayed outside where Q like to walk up and down the ramp to the boat.  Someone was always holding onto him AND had had a lifejacket on any time we were outside.  Also outside my mom had bought him a swimming pool (which also doubled as a bathtub).  And she got him his first ever fishing pole.  I think that she hoped to help him use it, but he had a different thing in mind.  He just went around swinging it back and forth.  I was hoping to not be around when Q came by.  The pole HURT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope you enjoy the pictures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-5799266481140868673?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/5799266481140868673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=5799266481140868673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5799266481140868673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5799266481140868673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/05/river.html' title='The River'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/TA7IJv5ugqI/AAAAAAAAAvc/VFk6JqXTy_k/s72-c/DSC09669.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-1147149729515529639</id><published>2010-05-04T13:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T14:08:30.608-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's That???</title><content type='html'>Well, if you are wondering what we've been up to, see the title of the post!  Q has mastered the words, "what's that?"!  And he says them over and over and over again!!!  Even after we tell him what that is, he will ask again.  We are having so much fun watching him discover and learn new things.  Here are a few new tasks he enjoys doing:  putting ANYTHING in the trashcan, putting ANYTHING in the laundry basket (and then taking it out so he can put it in again), pushing his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dumptruck&lt;/span&gt; around, helping with chores (loading the dishwasher or dryer, mopping or sweeping), gently petting Jack and Bella, tearing up paper (we gladly let him tear up bills), dancing his heart out, trying to run and jump, eating almost anything, going outside to water the flowers, playing in the water.  Okay, I won't go on and on...basically Q enjoys life, and I'm learning from him to stop, smell the roses (literally he does this, not sure who taught him), and live in the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all busy, with work mainly.  I think that a full moon has been out for about 2 months now.  At least it feels that way.  I've been in the ER doing psych screens like crazy, no pun intended!  Work doesn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ususally&lt;/span&gt; feel like work, which is great.  My body feels it though.  The more I work, the more I hurt.  I'm thinking of making an appointment with a pain management doctor this week.  I've contemplated this many times but always hesitate because I feel like this is my last line of treatment, and if this doesn't work, then what?  That really scares me.  But the past few weeks have been really hard on my back and I've decided to go ahead and bite the bullet.  I feel like I've tried everything and had no relief, so hopefully this will work.  We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we are not working, or answering the question, "what's that", we are exercising.  John is still running, but not as much.  I've taken up bike riding.  I got a new bike that helps me to sit up straight and doesn't put any strain on my back.  I really like it.  More than the bike, I enjoy the scenery that it helps me to see!  I love Arkansas.  It is absolutely beautiful!  My friend Mary let me borrow her bike trailer to put Q in.  That was an experience.  Glad we borrowed before we bought.  First, that thing is heavy, I'm guessing 25lbs.  And Q is heavy, another 25-30lbs.  So pulling 60 lbs of dead weight is killer.  So killer that the scenery is no longer beautiful!  I think if Q was smaller, it would be great fun.  But for now, he wants to ride his own bike, not be trailed behind one.  Thank you though Mary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our computer has died, so I can't upload pictures unless I go to John's office.  I will try and do that for the next post.  Sorry for not updating as much, life is so busy, but so good~!  Love to all, Molly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-1147149729515529639?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/1147149729515529639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=1147149729515529639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1147149729515529639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1147149729515529639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/05/whats-that.html' title='What&apos;s That???'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-709801252500311175</id><published>2010-04-14T17:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T18:04:26.001-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up!</title><content type='html'>I've fallen off the blogging bandwagon, that is.  I can't get up because we no longer have a computer at home.  Our laptop died.  But, Quincy has been doing the most precious things lately, and I wanted to write about them before I forget!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Talking up a storm but not very many interpretable words!  And when he gets going, he will raise his voice just because he can.  His favorite words are "uh oh" anytime anything happens that he doesn't think should happen.  This includes dropping things on the floor, and me pulling out in front of someone, getting honked at, I hear a little voice in the backseat, "uh oh".  "MO!"  That is no and mine, combined.  Genius.  Because usually when he is telling someone NO, it is because, that is mine!  "Lordy, Lordy, Lordy".  Seriously.  Do not know where he got this one from.  But not complaining because he is no longer saying "shit".  Don't know where he got that one from either!  "Bawwwl".  Interpretation:  ball in a very southern drawl.  Yellow.  Blue.  Can say both of these colors clear as a bell.  "Doowg"  and "ruff".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He loves to give hugs (if he can slow down long enough) and now is giving kisses on the mouth.  So sweet.  He will grab your head and pull it towards his and give you a big, wet, slobbery kiss on the lips.  He does not like to have his diaper changed on his changing table anymore.  He is much more agreeable if I change his diaper on the floor.  Still loves bath time and eating.  Favorite food, hands down, is gummy bears.  He has no fear when it comes to slides.  We go to a different playground just about every week and he like to climb and slide.  Over and over and over again.  He enjoys watching Disney's "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse", Special Agent Oso, Madasgar Penguins, Handy Manny...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is also really starting to show that he is a boy.  He loves to ram his cars into things and make noises to go along with that.  He likes to yell.  Hates getting his faced wiped off, especially his nose.  Lately he has been walking around with his hands in his pockets and that cracks me up.  He loves to dance.  ANY music will get him moving to the beat.  And, sweetest thing, he holds our hands when we pray at dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quincy is the best thing about my life.  The biggest blessing.  Everyday he makes me laugh and stop to enjoy the moment, cherish life, and be ever thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-709801252500311175?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/709801252500311175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=709801252500311175' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/709801252500311175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/709801252500311175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/04/ive-fallen-and-i-cant-get-up.html' title='I&apos;ve Fallen and I Can&apos;t Get Up!'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8967431582659776664</id><published>2010-03-10T14:48:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T15:06:20.251-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not My Kid</title><content type='html'>Last night John and I went to "Parenting Bootcamp" at our church.  We signed up for it quite awhile ago but we reconfirmed that we needed to be there two times yesterday.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First, I pick Q up from daycare.  The daycare worker states that Q has been really aggressive for about one week.  He is hitting, kicking, biting!  She said that she has never seen this kind of behavior from him and was concerned.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.  I was shocked!  It was mostly over toys.  Someone had the toy that he wanted, and bam, he did something about it.  We have seen NOTHING like this at home, however, John and I don't typically play with toys.  We've seen minimal hitting.  So, all the way home I was in disbelief.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second, snack time for Q proved to be a tantrum.  Like a terrible two tantrum.  Major folks.  We are talking had we let him cry it out, could have lasted til he lost his voice.  Lucky for him, we had to leave for church.  But he did cry a good 20 minutes or so.  He was strapped into his booster seat, but was flinging his body everywhere.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did someone switch out our kid?  Help.  Suggestions welcome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8967431582659776664?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8967431582659776664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8967431582659776664' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8967431582659776664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8967431582659776664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/03/not-my-kid.html' title='Not My Kid'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-15737511881755740</id><published>2010-02-05T22:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T22:43:10.898-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm A Fan!</title><content type='html'>I am an aspiring photographer...until I see a real professionals work and I sort of remember that I'm a social worker, not a photographer.  One of my favorites, though we've never met or had our pics taken, is Danielle Davis.  I have many friends that have priceless pictures, paintings done by her.  Check her out.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; "&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://danielledavisart.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), &amp;quot;806514a1130d0e5b2334734cebefdfca&amp;quot;, event)" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(59, 89, 152); text-decoration: none; "&gt;http://danielledavisart.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://danielledavisart.com/blog/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), &amp;quot;806514a1130d0e5b2334734cebefdfca&amp;quot;, event)" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(59, 89, 152); text-decoration: none; "&gt;http://danielledavisart.com/blog/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-15737511881755740?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/15737511881755740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=15737511881755740' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/15737511881755740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/15737511881755740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-fan.html' title='I&apos;m A Fan!'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3203695233411193329</id><published>2009-12-29T20:07:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T20:46:37.022-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pneumonia Here, Pneumonia There, Pneumonia Everywhere</title><content type='html'>I'm thinking that Quincy might want to skip the holiday season all together next year.  He got a concussion over Thanksgiving and pneumonia over Christmas.  I'm actually thinking that I may want to skip the holidays next year, Q probably, not so much!  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The week before Christmas the daycare called on Tuesday and said that Q had a fever.  I picked him up and called my boss.  He has to be fever free for 24 hours before returning to daycare.  So I stayed home with him on Wednesday.  We went to the doctor just to make sure that it wasn't serious (last year he had RSV).  The doc (not our regular doc) sent us home, Q was fine.  No ear infections, clear lungs, no fever, you get the picture.  So, he was fever free for 24 hours.  Back to daycare he went on Thursday.  Daycare called again.  Q had a fever of 102, didn't eat lunch, and was not playing with the other kids.  This time when I get him I can really tell that he does not feel well.  He is burning up.  It was too late in the day for us to be seen by the doctor and I made an appointment for the next day, Friday.  John woke me up about 5:30am saying that Q now had a fever of 104.  Panic mode.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tylenol, tepid bath.  Repeat.  Fever went down to about 102.  We went in to the doc about 10am.  We didn't leave until 1:00pm.  The doctor heard a crackle in his lungs.  She ordered blood work and chest x-rays, RSV and flu tests.  He has pneumonia.  His white blood cell count is 28,000.  Normal is 4,000-11,000.  Infections are considered serious at 20,000 and severe at 24,000.  I called John and asked him to come to meet us.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the meantime they checked his oxygen saturation level.  I think that most people are at 100%.  I'm pretty sure in the 80's is something to worry about.  The first reading came up 83%.  I panicked again.  Turns out, the machine malfunctioned.  His level was 97%.  He got a HUGE shot of antibiotics, an inhaler, and a Saturday morning clinic appointment.  John's parents were already scheduled to come in that day and spend the weekend to celebrate Christmas with us.  We were so glad they did.  It really helped to have two rational brains to help us make decisions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were told that if his fever spiked again or breathing became fast or labored to go directly to the ER, otherwise come back to the clinic at 8am.  When we got home, Q let me put him on the couch and he watched a video.  John's parents arrived about 3:00pm.  When they came in, Q woke up and from then until about 10:30pm I just wasn't sure that everything was going to turn out okay.  His fever was 103 and he was incredibly lethargic.  He had a zombie look, glazed eyes.  He had to be held, at all times, by someone.  So during this time it was great that we had two extra sets of hands for holding and ears for listening and hearts to help us bear the burden.  The night wore on and on.  His breathing would speed up then slow down, over and over again.  Do we go to the ER  or wait?  What to do?  All evening long we thoughts rushed through our heads.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About 10pm we decided to go to bed.  We have never let Q sleep in the bed with us, but thought that we needed to be close to listen to his breathing.  So, we got in the bed, Q in the middle, and he sat up, facing us, and gave us the "Q smile" that melts hearts.  It was like a break in the storm, kind of reassurance that he was going to be okay.  We all slept hard that night.  Early the next morning John &amp;amp; I take Q back to the clinic.  X-rays revealed that his pneumonia was worse.  We got another huge shot of antibiotics and told to go to the ER if anything worsened.  I was thinking, "uh, didn't you just say that his lungs look worse?"  I guess it just sort of has to run its course?  I dunno.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It took about one month before Q returned to his normal eating habits, sleeping habits, and all-around pretty happy personality.  It really scared us.  I cannot imagine what it is like to have a really sick child, a child that might not get well.  Thankful for the blessing of a mostly healthy child!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3203695233411193329?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3203695233411193329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3203695233411193329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3203695233411193329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3203695233411193329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/12/pneumonia-here-pneumonia-there.html' title='Pneumonia Here, Pneumonia There, Pneumonia Everywhere'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2127150860420854326</id><published>2009-12-05T21:35:00.011-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T22:06:42.516-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving Holiday and Happenings</title><content type='html'>I was especially excited for Thanksgiving this year.  John's family had rented a cabin in Broken Bow, OK.  There were actually three cabins nested together and his aunts rented the others.  So almost ALL of John's family stayed the entire holiday in cabins just a few feet from each other.  I am sick that I didn't get a picture of the outside of the cabins.  I really didn't get any good ones of the inside.  Here are a few that show the inside of ours.  And when I say cabin, don't think rustic!  These had hot tubs on the porch, king sized beds with super fluffy down comforters, televisions...my idea of good "camping"!  They were absolutely beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SxspsYUYgvI/AAAAAAAAAsM/WIxS5twU2gM/s1600-h/DSC05142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SxspsYUYgvI/AAAAAAAAAsM/WIxS5twU2gM/s320/DSC05142.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411965219634709234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SxspsH7i0QI/AAAAAAAAAsE/9zmR8t_5vVI/s1600-h/DSC05140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SxspsH7i0QI/AAAAAAAAAsE/9zmR8t_5vVI/s320/DSC05140.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411965215235559682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived Wednesday night and had a spread at Aunt Gay's cabin, and let the stomach stretching begin!  There were about 20 people already there, it was hoppin!  We were exhausted and Quincy was overwhelmed by the people and the volume!  We didn't stay too long and decided that we would catch up with everyone the next day at Thanksgiving Lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning proved to be one of the hardest of my life thus far.  After staying up late and getting up early (my life since Q) I was ready for a nap before the day really got started.  At noon everyone was to meet at a restaurant in Broken Bow for lunch.  Quincy was being given plenty of attention by the family so I went to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later I heard Q cry.  I figured he had fallen, as he often does.  I heard a hurt cry but it stopped soon.  A few minutes later I heard him cry again.  And again.  I went to see what was going on and Q was resting on John's shoulder.  Apparently Q was in his booster seat at the table and pushed with his feet off of the table and tipped his chair back onto the floor.  His head hit the back of the chair that his booster was strapped to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't smile at me and looked zoned out.  It was close to his nap time and John decided to lay him down.  Seconds later John emerges from our room with Q and lots of vomit on the both of them.  At that point it was like a big red light went off with everyone.  After this point everything moved very quickly.  Jason called out the phone number to the local hospital as I dialed to ask them what to do.  They of course said to bring him in.  He then started to projectile vomit.  Now was there not only a red light but a very loud buzzer that heightened the awareness with all of us that something was very wrong.  Within seconds John had put Q in the car seat, I jumped into the back with him and John instructed Jason to come with us to the hospital since he was the one with directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that we were driving very fast.  When I caught my breath I asked how far it was to the hospital.  Someone said about twenty minutes.  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Twenty minutes???&lt;/span&gt;  A few minutes later I heard twenty-eight miles to Idabel.  That was where the hospital was.  Quincy looked like he was getting sleepy.  I talked and sang to him.  His eyes continued to grow heavy and I took him out of his car seat to try and keep him awake.  It worked for only a few minutes.  Before he closed his eyes I kept looking at his pupils which looked to be equal, round, reactive to light.  That was really all that I knew to look for.  Once he went to sleep is sort of when I lost it with God.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have had this fear since we've come home from the hospital...the fear that something will happen to John or Quincy.  A very real fear that breaks my heart if I even let my mind begin to go there.  I remind myself that neither John or Quincy are "mine" and that God has blessed me with them, and maybe only for today.  Every time I look at that precious precious precious little boy I just want to build a wall around him, shelter and protect him.  I then feel a nudge in my heart and mind from God that I can't do that.  So many days (just about every time I think about how much I love him...which is multiple times in a day) I have to tell myself, "they are not mine".  So, on the way to the hospital, as my mind couldn't help but think the worst, I lost it with God.  I begged and pleaded for Q to wake up.  He was unconscious and I was helpless.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We made it to the hospital quickly, rushed him in, and the wonderful staff took care of him.  Sometimes you think in a rural town, Thanksgiving day (at noon of course) the care might not be top notch.  I disagree--it may have been to our benefit that there was no one there in the ER except a man and his dog.  Or, simply that God was taking care of us and we were attended to quickly and expertly.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As the nurse took him from my arms I followed.  John had the diaper bag and insurance card (yes in the frantic rush to the hospital I remembered to grab the insurance card--I work at a hospital and know that you can practically be dead and they will ask for your insurance card), so he stayed behind.  We were taken to a trauma room and Q was laid on the bed.  It was bright and loud.  There were about 5 staff members in there, everyone had a limb and his eyes opened.  He was scared and started to cry.  I think that everyone breathed a HUGE sigh of relief when those blue eyes opened.  And I was glad to see him scream.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything after that is a blur and my mind began to slow down.  The doctor said that Q's pupils were slower to react to light than he wanted and ordered a CT.  He did not much like this.  I didn't either.  I had to get on top of him to hold him still.  It scared him to death.  Thank goodness it only lasted a few minutes.  It was awkward and scary.  The results were good.  The doctor said that in head injury with loss of consciousness this was the best outcome that we could hope for.  Go home, wake him every 2 hours for the next 24.  Really, that is all that I remember.  Talk about being thankful.  What a day.  So I'll end on a happy note with pictures of my beautiful family...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8tY05mwI/AAAAAAAAAsU/WfnuUzNU16E/s1600-h/DSC04983.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8tY05mwI/AAAAAAAAAsU/WfnuUzNU16E/s320/DSC04983.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415293458648242946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SycBHnvY9nI/AAAAAAAAAtk/eUTZVR0mmmE/s1600-h/IMG_0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SycBHnvY9nI/AAAAAAAAAtk/eUTZVR0mmmE/s320/IMG_0019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415298307374773874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_dtsVFXI/AAAAAAAAAtc/ngzClHk6bvg/s1600-h/DSC05266.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_dtsVFXI/AAAAAAAAAtc/ngzClHk6bvg/s320/DSC05266.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415296487906415986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_dbLzsII/AAAAAAAAAtU/fgEtzkilmtA/s1600-h/DSC05263.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_dbLzsII/AAAAAAAAAtU/fgEtzkilmtA/s320/DSC05263.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415296482938171522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_c7uVfRI/AAAAAAAAAtM/93JSV5eKQBA/s1600-h/DSC05256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_c7uVfRI/AAAAAAAAAtM/93JSV5eKQBA/s320/DSC05256.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415296474493058322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_cXlGb_I/AAAAAAAAAtE/Dc8VRBDXfvg/s1600-h/DSC05209.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_cXlGb_I/AAAAAAAAAtE/Dc8VRBDXfvg/s320/DSC05209.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415296464790646770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_b_fHGpI/AAAAAAAAAs8/_zS5c5CYBYA/s1600-h/DSC05192.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb_b_fHGpI/AAAAAAAAAs8/_zS5c5CYBYA/s320/DSC05192.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415296458323073682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8u_G19wI/AAAAAAAAAs0/QB8RFLbfjL4/s1600-h/DSC05148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8u_G19wI/AAAAAAAAAs0/QB8RFLbfjL4/s320/DSC05148.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415293486103918338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8uT8x4qI/AAAAAAAAAss/VnT00_EYrEw/s1600-h/DSC05109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8uT8x4qI/AAAAAAAAAss/VnT00_EYrEw/s320/DSC05109.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415293474518983330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8uLE_H-I/AAAAAAAAAsk/FeV7o99i_gY/s1600-h/DSC05054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8uLE_H-I/AAAAAAAAAsk/FeV7o99i_gY/s320/DSC05054.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415293472137486306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8tsvbBAI/AAAAAAAAAsc/ZHSrHlQvIYk/s1600-h/DSC05053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Syb8tsvbBAI/AAAAAAAAAsc/ZHSrHlQvIYk/s320/DSC05053.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415293463993975810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2127150860420854326?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2127150860420854326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2127150860420854326' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2127150860420854326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2127150860420854326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/12/thanksgiving-holiday-and-happenings.html' title='Thanksgiving Holiday and Happenings'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SxspsYUYgvI/AAAAAAAAAsM/WIxS5twU2gM/s72-c/DSC05142.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-5199954619778219445</id><published>2009-11-23T22:39:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T21:34:43.097-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Give Thanks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqSOb7IKI/AAAAAAAAAr8/0fY3vwqcYJk/s1600/DSC03674.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqSOb7IKI/AAAAAAAAAr8/0fY3vwqcYJk/s320/DSC03674.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407532638933819554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqRl2icEI/AAAAAAAAAr0/Cy-0TwWKQrE/s1600/DSC03666.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqRl2icEI/AAAAAAAAAr0/Cy-0TwWKQrE/s320/DSC03666.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407532628039594050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqRSwYJtI/AAAAAAAAArs/8y0pgX1FIGA/s1600/DSC03528.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqRSwYJtI/AAAAAAAAArs/8y0pgX1FIGA/s320/DSC03528.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407532622913480402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqQy0WojI/AAAAAAAAArk/hCxsR9J04aA/s1600/DSC03509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqQy0WojI/AAAAAAAAArk/hCxsR9J04aA/s320/DSC03509.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407532614340223538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqQkgeLlI/AAAAAAAAArc/hoKLRWZWQeY/s1600/DSC03940.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqQkgeLlI/AAAAAAAAArc/hoKLRWZWQeY/s320/DSC03940.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407532610498735698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is so full.  Not busy full.  Good full.  Happy full.  Rich full.  And I'm so thankful to feel full.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Quincy was born everyday just seems better.  It has made me think about so many things in life.  One thing that I roll over and over in my mind is how thankful I am for my family.  When John and I fell in love with one another we talked about how we had not experienced love in such a way before.  We didn't know that our hearts had the ability to love that deeply, fully, and completely.  Then we had Quincy.  A whole new level.  Our love for each other continues to grow, but now we have this perfect little piece of us combined into a blond haired, blue eyed little boy that will just make your heart flip flop in your chest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every single night when I go check on Quincy to make sure that his little feet are still under his blanket and that he has a pacy nearby and that he is breathing (yes, still check) I touch his face or pat his back and say, "thank you God".  Over and over.  Every single night.  I am amazed that God would entrust this little perfect boy to us.  And in the same thought of "thank you God" I am reminded that God didn't actually give Quincy to me.  He is God's child not mine.  Oh but how much richer our lives have become in just 14 months of sharing the responsibilities of raising him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for so many things in my life.  Right now I just want to focus on my little family.  God has given me more than I could have ever dreamed, and I am so thankful to Him for such rich and wonderous blessings!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-5199954619778219445?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/5199954619778219445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=5199954619778219445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5199954619778219445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5199954619778219445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/11/give-thanks.html' title='Give Thanks'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SwtqSOb7IKI/AAAAAAAAAr8/0fY3vwqcYJk/s72-c/DSC03674.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-1105236555149132788</id><published>2009-09-29T13:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T21:44:10.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Boy--Quincy turns One</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5l6N2VCPI/AAAAAAAAAok/hKqD9MzU_cw/s1600-h/025_25.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 196px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5l6N2VCPI/AAAAAAAAAok/hKqD9MzU_cw/s320/025_25.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394861454460782834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xh3OA_7I/AAAAAAAAAqk/yIWOGiGHsp8/s1600-h/DSC02485.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xh3OA_7I/AAAAAAAAAqk/yIWOGiGHsp8/s320/DSC02485.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394874230208790450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St51Dxw-l3I/AAAAAAAAAq0/JUsLoNHWCnU/s320/DSC02536.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394878111395256178" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We opened presents and Quincy had a blast!  He got so many fun things.  His favorite was his Razorback game jersey from his momma!  We we calling the HOGS here.  Note the look on his face!  He loves the Hogs ALMOST as much as he loves his momma!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St51Da0_p-I/AAAAAAAAAqs/TPNIC9IPq8E/s1600-h/DSC02526.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St51Da0_p-I/AAAAAAAAAqs/TPNIC9IPq8E/s320/DSC02526.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394878105238087650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xhZWF1dI/AAAAAAAAAqc/SeSqGtW1ElM/s1600-h/DSC02471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xhZWF1dI/AAAAAAAAAqc/SeSqGtW1ElM/s320/DSC02471.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394874222189598162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xg0TMSaI/AAAAAAAAAqU/txaZERSQODE/s1600-h/DSC02459.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xg0TMSaI/AAAAAAAAAqU/txaZERSQODE/s320/DSC02459.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394874212245326242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xgsY6cUI/AAAAAAAAAqM/ycS5z0DJGi0/s1600-h/DSC02456.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xgsY6cUI/AAAAAAAAAqM/ycS5z0DJGi0/s320/DSC02456.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394874210121838914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xgD-ec-I/AAAAAAAAAqE/QJzzgH2jyN8/s1600-h/DSC02453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5xgD-ec-I/AAAAAAAAAqE/QJzzgH2jyN8/s320/DSC02453.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394874199273534434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5vBAmdUiI/AAAAAAAAAp8/r2gmyJ2bi7w/s1600-h/DSC02451.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5vBAmdUiI/AAAAAAAAAp8/r2gmyJ2bi7w/s320/DSC02451.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394871466768290338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5vATLS1vI/AAAAAAAAAp0/uPpUIoFFPUg/s1600-h/DSC02443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5vATLS1vI/AAAAAAAAAp0/uPpUIoFFPUg/s320/DSC02443.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394871454574761714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5u_28K2sI/AAAAAAAAAps/xr6gWIOJ1mE/s1600-h/DSC02442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5u_28K2sI/AAAAAAAAAps/xr6gWIOJ1mE/s320/DSC02442.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394871446995131074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5u_sbdb8I/AAAAAAAAApk/nzhE5lAt_xk/s1600-h/DSC02438.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5u_sbdb8I/AAAAAAAAApk/nzhE5lAt_xk/s320/DSC02438.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394871444173582274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5u_NplkZI/AAAAAAAAApc/uLApxkH_sg0/s1600-h/DSC02427.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 283px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5u_NplkZI/AAAAAAAAApc/uLApxkH_sg0/s320/DSC02427.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394871435911336338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5pyhljkKI/AAAAAAAAApU/_WLyrX2ILlg/s1600-h/DSC02425.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5pyhljkKI/AAAAAAAAApU/_WLyrX2ILlg/s320/DSC02425.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394865720366698658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two very dear friends, Krysta and Heather.  It was so special to me that Krysta and her family, minus one, came to the party.  Krysta had a baby one week before this picture was taken.  She had just been out of the hospital 3 days and she came to Quincy's party.  Quincy, Nicholas, and William Paul will be lifelong friends if their parents have anything to do with it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5pycDR7UI/AAAAAAAAApM/YNGrRIYRVLY/s1600-h/072_72.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5pycDR7UI/AAAAAAAAApM/YNGrRIYRVLY/s320/072_72.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394865718880759106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5l644a27I/AAAAAAAAAos/o5bo2tvECaE/s1600-h/047_47.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5l644a27I/AAAAAAAAAos/o5bo2tvECaE/s320/047_47.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394861466012277682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had Quincy's first birthday party a few days before his actual birthday.  It was a wonderful, memorable day.  I waver between perfection carefree chaos!  I had planned how I wanted certain aspects of his party, others knew were out of my control and just let it be.  It turned out to be a really special day because most of our closest friends and family were able to attend.  We had it at the church.  That was a great place--plenty of room for the kids to run wild.  We had the gym to use, the playroom, and the youth cafe for eating.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5YHA6Qu8I/AAAAAAAAAoE/zQY7vf5mHFM/s1600-h/DSC02418.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5YHA6Qu8I/AAAAAAAAAoE/zQY7vf5mHFM/s320/DSC02418.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394846281163127746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy was in a great mood despite his lack of sleep the night before (more on that later).  He played hard and did a great job on the cupcake!  He ate it ALL, squished it between his fingers like we had rehearsed it or something!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5YGFgUBTI/AAAAAAAAAns/Wvl_aUtINPQ/s1600-h/DSC02370.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5YGFgUBTI/AAAAAAAAAns/Wvl_aUtINPQ/s320/DSC02370.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394846265216599346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5YFky8x1I/AAAAAAAAAnk/3eRBwady67g/s1600-h/055_55.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5YFky8x1I/AAAAAAAAAnk/3eRBwady67g/s320/055_55.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394846256436397906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5pyMzLWHI/AAAAAAAAApE/TF1KZdZ5cQs/s1600-h/064_64.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5pyMzLWHI/AAAAAAAAApE/TF1KZdZ5cQs/s320/064_64.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394865714786687090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5px1Wfr6I/AAAAAAAAAo8/ulJvEP7-l0I/s1600-h/055_55.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5px1Wfr6I/AAAAAAAAAo8/ulJvEP7-l0I/s320/055_55.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394865708492369826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5pxXinmSI/AAAAAAAAAo0/u6SaEAxGdGU/s1600-h/060_60.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5pxXinmSI/AAAAAAAAAo0/u6SaEAxGdGU/s320/060_60.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394865700490156322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This picture below is from church.  Every month they celebrate birthday's of kids from that month.  Quincy had cake two days in a row and was literally climbing the walls!  Our church children's ministry leader has made so many events in Q's life memorable.  The birthday pyarty was one of them.  Thank you Susan, you are truly a blessing from God.  You do a wonderful job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St51Ehy7LjI/AAAAAAAAArE/biqMkca4jLE/s1600-h/DSC02715.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St51Ehy7LjI/AAAAAAAAArE/biqMkca4jLE/s320/DSC02715.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394878124288323122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SupREPZde7I/AAAAAAAAArU/27NtxZiaEPc/s1600-h/031_31.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SupREPZde7I/AAAAAAAAArU/27NtxZiaEPc/s320/031_31.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398216236651609010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-1105236555149132788?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/1105236555149132788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=1105236555149132788' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1105236555149132788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1105236555149132788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/09/birthday-boy.html' title='Birthday Boy--Quincy turns One'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/St5l6N2VCPI/AAAAAAAAAok/hKqD9MzU_cw/s72-c/025_25.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-7090554591921196831</id><published>2009-09-24T16:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T16:23:59.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>So I realized that Quincy's ONE year birthday has come and gone and I've yet to blog about it!  We've been so busy that it seems I never have time to sit and use the computer.  I promise to update soon.  Quincy and I have both been sick but John's immune system of steel has kept him well.  Love to all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-7090554591921196831?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/7090554591921196831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=7090554591921196831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7090554591921196831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7090554591921196831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/09/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-1557812840546583489</id><published>2009-08-17T20:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T23:50:54.178-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ELEVEN MONTHS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8sv2TGaaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/WCbSHtlW9Bw/s1600-h/DSC02030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8sv2TGaaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/WCbSHtlW9Bw/s320/DSC02030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377065680644762018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8svuVnL_I/AAAAAAAAAl4/ZARhq4izZQU/s1600-h/DSC02013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8svuVnL_I/AAAAAAAAAl4/ZARhq4izZQU/s320/DSC02013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377065678507814898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8svEpMHII/AAAAAAAAAlw/AxXixttBK4I/s1600-h/DSC02007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8svEpMHII/AAAAAAAAAlw/AxXixttBK4I/s320/DSC02007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377065667315637378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We have not taken very many pictures this month.  No excuses, but we have been more busy than usual it seems.  I've started to take some on call ER shifts at work.  My first night was extremely eventful.  The call is from 5pm-8am.  I worked about 10 of those hours.  I was high on adrenaline the next day.  Yes, adrenaline.  There is no place like the ER on a busy night coming off of a full moon.  Then Thursday and Friday I have been paying for not getting enough sleep.  I'm old!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I left home that night right as John was pulling up with Q.  I kissed both of them bye and off I went.  I got in after 1am and left again about 5:30am, so I didn't see the little man that morning either.  That afternoon when I saw Q (about 24 hours and many crazy people later), I just felt my heart swell with love.  I was overcome with thankfulness, joy, love for my family.  My "normal" family.  It was very comforting to realize that my family is not sick or fighting for their life or sanity--right now.  I think almost everyday how fast life can change and my world could be upside down.  I kiss Quincy about a million times every single day.  I can't see the little guy with out kissing him and touching his sweet baby soft face.  I do not take anything for granted!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Quincy has officially turned 11 months old!  He has 4+ teeth on top and still 2 on the bottom.  He is not a fan of baby food anymore, it is all finger food.  He loves to feed himself.  I really get a kick watching him try and pick up something slippery, like mac-n-cheese.  He just chases it around on his tray and when he gets close, he forgoes the pincer grasp and uses a full hand to grab as many of those little slippery things as possible and stuffs them all into his mouth at once.  Oh the joy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bath time is still his favorite though.  After we strip him down as we are running the bath water, he just stands on the side of the tub, totally naked and looks like he wants to jump in!  He bangs his hands on the tub and yells all sorts of things that we have no idea what it translates to!  He has a great giggle and smiles all the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8suksK0BI/AAAAAAAAAlo/fYKZxAIo3rY/s1600-h/DSC01684.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8suksK0BI/AAAAAAAAAlo/fYKZxAIo3rY/s320/DSC01684.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377065658738200594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8puTsgsMI/AAAAAAAAAlI/aWCYz1PjAco/s1600-h/DSC01720.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8puTsgsMI/AAAAAAAAAlI/aWCYz1PjAco/s320/DSC01720.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377062355641348290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8puAQVb5I/AAAAAAAAAlA/Hz5tqMaECSU/s1600-h/DSC01698.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8puAQVb5I/AAAAAAAAAlA/Hz5tqMaECSU/s320/DSC01698.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377062350422896530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People compliment us about how happy a baby he is--and he truly is a very happy little dude.  He is crawling very quickly.  He stands and "crusies" around the furniture but doesn't seem too interested in venturing off alone on his feet!  Just the past few days he has really expanded his vocabulary of constants.  He seems to truly try to communicate with us.  We aren't getting the message yet!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8pv44OKdI/AAAAAAAAAlg/G8S-yhI_3Y4/s1600-h/DSC02002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8pv44OKdI/AAAAAAAAAlg/G8S-yhI_3Y4/s320/DSC02002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377062382802446802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8pvUYGnuI/AAAAAAAAAlY/4q4hQ88V5iM/s1600-h/DSC02000.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8pvUYGnuI/AAAAAAAAAlY/4q4hQ88V5iM/s320/DSC02000.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377062373004058338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8pu7qJ-xI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/iD5hwnVPkgc/s1600-h/DSC01851.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8pu7qJ-xI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/iD5hwnVPkgc/s320/DSC01851.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377062366368889618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every night after Quincy falls asleep I go and check on him at least 5-7 times per night.  I just want to make sure he is breathing and has his blanket and pacy.  He is usually on his belly, arms, hands, legs, and feet tucked under him pushing his rear in the air.  Precious!  I just look at that sweet sleeping baby boy and thank God for him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Below are some pictures of when we met my college friend Hannah and her son, Pratt.  They are 1 day apart.  We had a blast!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8uRpV785I/AAAAAAAAAmg/AwUZHKzj5nY/s1600-h/DSC02039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8uRpV785I/AAAAAAAAAmg/AwUZHKzj5nY/s320/DSC02039.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377067360794178450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8uRNrSHUI/AAAAAAAAAmY/pePVDjBNtVY/s1600-h/DSC02040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8uRNrSHUI/AAAAAAAAAmY/pePVDjBNtVY/s320/DSC02040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377067353367518530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8uQpwhixI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/y5Pkr8PpJ2I/s1600-h/DSC02065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8uQpwhixI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/y5Pkr8PpJ2I/s320/DSC02065.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377067343725824786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8swlQTQYI/AAAAAAAAAmI/d9CjxjEyDxQ/s1600-h/IMG_1015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8swlQTQYI/AAAAAAAAAmI/d9CjxjEyDxQ/s320/IMG_1015.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377065693249487234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-1557812840546583489?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/1557812840546583489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=1557812840546583489' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1557812840546583489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1557812840546583489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/08/eleven-months.html' title='ELEVEN MONTHS'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sp8sv2TGaaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/WCbSHtlW9Bw/s72-c/DSC02030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-6468080497695580494</id><published>2009-08-16T22:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T23:07:28.310-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day of Class</title><content type='html'>As a kid, the Sunday night before a new school year started was almost like Christmas Eve.  Well, the anticipation anyway.  Not knowing what you would get on that first day of classes.  Who would be in what class, where your locker was, and what the teachers were like.  I always remember having many new outfits that I had begged to wear before school started.  I always snuck in a few good wears of my new jeans each year.  Why is it that new clothes make you feel so good?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also got very excited about school supplies.  When I was smaller, before I "traded classes", we would go to Wal-Mart, located in our mall, find the list for my school and teacher and buy the supplies listed.  Once I got into middle school, junior high and high school, school supplies became even more exciting.  See, when you traded classes, you had to wait to get your school supplies because each teacher required something different.  I remember coming home after the first day of school and spending HOURS organizing my school folders, notebooks, pens and pencils.  I must say that was always the most time that I ever spent working on school stuff!  That's right, all before I even had a book I had already put about everything that I was going to put into a class before it even began.  Miracle that I made it into college!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This begins the fifth year of my life that I have not been in school.  Must say that I LOVE it!  I do miss the new clothes, new notebooks, and promise of new beginnings each year that a school year brings.  This year I have gotten caught up in the excitement though.  Quincy will be "transitioning" into the 1 year old class on Wednesday!  And also John and I began to teach Sunday School this year, beginning today.  Yes, we are the proud teachers of the 3-year old at our church!  Actually, we were a bit scared.  But we have fearless and experienced partners in the endeavour, so it should be great fun.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took this &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLfSx04498Y"&gt;video&lt;/a&gt; of John and the kids in our class during "play time".  Cracks me up!  Then we went to Pinnacle Mountain to have lunch/sunday school with our class.  Everyone took their kids, it was so much fun.  I think that every time we are with this group I leave thinking how right it feels.  They are a great bunch!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And a side note--tonight I went to hear William Paul Young, author of "The Shack" speak in a nearby town.  It was really great.  One of the many things that struck me was something that he said about a picture of him that he showed when he was about 4 years old, living in Papa New Guinea.  He was abused in about every way as a child, beginning at 3 or so.  The picture came up, old black and white one, of this beautiful little boy, knee socks and all.  He was smiling, but it looked like a pained smile.  He made the statement to the effect of one being able to see that his eyes were dead at a mere 4 years of age.  And I could see it.  It made my heart ache.  Just earlier at lunch today, someone in our SS class was talking about Quincy's eyes.  How bright and blue they were.  He is so innocent and wonderful.  I can only pray that as he faces such a sinful, hurtful, angry world that his eyes stay bright and beautiful.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-6468080497695580494?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/6468080497695580494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=6468080497695580494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6468080497695580494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6468080497695580494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-of-class.html' title='First Day of Class'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4004535111899304841</id><published>2009-08-02T22:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T22:01:01.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TEN MONTHS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnZCZ2JDULI/AAAAAAAAAkI/-L6BOhhhKGw/s1600-h/DSC01349.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnZCZ2JDULI/AAAAAAAAAkI/-L6BOhhhKGw/s320/DSC01349.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365549017856168114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnZCZOyDQrI/AAAAAAAAAkA/wlVhnDM-vPg/s1600-h/DSC01325.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnZCZOyDQrI/AAAAAAAAAkA/wlVhnDM-vPg/s320/DSC01325.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365549007290712754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnZCY1t2naI/AAAAAAAAAj4/jqnX9QtZNyE/s1600-h/DSC01324.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnZCY1t2naI/AAAAAAAAAj4/jqnX9QtZNyE/s320/DSC01324.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365549000562220450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnZCYZK8ddI/AAAAAAAAAjw/vwwAg2CCr6Q/s1600-h/DSC01322.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnZCYZK8ddI/AAAAAAAAAjw/vwwAg2CCr6Q/s320/DSC01322.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365548992899610066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you can see from the 10 month pics, Q is on the move with a mind of his own.  We had a difficult time getting him to remain still for any amount of time, so these pictures really capture "the moment".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm getting everything mixed up as to what happened when.  I know that Q is very mobile now and there is no sitting him somewhere to watch Baby Einstein so I can get things done.  Unless he is sleeping, someone must keep their eyeballs on the little dude.  He is fast, and finds minuscule things, did I mention fast?  Friday his body added on a "turbo" speed to his already swiftness!  He is still a very happy baby.  We are so blessed!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8v2X-WPI/AAAAAAAAAjY/qYPlGli-_sE/s1600-h/IMG_0972.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8v2X-WPI/AAAAAAAAAjY/qYPlGli-_sE/s320/IMG_0972.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365542798806112498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quincy weighs 20lbs.  and is still talking lots.  So far, we have deciphered mama, dada, bella, no, and the generic answer to everything, "ba".  He waves hi and bye (when he wants to), sort of pets the dogs.  He is still a cuddle-bug which I love.  He can feed himself but prefers for us to hold the bottle.  We are still doing bottles 4 times a day but less formula.  He is drinking juice from a sippy cup and loves almost all foods.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx43ety6I/AAAAAAAAAjA/nCwr_djUAnA/s1600-h/DSC01280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx43ety6I/AAAAAAAAAjA/nCwr_djUAnA/s320/DSC01280.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365530859093740450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few weeks ago Bear was here for a skeet shoot.  During his lunch break we joined him for grilled hot dogs and hamburgers.  Bear was eating a cookie that was too close to Quincy.  Quincy decided he wanted it and took it right out of Bear's mouth.  He pretty much knows that he can get anything he wants from any grandparent.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx4Cofk4I/AAAAAAAAAio/cu5FMU9SmqU/s1600-h/DSC01224.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx4Cofk4I/AAAAAAAAAio/cu5FMU9SmqU/s320/DSC01224.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365530844907672450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx4X0U2bI/AAAAAAAAAiw/1ZJPgOhJFqM/s1600-h/DSC01225.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx4X0U2bI/AAAAAAAAAiw/1ZJPgOhJFqM/s320/DSC01225.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365530850594445746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx4rUBvDI/AAAAAAAAAi4/fiXw82SC-6o/s1600-h/DSC01226.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx4rUBvDI/AAAAAAAAAi4/fiXw82SC-6o/s320/DSC01226.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365530855827684402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone says that pregnancy is 9 months, but when I found out that I was pregnant with Quincy I read in all the books and learned that pregnancy is actually 10 months, 40 weeks. It gets complicated when you start to figure in that the first 4 weeks you aren't actually pregnant, until you are, then you count those weeks. Simple, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so all that to say that a few days ago, on the 14th, Quincy was 10 months old.  Many of my friends have had difficult pregnancies, miscarriages even, babies born that will face tremendous hurdles ahead because of physical abnormalities.  It just reminds me of how fragile and delicate life is, and that it isn't really ours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have so often thought that having a baby is a miracle.  A baby is a miracle.  Seeing Quincy sometimes looking like John, our grandparents, or even great grandparents just baffles me.  How can there be a little bit of Martel, Cunningham, Darden, and Telford all mixed into one pot?  A whole lotta wonderful.  I can't say it enough, God is good and has blessed me beyond measure!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A very long ten months when I was pregnant, but a very short ten months since Q was born.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few of my favorites from this month...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8wiUCP8I/AAAAAAAAAjo/5Xz4LfoJIGQ/s1600-h/DSC00688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 280px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8wiUCP8I/AAAAAAAAAjo/5Xz4LfoJIGQ/s320/DSC00688.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365542810600751042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8wcCrNqI/AAAAAAAAAjg/XpVExoRMrX8/s1600-h/DSC00734.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8wcCrNqI/AAAAAAAAAjg/XpVExoRMrX8/s320/DSC00734.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365542808917325474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8vtyBhYI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/JmJ1SLK8744/s1600-h/DSC01312.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 281px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8vtyBhYI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/JmJ1SLK8744/s320/DSC01312.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365542796499453314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8vIGdaVI/AAAAAAAAAjI/HEl3iQi1mZg/s1600-h/DSC01310.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnY8vIGdaVI/AAAAAAAAAjI/HEl3iQi1mZg/s320/DSC01310.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365542786384619858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx3kCeFhI/AAAAAAAAAig/PMYqXblvWJk/s1600-h/DSC01097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnYx3kCeFhI/AAAAAAAAAig/PMYqXblvWJk/s320/DSC01097.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365530836695127570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;O LORD, you have searched me&lt;br /&gt;    and you know me.&lt;p&gt;You know when I sit and when I rise;&lt;br /&gt;    you perceive my thoughts from afar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You discern my going out and my lying down;&lt;br /&gt;    you are familiar with all my ways.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Before a word is on my tongue&lt;br /&gt;    you know it completely, O LORD.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You hem me in—behind and before;&lt;br /&gt;    you have laid your hand upon me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,&lt;br /&gt;    too lofty for me to attain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Where can I go from your Spirit?&lt;br /&gt;    Where can I flee from your presence?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If I go up to the heavens, you are there;&lt;br /&gt;    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If I rise on the wings of the dawn,&lt;br /&gt;    if I settle on the far side of the sea,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;even there your hand will guide me,&lt;br /&gt;    your right hand will hold me fast.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me&lt;br /&gt;    and the light become night around me,"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;even the darkness will not be dark to you;&lt;br /&gt;    the night will shine like the day,&lt;br /&gt;    for darkness is as light to you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For you created my inmost being;&lt;br /&gt;    you knit me together in my mother's womb.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;&lt;br /&gt;    your works are wonderful,&lt;br /&gt;    I know that full well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My frame was not hidden from you&lt;br /&gt;    when I was made in the secret place.&lt;br /&gt;    When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;your eyes saw my unformed body.&lt;br /&gt;    All the days ordained for me&lt;br /&gt;    were written in your book&lt;br /&gt;    before one of them came to be.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!&lt;br /&gt;    How vast is the sum of them!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Were I to count them,&lt;br /&gt;    they would outnumber the grains of sand.&lt;br /&gt;    When I awake,&lt;br /&gt;    I am still with you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If only you would slay the wicked, O God!&lt;br /&gt;    Away from me, you bloodthirsty men!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They speak of you with evil intent;&lt;br /&gt;    your adversaries misuse your name.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD,&lt;br /&gt;    and abhor those who rise up against you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have nothing but hatred for them;&lt;br /&gt;    I count them my enemies.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Search me, O God, and know my heart;&lt;br /&gt;    test me and know my anxious thoughts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;See if there is any offensive way in me,&lt;br /&gt;    and lead me in the way everlasting&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Psalm 139&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4004535111899304841?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4004535111899304841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4004535111899304841' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4004535111899304841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4004535111899304841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/08/ten-months.html' title='TEN MONTHS'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnZCZ2JDULI/AAAAAAAAAkI/-L6BOhhhKGw/s72-c/DSC01349.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2288872101310376391</id><published>2009-07-30T19:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T19:25:27.665-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wonder Place</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This post was written several weeks ago.  However, I'm just now getting it posted online, the story of my life!  Better late than never, right...???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDtaNXwNBI/AAAAAAAAAfY/_uABNuus8vs/s1600-h/DSC00848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDtaNXwNBI/AAAAAAAAAfY/_uABNuus8vs/s320/DSC00848.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364048190719931410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDtZyXPPUI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/HHnmX0TRurI/s1600-h/DSC00847.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 304px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDtZyXPPUI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/HHnmX0TRurI/s320/DSC00847.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364048183470013762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDtZTuQx_I/AAAAAAAAAfI/sNT3JMjie3U/s1600-h/DSC00846.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDtZTuQx_I/AAAAAAAAAfI/sNT3JMjie3U/s320/DSC00846.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364048175245084658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD606b2KaI/AAAAAAAAAiY/EIrmlXpIczc/s1600-h/DSC01003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD606b2KaI/AAAAAAAAAiY/EIrmlXpIczc/s320/DSC01003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364062943144454562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD60RQsbvI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/29KVjonRfSA/s1600-h/DSC00994.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD60RQsbvI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/29KVjonRfSA/s320/DSC00994.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364062932091825906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5eJXeG7I/AAAAAAAAAiI/aSMJ-hedtfA/s1600-h/DSC00991.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5eJXeG7I/AAAAAAAAAiI/aSMJ-hedtfA/s320/DSC00991.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364061452504013746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5dgnG2qI/AAAAAAAAAiA/vrGQjz777vk/s1600-h/DSC00990.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 309px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5dgnG2qI/AAAAAAAAAiA/vrGQjz777vk/s320/DSC00990.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364061441563744930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5dDa-fpI/AAAAAAAAAh4/ij_PwJ8b43I/s1600-h/DSC00989.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5dDa-fpI/AAAAAAAAAh4/ij_PwJ8b43I/s320/DSC00989.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364061433728237202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5c2BcaUI/AAAAAAAAAhw/GLKPtIPbZ84/s1600-h/DSC00981.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5c2BcaUI/AAAAAAAAAhw/GLKPtIPbZ84/s320/DSC00981.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364061430131484994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5cKP9C6I/AAAAAAAAAho/HJDFdgqOE20/s1600-h/DSC00969.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD5cKP9C6I/AAAAAAAAAho/HJDFdgqOE20/s320/DSC00969.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364061418381183906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2rlfWSmI/AAAAAAAAAhg/LNXUJHN4_UM/s1600-h/DSC00969.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2rlfWSmI/AAAAAAAAAhg/LNXUJHN4_UM/s320/DSC00969.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364058384856664674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2rQ2XGkI/AAAAAAAAAhY/STCn_qWhB3E/s1600-h/DSC00968.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2rQ2XGkI/AAAAAAAAAhY/STCn_qWhB3E/s320/DSC00968.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364058379316042306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2qy9SPLI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/WOXlODLBeMs/s1600-h/DSC00945.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2qy9SPLI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/WOXlODLBeMs/s320/DSC00945.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364058371292019890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2qr6_EqI/AAAAAAAAAhI/LML1THXRxHg/s1600-h/DSC00935.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2qr6_EqI/AAAAAAAAAhI/LML1THXRxHg/s320/DSC00935.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364058369403327138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2qTD4h8I/AAAAAAAAAhA/ECviYR6_Tx0/s1600-h/DSC00926.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnD2qTD4h8I/AAAAAAAAAhA/ECviYR6_Tx0/s320/DSC00926.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364058362729760706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy-DLVY_I/AAAAAAAAAg4/OQBqHaxI0A0/s1600-h/DSC00924.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 181px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy-DLVY_I/AAAAAAAAAg4/OQBqHaxI0A0/s320/DSC00924.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364054304016917490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy9y2o1HI/AAAAAAAAAgw/iFcvH8y11Y0/s1600-h/DSC00923.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy9y2o1HI/AAAAAAAAAgw/iFcvH8y11Y0/s320/DSC00923.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364054299635143794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy9h9eCuI/AAAAAAAAAgo/sf2XNTbILNA/s1600-h/DSC00921.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy9h9eCuI/AAAAAAAAAgo/sf2XNTbILNA/s320/DSC00921.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364054295100394210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy9aLOz1I/AAAAAAAAAgg/pWuzIaKaTU8/s1600-h/DSC00916.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy9aLOz1I/AAAAAAAAAgg/pWuzIaKaTU8/s320/DSC00916.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364054293010632530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy87b_WrI/AAAAAAAAAgY/AciU5UKEYL4/s1600-h/DSC00904.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDy87b_WrI/AAAAAAAAAgY/AciU5UKEYL4/s320/DSC00904.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364054284759423666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seemed like one of the hottest days yet.  I don't think we even reached 100 degrees, but the humidity was like breathing in hot water all day long.  One of those days where staying indoors was a very good idea.  John and I took turns running early this morning and then took turns watching and playing with Quincy as well.  I went to a morning movie--well, it started at 11:20am!  I don't think that I'd ever been to a movie before in the AM.  I met Shannon and Krysta and we watched The Proposal.  It was a really funny movie.  It was fun being with both of these friends--they are both pregnant!  They are fun anyway, but it was like they were extra special today.  Made me want to be pregnant again--until we stepped outside.  Brought back some really bad memories of hot hot days.  I think that we will have to move to the North Pole for the next pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon Quincy had a playdate with Nicholas, Krysta's son.  They were kind enough to let us be their guest to The Wonder Place.  If you've never been there, go!  It is a giant, indoor, air-conditioned, stimilutating playground for kids of all ages.  Some of the pictures are hard to decipher what is happening--there are several "stations" with air blowing through some type of piping system.  Different balls or pieces of fabric shoot through the pipes and float out.  Or, they shoot up into the air.  In the pictures you will see Quincy with a pink piece of fabric.  Some of the pictures you can see his hair blowing from the air coming out of the tube.  I tried to capture the expressions on Q and Nicholas' faces as they watched and played, especially with the scarves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are some of my favorites.  Nicholas is always so sweet with Quincy.  Even from when Quincy was a tiny baby, Nicholas was very gentle.  Here Nicholas is closely examining Quincy's toes.  Not sure why!  Maybe he's making sure that they look "normal", or that there are 10 of 'em!  I don't know, but it is so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDxQ18m3pI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/iSlBhddi8TI/s1600-h/DSC00889.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDxQ18m3pI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/iSlBhddi8TI/s320/DSC00889.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364052427859746450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDxQNSKOWI/AAAAAAAAAgI/Ild7UzkOWs4/s1600-h/DSC00888.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDxQNSKOWI/AAAAAAAAAgI/Ild7UzkOWs4/s320/DSC00888.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364052416944290146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDxPvMhLzI/AAAAAAAAAgA/0WIC4ZeibcY/s1600-h/DSC00887.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDxPvMhLzI/AAAAAAAAAgA/0WIC4ZeibcY/s320/DSC00887.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364052408867565362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDxPXSFjGI/AAAAAAAAAf4/WUkMqn_lbq8/s1600-h/DSC00875.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDxPXSFjGI/AAAAAAAAAf4/WUkMqn_lbq8/s320/DSC00875.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364052402448469090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2288872101310376391?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2288872101310376391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2288872101310376391' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2288872101310376391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2288872101310376391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/07/wonder-place.html' title='The Wonder Place'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SnDtaNXwNBI/AAAAAAAAAfY/_uABNuus8vs/s72-c/DSC00848.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2066766888873898803</id><published>2009-07-24T19:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T19:51:35.307-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Glow Worm</title><content type='html'>Last night I was listening to Quincy crying in his crib, sporadic cries. When I checked on him I caught him attempting CPR on his glow worm. Just the chest compressions weren't enough to keep glow worm glowing.  I wish that I could have taken video of this, precious!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2066766888873898803?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2066766888873898803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2066766888873898803' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2066766888873898803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2066766888873898803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/07/glow-worm.html' title='Glow Worm'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2877673156877561357</id><published>2009-07-23T19:28:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T19:35:21.601-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Of My Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>One of my favorite sounds in the world is to hear a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qn8_cL8dId4"&gt;baby giggle&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qn8_cL8dId4&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2877673156877561357?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2877673156877561357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2877673156877561357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2877673156877561357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2877673156877561357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/07/few-of-my-favorite-things.html' title='A Few Of My Favorite Things'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-6054846703298031863</id><published>2009-07-01T21:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T05:29:57.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NINE MONTHS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Skwcz9-x9vI/AAAAAAAAAew/ookCyf5XKoI/s1600-h/DSC00568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 265px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Skwcz9-x9vI/AAAAAAAAAew/ookCyf5XKoI/s320/DSC00568.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353685736173467378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Skwc0legnWI/AAAAAAAAAfA/1CQBt3Xp4bc/s1600-h/DSC00573.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Skwc0legnWI/AAAAAAAAAfA/1CQBt3Xp4bc/s320/DSC00573.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353685746775530850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Skwc0FeylAI/AAAAAAAAAe4/zR1EJH85To4/s1600-h/DSC00572.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Skwc0FeylAI/AAAAAAAAAe4/zR1EJH85To4/s320/DSC00572.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353685738186773506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkwaP6KcuHI/AAAAAAAAAeg/yRlCEkJT1zA/s1600-h/DSC00565.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkwaP6KcuHI/AAAAAAAAAeg/yRlCEkJT1zA/s320/DSC00565.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353682917650118770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkwaPqPVX_I/AAAAAAAAAeY/Zty3SoJE9j4/s1600-h/DSC00561.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkwaPqPVX_I/AAAAAAAAAeY/Zty3SoJE9j4/s320/DSC00561.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353682913375641586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkwaPEzIr2I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/5zkLimPg26o/s1600-h/DSC00541.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkwaPEzIr2I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/5zkLimPg26o/s320/DSC00541.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353682903325257570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkwaO3kIR8I/AAAAAAAAAeI/cGMrl9RdgzQ/s1600-h/DSC00536.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkwaO3kIR8I/AAAAAAAAAeI/cGMrl9RdgzQ/s320/DSC00536.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353682899772655554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.  Quincy no longer looks or acts like an infant.  He is such a big boy.  And boy is he a boy.  He loves to climb and crawl and hit and eat.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At our 9 month check-up, here were the stats:&lt;br /&gt;19.15#weight (25%-50%)&lt;br /&gt;29" length (50%-75%)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are drinking less formula and eating more solids, which the doctor said should happen.  He loves cheerios.  Every one of like five he actually get to his mouth.  Jack and Bella love to hang around the high chair when Q is eating.  Bananas still seem to be his favorite but he likes all fruits.  Veggies are okay as well as the meat, but he really goes after the fruits.  He still doesn't seem to want any water or juice.  I've tried giving both to him in sippie cups and bottles.  He has 2 bottom teeth now but still wants to chew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy has figured out how to stand up in the crib.  He gets on the bumper pad with both feet, which pushes him up a little higher.  I'm waiting for him to fall out any day now.  There is nothing that we can do.  The bed is in the lowest position.  He can stand.  And has amazing upper body strength.  We've put pillows around the crib so just in case he does jump or crawl he will land softly.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a great sleeper at night.  After his bath, which he still loves, we put him to bed in the same routine as always.  Most nights he goes right to sleep.  Even if he doesn't go right to sleep he will entertain himself and not cry.  Tonight, one HOUR after we had put him down, I heard him on the monitor.  I went to check on him, peeking around the corner it looked like he was practicing crawling in the crib.  He sleeps from about 7p-7a.  But he is still not a napper!  He takes short catnaps at daycare, rarely over 30 mins.  He doesn't seem fussy though, so we just are trying to go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is such a joy to be around.  He loves to play peek-a-boo.  He likes being read books but prefers to chew on them.  He has a book that talks and makes sounds when you open/close/turn pages.  He opens it and slams it, opens it and slams it.  He is really proud of himself I think.  Today I was reading him a non-talking book.  He would look at it, open and close it, and just wait.  Then he would grab the talking book, open it to make sure that it still talked...and just stare at the other book.  It was so funny to watch him get a perplexed look on his face.  I love watching him as he discovers new things and you can just see his little mind working and trying to figure out things.  The older he gets the harder time we have making him be still--it is funny to see him in some of these pictures trying to escape!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yes, that is a dog bone that he is carrying around.  We don't let him teethe on it though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-6054846703298031863?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/6054846703298031863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=6054846703298031863' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6054846703298031863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6054846703298031863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/06/nine-months.html' title='NINE MONTHS'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Skwcz9-x9vI/AAAAAAAAAew/ookCyf5XKoI/s72-c/DSC00568.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-9152103087577184786</id><published>2009-06-30T22:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T22:39:13.668-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Working</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkrTweD1avI/AAAAAAAAAeA/n3jUkb2koxU/s1600-h/DSC00330.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkrTweD1avI/AAAAAAAAAeA/n3jUkb2koxU/s320/DSC00330.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353323936739584754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On getting the nine month post up!  We've had a busy month!  I promise to get with it soon.  For now, I'll share one of my favorite pictures of Quincy to date, maybe THE MOST FAVORITE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-9152103087577184786?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/9152103087577184786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=9152103087577184786' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9152103087577184786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9152103087577184786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/06/still-working.html' title='Still Working'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SkrTweD1avI/AAAAAAAAAeA/n3jUkb2koxU/s72-c/DSC00330.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8667552125436009236</id><published>2009-06-11T22:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T22:25:24.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big 2-0</title><content type='html'>Today we took Quincy to the doctor AGAIN!  The daycare had called yesterday afternoon late and said that his eyes were matted up and he was fussy.  They thought that he had pink eye and since it is so very contagious they said we should have him checked out before returning.  We were in the doctors office this morning at 8am.  How is it that we had the very first appointment of the day, the clinic was empty and we STILL had to wait about 30 mins before being seen?  Very frustrating.  Anyway, poor Quincy.  He has an ear infection in each ear.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor had to wash out his ears and he did not like it.  John and I both had to hold him down.  Even though I knew that this wasn't hurting him, it was difficult for me to watch.  He was so upset.  So, we got antibiotics again and pain medicine for the infection.  Oh, and we've reached twenty lbs.  Big milestone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we went to eat out.  We never ever do this anymore.  I was sitting outside Cozymels on a bench with Q waiting for John to come.  Every single person that walked out commented on what a smiley happy baby he was.  And I know that he didn't feel well.  On the way home he cried and he never cries in the car.  I just feel so bad for him.  I want to take it from him.  But, he still remains so happy.  I thank God every single day for a healthy, happy, wonderful baby.  This is the biggest blessing in the world.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow would be my dad's 60th birthday.  I can't help but think how Quincy looks like him and wish that he were here to see what a beautiful grandson that he has.  Many times his smile or laugh reminds me of my father.  I really hope that he keeps his bright blue eyes, they too, remind me of my dad.  Quincy has taught me so many things, one of which is to take advantage of every moment.  To be happy and find significance in everyday life, because everyday is a gift, a blessing, a chance to love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8667552125436009236?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8667552125436009236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8667552125436009236' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8667552125436009236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8667552125436009236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/06/big-2-0.html' title='The Big 2-0'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4113923282895562535</id><published>2009-06-09T21:16:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T22:42:04.982-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bestest</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8o2acp0QI/AAAAAAAAAd4/QD3Fi4EzA-k/s1600-h/IMG_0906.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8o2acp0QI/AAAAAAAAAd4/QD3Fi4EzA-k/s320/IMG_0906.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345536197989617922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oVli-2EI/AAAAAAAAAdA/vBbjwXbHxvY/s1600-h/IMG_0887.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oVli-2EI/AAAAAAAAAdA/vBbjwXbHxvY/s320/IMG_0887.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345535634033268802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that everyone thinks that their kid is the greatest, and I am no exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had a doctors appointment and decided to take Quincy with me.  I could have left him at daycare but just decided that I wanted him with me, even if it would be difficult to juggle him and all his stuff!  I put him in his stroller and off we go.  My appointment was at 3:00.  I signed in at 2:56.  Very proud of the fact that I made it on time--and with child in tow!  This is a big accomplishment for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we sat.  And sat.  And sat.  And waited.  During this time, I changed a poopie diaper while Q was in his stroller (that actually will lie flat so he can sleep), read a book, smiled, cuddled, laughed, and cooed with Quincy.  He was terrific.  Really.  Everyone commented on his beautiful blue eyes, spiky blond hair, and sweet smile.  Everyone!  He was so content with the ONE, yes one toy that I had brought along.  A rattler that I got for him when he was a month old because he had no toys and I decided that he needed some!  I did have a teething ring and pacifier with me as well.  At several points during our wait, he had all three in his two hands, attempting to get into his one mouth with a half a tooth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8o15DeRNI/AAAAAAAAAdw/AviLcz8X4os/s1600-h/IMG_0903.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8o15DeRNI/AAAAAAAAAdw/AviLcz8X4os/s320/IMG_0903.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345536189025633490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 4o'clock, yes, one hour later, he was still doing great.  I was getting fussy though.  I reclined his seat again, gave him his pacy and started to try and soothe him to sleep.  His eyes got so very heavy.  He is always waving his arms, even as he is drifting off.  So his hand hits the back of the reclined part of the stroller, only to find that it wasn't hard and firm like the rest of the stroller--it was a plastic cover designed only to keep the light out.  So Quincy starts tugging and pulling and eating at this!  It wasn't too long before he figured out that he could get out.  Even precious still!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oWXw5dKI/AAAAAAAAAdg/BpARmE5hEgg/s1600-h/IMG_0894.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oWXw5dKI/AAAAAAAAAdg/BpARmE5hEgg/s320/IMG_0894.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345535647513408674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oWd9RReI/AAAAAAAAAdY/AcM_HEMW3dA/s1600-h/IMG_0893.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oWd9RReI/AAAAAAAAAdY/AcM_HEMW3dA/s320/IMG_0893.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345535649175913954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oWEW7CSI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/QYvk2LOSxYE/s1600-h/IMG_0892.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oWEW7CSI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/QYvk2LOSxYE/s320/IMG_0892.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345535642304186658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, at 4:15, I was called back.  Another 30 minutes of entertaining a wonderful child.  Again, I was really fussy at this point.  I stuck my head out of the room to make sure that I wasn't forgotten about and the nurses said that the doctor was on his way in.  By this time my back is hurting so badly I'm almost in tears.  Even with Quincy being an angel, there was way too much sitting and entertaining for me to handle.  An employee (an office worker I think) came in to sit with me.  I guess she sensed that I was about to lose it.  And I knew that Q was near his breaking point as well.  She asked if she could hold him.  She took him and we sat and talked until the doctor came in.  She asked if she could just walk him up and down the halls while the doctor saw me.  I said yes and thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came out, she was sitting with him on her chest, both of their eyes were half closed.  I thanked her so very much, I knew that Quincy would not have sat still and quiet (I mean, he had already been quiet and wonderful for 2 1/2 hours) and I couldn't' have concentrated on what the doc had to say.  After I told her thank you, she told me thank you as well, saying that sitting and holding a baby gave her some perspective that she needed today.  On my way out, everyone was saying, "bye Quincy".  I think that she took him around and just bragged on him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we finally made it out of the office at 5:15.  I was all prepared to be very mad, but after being treated so kindly by the staff I realized that I was actually grateful for the wait.  The wait made my pain excruciating, and when I saw the doctor I was able to convey to him how badly I was hurting.  Had I been seen earlier before I was absolutely exhausted, I would have minimized my pain.  Hard to explain, but what I'm trying to say is that it was good for the doctor to see me when I was in pain.  During the exam he was able to see how certain movements really hurt and what I could and could not do, therefore giving him a better idea of how to help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a few options as to what to do know to hopefully control my pain with little risk.  Please pray that if I choose to do this procedure, it will give me pain relief.  I don't think that Quincy nor myself can sit in any more doctors offices:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oV57IzzI/AAAAAAAAAdI/IZSJflU4Enc/s1600-h/IMG_0888.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8oV57IzzI/AAAAAAAAAdI/IZSJflU4Enc/s320/IMG_0888.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345535639503294258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4113923282895562535?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4113923282895562535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4113923282895562535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4113923282895562535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4113923282895562535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/06/bestest.html' title='The Bestest'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Si8o2acp0QI/AAAAAAAAAd4/QD3Fi4EzA-k/s72-c/IMG_0906.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8054966867303320293</id><published>2009-06-06T16:22:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T21:57:07.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day In The Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SixjzYjEAfI/AAAAAAAAAcY/Ho-RftDTVZc/s1600-h/DSCN2342.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SixjzYjEAfI/AAAAAAAAAcY/Ho-RftDTVZc/s320/DSCN2342.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344756592195928562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sixjy33_KMI/AAAAAAAAAcI/rqbl8dgfQZc/s1600-h/DSCN2338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sixjy33_KMI/AAAAAAAAAcI/rqbl8dgfQZc/s320/DSCN2338.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344756583425321154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been oh so relaxing, just as Saturdays should be.  Q woke up about 7:30am.  I got up to spend some time with my sweet little boy.  Work has been really long lately, some days to where I leave before he wakes and get home as it is time to get him ready for bed, spending less than one hour with him.  Not liking this at all.  So, today it was nice to play with no rush or place to be.  He ate and then we lounged on the couch together watching Baby Einstein.  It was great!  I put him down for a nap about 10am and got back in the bed with John.  He woke up about 11 and John took this shift so I could "sleep in".  I had a friend tell me that once you have kids, you will not get another full night of sleep or the chance to sleep in for another 18 years...and I'm thinking that he has been pretty darn accurate thus far!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sixjzc2K6HI/AAAAAAAAAcg/foO_kHwMQwI/s1600-h/IMG_0101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sixjzc2K6HI/AAAAAAAAAcg/foO_kHwMQwI/s320/IMG_0101.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344756593349814386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So once the whole fam was up and moving we decided to go to the pool.  After slathering Q up with sunscreen, we ventured out.  We had so much stuff!  The pool was a bit cool but Quincy didn't seem to mind!  We had him covered with a hat, full body swimsuit, and a floating little boat with a canopy!  No chance of burning here!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SixlQq7mKPI/AAAAAAAAAco/YWMHEbCiAsg/s1600-h/IMG_0109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SixlQq7mKPI/AAAAAAAAAco/YWMHEbCiAsg/s320/IMG_0109.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344758194858502386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played and played and then sat in the shade just holding him and talking (or babbling).  He fell asleep on John's chest and then we put him on some towels for his nap.  He did great.  It was such good weather.  In the shade, it was perfect!  We really enjoyed the afternoon.  After Q woke up, we came inside.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SixjzKzxgtI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/WRQIjIz0nLM/s1600-h/DSCN2340.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SixjzKzxgtI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/WRQIjIz0nLM/s320/DSCN2340.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344756588507923154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are getting ready to sit on our deck and grill dinner.  As I've said before, life is full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SixlRH8IY6I/AAAAAAAAAc4/ZL--N287vRM/s1600-h/IMG_0884.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SixlRH8IY6I/AAAAAAAAAc4/ZL--N287vRM/s320/IMG_0884.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344758202645373858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8054966867303320293?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8054966867303320293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8054966867303320293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8054966867303320293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8054966867303320293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-in-life.html' title='A Day In The Life'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SixjzYjEAfI/AAAAAAAAAcY/Ho-RftDTVZc/s72-c/DSCN2342.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4668786760246001310</id><published>2009-06-03T17:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T17:33:14.114-05:00</updated><title type='text'>EIGHT Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKu4zNyBI/AAAAAAAAAbA/a4CiwUEUVQc/s1600-h/IMG_0788.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKu4zNyBI/AAAAAAAAAbA/a4CiwUEUVQc/s320/IMG_0788.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342899439814952978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKuk4T9sI/AAAAAAAAAa4/X8BfLQG3cPk/s1600-h/IMG_0779.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKuk4T9sI/AAAAAAAAAa4/X8BfLQG3cPk/s320/IMG_0779.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342899434467620546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I can't believe it, my baby is 8 months old (and by the time I get this posted, he will be close to 9 mo).  He is so much fun these days.  It is hard for me to remember what has happened since last month.  He weighs about 18-19lbs.  We haven't had an official weigh in at the doc office for the 8 month mark.  He can only wear a few 9 month things, mostly wears 12 month clothes the best.  He does have several things that are 18 mo that he wears but just doesn't fill out the middle.  He still has bright blue eyes (we are praying that he keeps these) and blond, spiky hair.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKuTBcROI/AAAAAAAAAaw/3NXKyRwlqiY/s1600-h/IMG_0768.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKuTBcROI/AAAAAAAAAaw/3NXKyRwlqiY/s320/IMG_0768.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342899429674075362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is eating a lot!  He likes most things except green beans and peas.  When he tries something new for the first time, the expression is priceless.  I'll try to download a video so you can see this.  Hilarious.  He is still putting everything into his mouth.  He is gotten on all 4's and rocks back and forth so I feel for sure that by next post he will be crawling.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting him in his pj's after bed is getting harder and harder.  It takes John and I both to get him dressed.  He isn't fighting us or anything, he is just so happy (i guess because he feels so clean???) and he flips and flops and we are both ready for bed after getting him dressed in his pj's.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He really seems to like daycare.  Every time I go to pick him up he is really enjoying himself.  Once a month they ask for volunteers at noon so the staff can have a staff meeting.  I went this week and Q was the happiest baby there.  No favoritism, I promise.  He just played and entertained himself.  I did catch him pulling a little girls hair though.  But he wasn't like some of the kids, demanding attention or demanding to be held.  In fact I made a point of picking him up and loving on him before leaving because while I was there I was attending to lots of unhappy kids and didn't even ever have to do anything for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are loving every minute and can't wait to give him brothers and/or sisters.  Life is so full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLdCcDgNI/AAAAAAAAAb4/ad7dZXjmAyw/s1600-h/IMG_0814.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLdCcDgNI/AAAAAAAAAb4/ad7dZXjmAyw/s320/IMG_0814.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342900232676147410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLc61p90I/AAAAAAAAAbw/8MZOE29EdoA/s1600-h/IMG_0803.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLc61p90I/AAAAAAAAAbw/8MZOE29EdoA/s320/IMG_0803.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342900230636042050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLchNWsrI/AAAAAAAAAbo/2M9hpAGOyBs/s1600-h/IMG_0821.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLchNWsrI/AAAAAAAAAbo/2M9hpAGOyBs/s320/IMG_0821.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342900223756120754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLcWyGFzI/AAAAAAAAAbg/3KR0yPCO44w/s1600-h/IMG_0798.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLcWyGFzI/AAAAAAAAAbg/3KR0yPCO44w/s320/IMG_0798.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342900220957431602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLcDBpX_I/AAAAAAAAAbY/_9tu-fRHVCM/s1600-h/IMG_0794.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXLcDBpX_I/AAAAAAAAAbY/_9tu-fRHVCM/s320/IMG_0794.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342900215653949426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKvVtTzhI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/cPRFKiStsZ4/s1600-h/IMG_0791.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKvVtTzhI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/cPRFKiStsZ4/s320/IMG_0791.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342899447574810130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKvGbdBPI/AAAAAAAAAbI/nNW4Z2B1WFM/s1600-h/IMG_0790.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKvGbdBPI/AAAAAAAAAbI/nNW4Z2B1WFM/s320/IMG_0790.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342899443473384690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4668786760246001310?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4668786760246001310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4668786760246001310' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4668786760246001310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4668786760246001310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/05/eight-months.html' title='EIGHT Months'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SiXKu4zNyBI/AAAAAAAAAbA/a4CiwUEUVQc/s72-c/IMG_0788.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8877244496132068510</id><published>2009-05-25T22:38:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T22:52:19.347-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We Are Still Here</title><content type='html'>I really can't tell you what I've been up to, but I've been up to alot of it!  I feel more busy than ever and less productive than ever.  We spend most days and nights with Quincy, just watching him, laughing at or with him, adoring him.  He makes the greatest faces and is such a good and happy baby.  I've not completed the 8th month post yet, but here are some pics of what we've been up to lately (warning, it is a random combo of pics)!  Promise to try and write more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmZVXVbqI/AAAAAAAAAao/bo2FH3RgWz0/s1600-h/IMG_0093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmZVXVbqI/AAAAAAAAAao/bo2FH3RgWz0/s320/IMG_0093.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339974368595635874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmZdxCA_I/AAAAAAAAAag/0yp6eNgjusk/s1600-h/IMG_0091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmZdxCA_I/AAAAAAAAAag/0yp6eNgjusk/s320/IMG_0091.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339974370850898930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmDRePThI/AAAAAAAAAaY/XYkL7IK_rEU/s1600-h/IMG_0090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmDRePThI/AAAAAAAAAaY/XYkL7IK_rEU/s320/IMG_0090.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339973989593730578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmDcP37hI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/gT9ZMiQ5rvQ/s1600-h/IMG_0078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmDcP37hI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/gT9ZMiQ5rvQ/s320/IMG_0078.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339973992486268434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmDIPXi9I/AAAAAAAAAaI/Ef29iPFDZWU/s1600-h/IMG_0050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmDIPXi9I/AAAAAAAAAaI/Ef29iPFDZWU/s320/IMG_0050.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339973987115437010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmCorrK5I/AAAAAAAAAaA/UQv09KzK4Po/s1600-h/IMG_0684.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmCorrK5I/AAAAAAAAAaA/UQv09KzK4Po/s320/IMG_0684.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339973978644229010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmCacZUOI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/0jN-jyS6RLs/s1600-h/IMG_0663.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmCacZUOI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/0jN-jyS6RLs/s320/IMG_0663.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339973974822047970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8877244496132068510?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8877244496132068510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8877244496132068510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8877244496132068510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8877244496132068510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-are-still-here.html' title='We Are Still Here'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ShtmZVXVbqI/AAAAAAAAAao/bo2FH3RgWz0/s72-c/IMG_0093.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-1400922725083440332</id><published>2009-05-10T22:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T22:27:22.802-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry to say that I have no recent pictures.  Life has been really busy for us.  Between our jobs and Quincy being on the move, we've had family in for several weekends in a row...Easter, Quincy's dedication.  Or we were out of town for wedding, etc.  Life just keeps moving too fast.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point:  this week we got a postcard from church saying that Quincy would be moving up to the next class at church.  What?  A postcard?  Shouldn't there have been some fanfare?  I have looked forward to the crawling, the sitting, the babbling, but didn't really think that all of that meant he is growing.  I can't stop it, reverse it...but I can revel in it.  And I do.  I did.  Especially today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John gave me my mothers day present a few days ago...he couldn't wait and I sure wasn't going to say, "let's wait til mothers day"!  It was a pandora charm to add to my growing, almost out of room bracelet.  It was the charm called "the key to my heart".  Ah.  Perfect.  Only he and Quincy have a key.  Perfect.  Just like today.  And most days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-1400922725083440332?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/1400922725083440332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=1400922725083440332' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1400922725083440332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1400922725083440332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3554527975805561170</id><published>2009-05-05T00:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T22:55:24.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Who's 30!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sf-4OCt4WFI/AAAAAAAAAZw/jcND_SV45Lc/s1600-h/photo-12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sf-4OCt4WFI/AAAAAAAAAZw/jcND_SV45Lc/s320/photo-12.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332183035216943186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Julie!&lt;br /&gt;Love, Molly, Molly's John, &amp; Quincy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3554527975805561170?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3554527975805561170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3554527975805561170' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3554527975805561170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3554527975805561170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/05/look-whos-30.html' title='Look Who&apos;s 30!'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sf-4OCt4WFI/AAAAAAAAAZw/jcND_SV45Lc/s72-c/photo-12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-7404333841605915225</id><published>2009-04-26T14:44:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T14:40:51.015-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dedication Sunday</title><content type='html'>There are some things in life where you can't seem to find words to express your heart.  I felt that way after Quincy was born.  I kept putting off writing a blog because it was not possible for me to find the words to convey my feelings.  When I married John, it was the same thing.  But, I didn't have a blog then:)  And no one wants to hear that mushy guschy stuff anyway (still more on that later).  On Sunday, we had Quincy "dedicated" at church.  In the Baptist church we don't do infant baptism, so the dedication is our way of recognizing a new life in our church.  It was a special day for me yesterday, but as I look back at the pictures of the entire day, it became more special.  I really don't know how to explain it except for that parts of the day felt like a dream and I didn't fully appreciate the of the day until I had a bit of time for it to sink in.  I think I knew it was important, but until I had time for it to sink in, I did not appreciate all that it would mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a beautiful day in the afternoon.  All of our family and friends had gone home.  We tried to get Quincy to take a nap--he was very very tired.  No luck.  We were exhausted and were just like, "come on, kid....just 30 minutes".  Nope.  John and I were in the bed because we were really hoping for a serious nap, and in my opinion, a serious nap requires a seriously good pillow and soft sheets.  Some people say a nap is like 10-20 minutes in the recliner.  I'm not sure who gets to define nap, but in my opinion, a nap is best carried out in pj's, in bed, in time frames of hours, preferably 2 or more.  So, that is what we were hoping for.  Like many times before, Q had a different idea.  After fighting sleep we decided to put him into bed with us, hoping that he would sleep there.  We've only done this one time before.  So, we have him in the middle and are hoping for some shut eye.  No way.  He was making us both laugh though.  He was still, on his back, glancing from mom to dad.  Not sure what he was doing in the big bed, but it wasn't going to be sleep.  He was quiet for a few minutes (out of respect for us, I think) and then found out that it was really fun to grab and pull our noses.  So, we gave up on the nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to be in the bed asleep, and if not here, then outside.  We went to Pinnacle Mountain and just took a few hours to sort of catch our breath and enjoy one another.  So, these pictures of of the dedication Sunday at church and then our family time afterwards.  Here are the pictures.  I must insert here that I am so very thankful to God for giving me John and Quincy.  Today John and I celebrate our two year wedding anniversary.  A year ago on this day we found out that we were having a baby boy.  Two years ago, we committed our lives to each other.  I can't believe where we've been in that two years and could not have imagined God blessing me so much.  Thank you God for being a God of grace and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZOoMpqr-I/AAAAAAAAAYA/GUis4RVB4V4/s1600-h/DSCN2148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZOoMpqr-I/AAAAAAAAAYA/GUis4RVB4V4/s320/DSCN2148.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329533661537284066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZKJ7d9w3I/AAAAAAAAAX4/i3c3EcCPJHs/s1600-h/DSC00897.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZKJ7d9w3I/AAAAAAAAAX4/i3c3EcCPJHs/s320/DSC00897.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329528743482213234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZKJkdb3HI/AAAAAAAAAXw/2bh_wovy1AI/s1600-h/DSCN2147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZKJkdb3HI/AAAAAAAAAXw/2bh_wovy1AI/s320/DSCN2147.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329528737305975922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZKJS5LoyI/AAAAAAAAAXo/fYVoQ-7RyUw/s1600-h/DSC00885.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZKJS5LoyI/AAAAAAAAAXo/fYVoQ-7RyUw/s320/DSC00885.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329528732590514978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfTB68L1UMI/AAAAAAAAAXg/nkSmoE8uCxk/s1600-h/DSC00924.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfTB68L1UMI/AAAAAAAAAXg/nkSmoE8uCxk/s320/DSC00924.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329097477418471618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfTB6oglR9I/AAAAAAAAAXY/8UT0NPLKHqo/s1600-h/DSC00888.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfTB6oglR9I/AAAAAAAAAXY/8UT0NPLKHqo/s320/DSC00888.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329097472136792018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRTN7DTPI/AAAAAAAAAZg/Ao9qztZ4lno/s1600-h/DSCN2238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRTN7DTPI/AAAAAAAAAZg/Ao9qztZ4lno/s320/DSCN2238.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329536599636266226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRTHCC3rI/AAAAAAAAAZY/QCnPydu5Kcw/s1600-h/DSCN2233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRTHCC3rI/AAAAAAAAAZY/QCnPydu5Kcw/s320/DSCN2233.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329536597786549938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRSiwCDQI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/Lms9P8lY94M/s1600-h/DSCN2234.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRSiwCDQI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/Lms9P8lY94M/s320/DSCN2234.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329536588047322370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRSX5qv7I/AAAAAAAAAZI/QSrBcHp3u6g/s1600-h/DSCN2231.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRSX5qv7I/AAAAAAAAAZI/QSrBcHp3u6g/s320/DSCN2231.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329536585134948274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRSCdzHyI/AAAAAAAAAZA/hUcph0PuKTk/s1600-h/DSCN2230.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZRSCdzHyI/AAAAAAAAAZA/hUcph0PuKTk/s320/DSCN2230.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329536579380911906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZP1u8TPUI/AAAAAAAAAY4/NGp8Gqph3r4/s1600-h/DSCN2229.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZP1u8TPUI/AAAAAAAAAY4/NGp8Gqph3r4/s320/DSCN2229.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329534993592171842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZP1eo7UMI/AAAAAAAAAYw/6smVwNv1OHM/s1600-h/DSCN2223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZP1eo7UMI/AAAAAAAAAYw/6smVwNv1OHM/s320/DSCN2223.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329534989215944898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZP1NTzjbI/AAAAAAAAAYo/5wE89iBYdH8/s1600-h/DSCN2213.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZP1NTzjbI/AAAAAAAAAYo/5wE89iBYdH8/s320/DSCN2213.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329534984563953074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZP0tLBgfI/AAAAAAAAAYg/Ay4TaiF5J8Q/s1600-h/DSCN2208.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZP0tLBgfI/AAAAAAAAAYg/Ay4TaiF5J8Q/s320/DSCN2208.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329534975937184242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZOpD-fX-I/AAAAAAAAAYY/TtwB8FNHxRw/s1600-h/DSCN2189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZOpD-fX-I/AAAAAAAAAYY/TtwB8FNHxRw/s320/DSCN2189.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329533676388573154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZOo5jy7qI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/mrlgCyNDXO8/s1600-h/DSCN2170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZOo5jy7qI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/mrlgCyNDXO8/s320/DSCN2170.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329533673592254114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZOotq2CxI/AAAAAAAAAYI/uaf--jUrBWQ/s1600-h/DSCN2158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZOotq2CxI/AAAAAAAAAYI/uaf--jUrBWQ/s320/DSCN2158.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329533670400592658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to both grandmothers, Todd &amp; Kim, Heather, Shannon &amp; Rory for coming!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-7404333841605915225?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/7404333841605915225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=7404333841605915225' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7404333841605915225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7404333841605915225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/04/dedication-sunday.html' title='Dedication Sunday'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SfZOoMpqr-I/AAAAAAAAAYA/GUis4RVB4V4/s72-c/DSCN2148.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4743676137786386313</id><published>2009-04-22T22:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T22:47:46.558-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SEVEN Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_fBiRWGHI/AAAAAAAAAWw/KaDUKTabtDM/s1600-h/DSC00668.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_fBiRWGHI/AAAAAAAAAWw/KaDUKTabtDM/s320/DSC00668.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327722101675006066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_eB7wf5fI/AAAAAAAAAWo/sN-YwUXJUC8/s1600-h/DSC00687.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_eB7wf5fI/AAAAAAAAAWo/sN-YwUXJUC8/s320/DSC00687.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327721009004930546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_eBRybRwI/AAAAAAAAAWg/O_5KKB2mrQ4/s1600-h/DSC00656.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_eBRybRwI/AAAAAAAAAWg/O_5KKB2mrQ4/s320/DSC00656.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327720997738727170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_anSNCe6I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/-u9qhd4f4lM/s1600-h/DSC00646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_anSNCe6I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/-u9qhd4f4lM/s320/DSC00646.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327717252638866338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy is seven months old.  Wow.  I could not imagine my life without him now.  He weighs 17.15lbs.  I thought that our next doctors appointment would be his 9 month check-up.  I thought wrong.  Yesterday I noticed Quincy tugging at his ear.  Just once or twice.  No fever, no complaining.  At his six month check-up, he had a bad ear infection in each ear--I would have never known because he didn't complain.  So, I saw one tug at the ear and had him in the doctors office today.  Yep, ear infection in each ear.  He acts fine.  Amoxocillin again.  So, on to other things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was browsing Target's baby clothes and saw some onsies that were sized as "NB".  I thought, that is tiny.  I remember when NB was too big for Quincy.  I really can't believe that we have made it 7 months.  And it seems like each day gets better with him.  I'll try to remember what has changed since last month.  It seems like something new everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q is eating 3 meals of "solid" food plus bottles.  He likes everything so far except for peas and green beans, I know this because he gags.  He gags, which makes me gag, so we've given up on green veggies for now.  So we've been saying that he is teething since he was like 2 months.  We still say that now.  No teeth yet but all signs point to a few showing up soon. Quincy sleeps all night, which is a wonderful blessing.  He has slept all night, but not consistently until this month.  He usually goes down between 6-8, depending on what we have going and wakes about 6:30am.  If he wakes up in the night, he will soothe himself back to sleep.  He hardly sleeps at  all during the day.  He saves it up for the weekend.  I think that there is just too much excitement at daycare and he doesn't want to miss it, so he stays awake.  One of the daycare workers told me that they put him in his crib and he just stays there, quiet, like he knows it is nap time.  He doesn't cry or anything.  John and I both remember not wanting to take naps when we were little.  Couldn't be farther from what we'd prefer now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy is almost sitting up by himself.  He will sit up for a few seconds, then sort of lean to one side and use that arm to prop himself up but eventually falls over.  He gets better and stronger everyday.  He's scooting on his tummy.  A friend told me this is the soldier crawl.  I still think that he is aways from crawling, but he is trying.  Yesterday I had him on the changing table.  He turned over on his belly.  I was right there, just watching to see what he would do.  He grabbed the end of the changing pad with both hands and pulled himself to the end.  He then took his left arm and in one clean sweep cleared off the dresser.  He was very proud of himself.  Then he grabbed the end of the dresser and pulled himself to the end of that and just looked down.  He then looked up at me and smiled.  I could just see trouble in his eyes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q is pretty good at expressing himself.  He has this deep strong brow line like his father.  Many times you can just look at him and know what he is thinking....like in the following photo, he is saying, "i'm over it, done".  Possibly even some sign language?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_bdwQ0-AI/AAAAAAAAAWY/QknfF5n6MZ8/s1600-h/DSC00688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_bdwQ0-AI/AAAAAAAAAWY/QknfF5n6MZ8/s320/DSC00688.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327718188420757506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we feed him solid food and he is full he starts to blow raspberries with food in his mouth.  Yesterday I got prunes spewed on me.  And then he laughed.  He is learning what he is capable of.  The other day I was in the store and a little girl said "hi" to him.  She was probably 2 or so.  He didn't respond and I guess that threw her for a loop, so she just kept repeating "hi".  We continued to walk the aisles and I hear him say "hi".  It was about 3-4 minutes after we had seen the little girl.  Of course he was just mimicking her and hasn't done it again, but still, it was wild!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is like a fish out of water when we are trying to put his pj's on him after his bath.  Literally, he is like a fish in water and really does flop around like a fish when we get him out of the tub.  It takes the two of us to hold him down and distract him in order to get him ready for bed.  It reminds me of watching that crazy man, the crocodile hunter, as he wrestled down the crocks.  He didn't survive, and sometimes I think that we might not either.  He smiles the whole time.  And, I actually love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_fB1fZBMI/AAAAAAAAAW4/-d9f_KteCo8/s1600-h/DSC00460.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_fB1fZBMI/AAAAAAAAAW4/-d9f_KteCo8/s320/DSC00460.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327722106834191554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4743676137786386313?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4743676137786386313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4743676137786386313' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4743676137786386313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4743676137786386313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/04/seven-months.html' title='SEVEN Months'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se_fBiRWGHI/AAAAAAAAAWw/KaDUKTabtDM/s72-c/DSC00668.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8629487955996478905</id><published>2009-04-20T21:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T21:39:26.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still To Come</title><content type='html'>I'm very behind on blogging.  And I'm sorry for those who want to see the Easter pics and 7 month pics.  They are really cute!  So, just a note to say, I'm working on it, and I'll give you a sneak peek!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se0xHpyOabI/AAAAAAAAAWI/LTIDsAwuxWA/s1600-h/DSCN2094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se0xHpyOabI/AAAAAAAAAWI/LTIDsAwuxWA/s320/DSCN2094.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326967941794523570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se0xHQLq4RI/AAAAAAAAAWA/fVp1v3Pw3eM/s1600-h/DSC00544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se0xHQLq4RI/AAAAAAAAAWA/fVp1v3Pw3eM/s320/DSC00544.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326967934921924882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8629487955996478905?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8629487955996478905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8629487955996478905' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8629487955996478905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8629487955996478905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/04/still-to-come.html' title='Still To Come'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Se0xHpyOabI/AAAAAAAAAWI/LTIDsAwuxWA/s72-c/DSCN2094.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-1756038301020176010</id><published>2009-04-04T17:45:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T22:17:17.967-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hell-Do</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdlydTKqvpI/AAAAAAAAAV4/8gUtdgzzszE/s1600-h/photo-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdlydTKqvpI/AAAAAAAAAV4/8gUtdgzzszE/s320/photo-4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321410282401742482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father-in-law wears a hat that he has named hell-do.  It is actually a driving hat, I think.  And come to think of it, Barry does wear his when he goes driving.  The first time that I saw him wear it, I just kept telling him how very dapper he looked.  He has this beautiful white hair, and when he wears the hat, so great!  I'm hoping that John will wear a hat like that when he has white hair:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer when John's parents came back from Virginia they brought us an outfit that had a "hell-do" hat with it.  I was so excited about it.  It seemed so big then, but when I put it on him Saturday morning, it fit perfectly.  He didn't fuss or anything, it was like it was in his genes to wear a hell-do.  John said that Quincy looks like his dad to him...I think it was the hell-do.  I will post a picture of Barry when he was about Quincy's age and the resemblance is uncanny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning John, Quincy, and I went downtown to participate in the Heart Walk.  The weather was great and we had a really good time.  Quincy rode kangaroo style with John using the Baby Bjorn.  He wore his hat the entire time and it was great for actual functionality, keeping the sun out of his eyes.  We weren't able to get that great of a picture since the hell-do cap cast a shadow over Quincy's eyes--dang hat, doing it's job.  Ignore the huge gash on Quincy's nose.  When I went to get him out of the crib Saturday morning, there was blood all over his face.  Once I wiped it off, I saw the monstrous scratch.  Didn't faze him a bit, but made my heart skip a few beats to see blood on his face.  On the last picture that face Q is making is because I pulled his hat up to see his eyes and the sun was in his face.  He didn't like that.  So, here are the pictures of my boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdlydQb0TOI/AAAAAAAAAVw/PpAet4oxgmc/s1600-h/photo-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdlydQb0TOI/AAAAAAAAAVw/PpAet4oxgmc/s320/photo-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321410281668365538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdlydGrNsSI/AAAAAAAAAVo/ii_hqIClfaE/s1600-h/photo-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdlydGrNsSI/AAAAAAAAAVo/ii_hqIClfaE/s320/photo-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321410279048589602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-1756038301020176010?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/1756038301020176010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=1756038301020176010' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1756038301020176010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1756038301020176010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/04/hell-do.html' title='Hell-Do'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdlydTKqvpI/AAAAAAAAAV4/8gUtdgzzszE/s72-c/photo-4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8877404991380034790</id><published>2009-04-01T18:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T20:19:02.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hand-foot-and-mouth-disease</title><content type='html'>oh my.  really?  another common kid infection.&lt;br /&gt;no, we don't have it...yet&lt;br /&gt;but someone at the daycare does, which means that we will have it soon.&lt;br /&gt;john says at least it's not hoof-and-mouth-disease.&lt;br /&gt;i couldn't agree more&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8877404991380034790?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8877404991380034790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8877404991380034790' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8877404991380034790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8877404991380034790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/04/hand-foot-and-mouth-disease.html' title='hand-foot-and-mouth-disease'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-110014830080160352</id><published>2009-03-28T17:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T20:53:14.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Auntie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdF3ZrXBAuI/AAAAAAAAAVg/n8S4IOISP8k/s1600-h/DSCN2082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdF3ZrXBAuI/AAAAAAAAAVg/n8S4IOISP8k/s320/DSCN2082.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319163917920961250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdF3Zd5IYyI/AAAAAAAAAVY/kpYITxwqgtk/s1600-h/DSCN2087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdF3Zd5IYyI/AAAAAAAAAVY/kpYITxwqgtk/s320/DSCN2087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319163914305954594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my auntie Shannon.  Harrison.  I have another auntie Shannon.  Thanks for spending the day with me!  I can't wait to meet uncle Tony.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-110014830080160352?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/110014830080160352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=110014830080160352' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/110014830080160352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/110014830080160352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/03/another-auntie.html' title='Another Auntie'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SdF3ZrXBAuI/AAAAAAAAAVg/n8S4IOISP8k/s72-c/DSCN2082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8479245131572606641</id><published>2009-03-28T17:24:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T20:45:50.052-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Do</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc7fYS21qxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/-h57ZZwd1Q4/s1600-h/IMG_0520.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc7fYS21qxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/-h57ZZwd1Q4/s320/IMG_0520.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318433818442836754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc7fX_48NFI/AAAAAAAAAVI/4ev8gZSfMXU/s1600-h/IMG_0509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc7fX_48NFI/AAAAAAAAAVI/4ev8gZSfMXU/s320/IMG_0509.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318433813351380050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy didn't get a new do, I did.  But, look at all that blond hair!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc7c4ixaZ-I/AAAAAAAAAVA/haMlL_CEfhg/s1600-h/DSCN2078_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc7c4ixaZ-I/AAAAAAAAAVA/haMlL_CEfhg/s320/DSCN2078_2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318431073935976418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always been in a love/hate relationship with my hair.  I want it long, I want it short, I want thinner, then thick...black, then blond.  I am very liberal with my hairstyles.  Every time I grow it long, it.  gets really thick and looks more "froish" and it ends up in a ponytail every single day.  When I do take the time to fix it, it always seems to be humid outside and there goes the "do".  Or, by the time I end up fixing it, I'm sweating so much from the hair dryer, curling iron, straitening iron...I just want to say lots and lots of bad words and yell. and I'm so hot that my "do" is now melting from sweat.  So, once I get tired of having long hair, I get it all chopped off.  I usually am really happy with it at first because I feel like short is my "signature" cut...but, then I get bored with having to fix it the same way everyday.  everyday.  everyday.  so goes the cycle.  and this cycle of love/hate has lots of hormones mixed in.  So I'm thinking of shaving my head or going very short and hot pink.  I'll change my mind by the time I can get an appointment though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8479245131572606641?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8479245131572606641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8479245131572606641' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8479245131572606641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8479245131572606641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-do.html' title='New Do'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc7fYS21qxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/-h57ZZwd1Q4/s72-c/IMG_0520.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2315529714576636837</id><published>2009-03-24T20:10:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T17:35:10.419-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Date</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc6leh6hEWI/AAAAAAAAAUo/6HRMRGy98ns/s1600-h/DSCN2066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc6leh6hEWI/AAAAAAAAAUo/6HRMRGy98ns/s320/DSCN2066.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318370153889599842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John and I went on a day date today.  We rarely get to be alone without Quincy and when we do we are sleeping.  We've been trying to get a night out but for whatever reason it just hasn't worked out.  Today John had his office covered in the afternoon and I left work at 1:30.  We met for a movie and had a very early dinner.  It was very nice to know that Quincy was well taken care of, at daycare, and we just enjoyed ourselves.  I actually feel asleep during the movie but it was just a short cat nap:)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner was the downpour of the century.  We were soaked and went to pick up the little man.  I like it when we get the chance to go together to pick up Q.  He looks up and sees one of us and smiles and then gets super happy when he spots both of us there.  We got more wet but finally made it home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy had carrots tonight for dinner.  He has had carrots before and did fine.  Tonight it must have not been what he wanted and he proceeded to tell us after every bite.  He either spewed it back to us and he was "talking" or made an incredible taste to convey his thoughts on carrots for dinner.  We were laughing so hard.  We've been feeding him in his bumbo chair because it is easier, but I think that the time for the highchair has arrived.  It has a 5-point harness and room for messiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Quincy didn't get enough of the rain and proceeded to splash and splash in the tub.  He gets really wild in the water.  I don't know how his heels and hands don't get bruised as rowdy as he gets.  On the changing table he kicked the powder out of my hands.  He is really starting to act like a boy and a boy with a very expressive personality.  Below are some pictures of the faces that he made while eating carrots tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc6lfdQKpjI/AAAAAAAAAU4/gJAJ8qA3_R0/s1600-h/IMG_0156.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc6lfdQKpjI/AAAAAAAAAU4/gJAJ8qA3_R0/s320/IMG_0156.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318370169818097202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd rather eat a sock"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc6lfcNErVI/AAAAAAAAAUw/PzkxQxUXYMw/s1600-h/DSCN2074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc6lfcNErVI/AAAAAAAAAUw/PzkxQxUXYMw/s320/DSCN2074.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318370169536687442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2315529714576636837?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2315529714576636837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2315529714576636837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2315529714576636837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2315529714576636837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/03/day-date.html' title='Day Date'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/Sc6leh6hEWI/AAAAAAAAAUo/6HRMRGy98ns/s72-c/DSCN2066.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-9018734369835617125</id><published>2009-03-19T21:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T14:24:43.979-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SIX Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMSt6aC7mI/AAAAAAAAAT4/xzOCZ2Oq2Lk/s1600-h/DSCN2062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMSt6aC7mI/AAAAAAAAAT4/xzOCZ2Oq2Lk/s320/DSCN2062.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315112565209230946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMStPu1jYI/AAAAAAAAATw/AqTTT2jz_9c/s1600-h/DSCN2058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMStPu1jYI/AAAAAAAAATw/AqTTT2jz_9c/s320/DSCN2058.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315112553753709954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMQqtxUZQI/AAAAAAAAATo/kSK_7oODFUE/s1600-h/DSCN2054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMQqtxUZQI/AAAAAAAAATo/kSK_7oODFUE/s320/DSCN2054.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315110311254320386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no.  Can time please slow down???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy is six months old.  Six months.  That is half a year!  He is really not acting like a baby much anymore.  He is interested in everything and wants to touch it all, and taste it as well.  It is hard to get a picture of him because he moves so much that I can't capture the quick movements.  Most of the time my pictures end up with a blur of hands or feet, often the hands in front of the face.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At our six month checkup we discovered Quincy has an ear infection.  We also discovered that he had lost a little bit of weight.  Not much.  When we went in a week before for the eye infection he weighed 15.8 lbs and one week later he weighed exactly 15.0 lbs.  Last week Q had clothes on and this week they weighed him in just his diaper.  He did have the stomach virus though, so it is very likely that he did lose a little weight.  We are going to keep a close eye on this.  For his stats:  15.0 lbs, which puts him in the 10th percentile.  For height, he is 26 inches and in the 45th percentile.  Except for the minor weight loss, which I think was totally due to the stomach virus, Q is following the upward curve for growth.  He is small but he is growing consistently, which is what the doctors look for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately he has been Tarzan.  He literally balls his little hands into tight fists and pounds his chest.  All the while his feet are kicking like a little froggie.  He has grabbed both Jack and Bella's back legs and held on.  Both dogs looked at me like, "what is going on?" but were very well behaved and waited patiently until Q let them go.  Last night Quincy grabbed Jacks whiskers and hair.  Jack stood very still until Q let go.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He can almost sit up by himself but not yet.  When he is on his tummy, he waves and kicks and scooches forward some.  I know that scooch is not a word.  But you understand, right?  Thought so.  He splashes so much in the bathtub, I can tell that he is going to love swimming.  He is also really interested in television.  Bright and movement I guess...or his fathers genes.  He likes to watch Baby Einstein videos and John insists that he is close to saying "ma".  He does just love to "talk" loudly at times.  Sometimes he is in his car seat, all back there alone, talking away.  Sometimes he speaks directly to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMYNruBkbI/AAAAAAAAAUg/wJlAtjdp76A/s1600-h/Quincy+Cole++March+6-7,+2009+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMYNruBkbI/AAAAAAAAAUg/wJlAtjdp76A/s320/Quincy+Cole++March+6-7,+2009+024.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315118608580448690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMYNUQNCrI/AAAAAAAAAUY/xo5o09zZLU8/s1600-h/Quincy+Cole++March+6-7,+2009+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMYNUQNCrI/AAAAAAAAAUY/xo5o09zZLU8/s320/Quincy+Cole++March+6-7,+2009+023.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315118602281355954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you probably know Quincy has had RSV.  This past week alone he got an eye infection, stomach virus, and ear infection.  And he still didn't complain...at least for a guy, he didn't act like he was dying.  We had a couple of hard days but I think that we are doing much better.  One little problem has emerged though:  separation anxiety.  This started last week.  When he was so sick with the stomach virus, he just wanted to be held.  We wanted to hold him, anything that would make him feel better.  Now that he is feeling better, he still wants to be held all the time.  He will scream at the top of his lungs and the second that you put your hands on him, he stops and smiles.  Hands off:  screaming....hands on:  silence.  This has been a struggle for us because we don't' want to spoil him, however we want him to know that we will always be there for him.  The following pictures are of us while he was sick.  Even though it was hard for us to see Quincy sick, it was a sweet sweet time.  It forced us to stop everything and hold Quincy.  What is better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMQqYBbNgI/AAAAAAAAATg/52vnmrAOiFg/s1600-h/DSCN2038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMQqYBbNgI/AAAAAAAAATg/52vnmrAOiFg/s320/DSCN2038.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315110305416295938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMQp1iWfhI/AAAAAAAAATY/gRvJY3fnO8w/s1600-h/DSCN2037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMQp1iWfhI/AAAAAAAAATY/gRvJY3fnO8w/s320/DSCN2037.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315110296159157778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMQpm17bWI/AAAAAAAAATQ/1dOA8QrKHRo/s1600-h/DSCN2028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMQpm17bWI/AAAAAAAAATQ/1dOA8QrKHRo/s320/DSCN2028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315110292214738274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMSuyMMzsI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/N9aA88LYWeY/s1600-h/IMG_0544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMSuyMMzsI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/N9aA88LYWeY/s320/IMG_0544.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315112580183543490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy isn't a big fan of naps.  He likes cat naps, but not real naps.  John and I both remember not liking to take naps when we were little.  I was really insistent that Quincy would get enough sleep because we've both seen over and over with other kids that get enough sleep are much happier children.  I got Q from daycare at 3 today.  I dropped him off at 8am and he had taken no naps between 8 and 3.  He had just had a bottle so I was thinking, ah, nap time.  Think again.  He would not go to sleep.  So I finally gave in after trying everything that I knew to do...and he was as happy as a lark from about 4:30 until he went to bed at 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMSud6le9I/AAAAAAAAAUI/qf9GalTnJOc/s1600-h/IMG_0121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMSud6le9I/AAAAAAAAAUI/qf9GalTnJOc/s320/IMG_0121.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315112574740954066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMSuOITnbI/AAAAAAAAAUA/4TeX5VjjQo0/s1600-h/IMG_0118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMSuOITnbI/AAAAAAAAAUA/4TeX5VjjQo0/s320/IMG_0118.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315112570503536050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we've made it half a year...I think that this means we are probably all going to survive!  Love to all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-9018734369835617125?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/9018734369835617125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=9018734369835617125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9018734369835617125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9018734369835617125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/03/six-months.html' title='SIX Months'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ScMSt6aC7mI/AAAAAAAAAT4/xzOCZ2Oq2Lk/s72-c/DSCN2062.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-22831393025691789</id><published>2009-03-15T15:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T16:32:46.149-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bad Day--Part II</title><content type='html'>After reading our book from our pediatrician that virtually tells you what to do in every situation, we decided to get Pedialyte for Quincy.  I ran to Kroger's and decided that I would go ahead and buy some groceries since we had no bread, milk, cokes, coffee creamer, Hershey's chocolate syrup, you know, the basics.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pedialyte was high.  It was like $7 or something.  There was a "new price" under it stating that if you bought 2, you would get $2 off.  I'm the person that always falls for the 10 for $10 when you can get 2 for that same low price.  Anyway, I rationalize that Q will probably need 2 bottles of Pedialyte and if not, we can save one because I know that he will get the stomach bug more than once.  We are trying very hard to keep ourselves on a budget so I was conscientious of how much I was spending, Pedialyte coupon included.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the checkout, I had gone $1.08 over what we had budgeted.  I was really excited but when I looked at my receipt I saw that I did not get my $2 off.  I was determined to get that $2.  Only because that is what made me go over budget!  So I ask the bagger about my discount coupon.  This guy is gigantic.  And slow.  He takes a red marker out of his Kroger vest and snottily marks every "discount" that I received.  I attempt to make my point once again with him...I did not get my $2 off.  Like I said, he was slow.  He pointed to the customer service desk.  I explained my situation and she calls for a price check.  Guess who waddles in slow motion towards the counter?  Bagger.  I normally would NEVER go through this much trouble for $2 but it is just one of those things, I see myself getting old and doing things that I swore I would never do.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he slowly returns, he has every tag posted near the Pedialyte in his hands.  At least he knew that he didn't want to go back  twice, so he brought them all.  The customer service lady determines that the coupon prints at the register and it is to use the NEXT time I buy Pedialyte.  So mr. bagger bumbles to the checkout line that I was in and grabs the coupons that printed out.  We were probably only 10 feet from where I had checked out, but instead of walking back, he decides to yell.  So, I hear, "the only coupons that printed out for her were Kotex and Lean Cuisine".  I'm dying here.  I have really passed points of embarassment after having a baby, but now I was just getting mad.  You actually have to purchase those items or similar types of items for a coupon to print out.  I shake my head "no" as in, "those aren't mine".  He bumbles back over and assesses my groceries--that he bagged and says, "oh yeah, this ain't hers" referring to me and my coupons.  Finally the customer service lady punches some buttons on her register, the drawer pops open and she hands me 2 $1 bills.  We both sigh relief and I'm on my way out--with my Pedialyte, under budget, and $2 in my pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was still a bad day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-22831393025691789?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/22831393025691789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=22831393025691789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/22831393025691789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/22831393025691789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-bad-day-part-ii.html' title='My Bad Day--Part II'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-9025974837050476244</id><published>2009-03-13T23:11:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T21:38:27.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bad Day--Part I</title><content type='html'>Friday the 13th and a full moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not superstitious or anything but working on a psychiatric ward, I can tell you that there is something about a full moon.  Work has been more than crazy this week.  I was looking forward to working my 4 hours on Friday and jetting out of that place.  If only things went as we planned, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John gets Quincy ready for daycare in the mornings and I drop him off.  This usually works well for us.  Today Quincy was all bundled up like a burrito inside his car seat with only his little blue eyes sticking out.  John puts him in the car for me--I can't carry the seat with Q in it, and off we go.  I have a mirror facing Quincy's car seat so that I can see him out of my rear view mirror.  We were about 4 blocks away and I heard him coughing and looked in the mirror to see the cough produce projectile vomit..... followed by a few more coughs and several more projectile vomits.  I pulled over expecting him to be crying and really upset.  He was practically floating in vomit, and even worse, he was trapped in by his car seat.  I got out wet wipes and soon realized that wet wipes were not going to suffice.  What to do?  I literally stood on the side of the road (8am traffic) and almost cried.  I felt horrible, I've had a terrible cold for about 3 weeks and was absolutely exhausted.  I just wanted to get to work and get it over with so I could start the weekend and just rest.  So I'm standing there thinking, "I should just turn around and go home now...Quincy has just vomited up his entire bottle, I feel horrible".  But, on the other hand, I'm 4 blocks from the preschool, 5 blocks from work.  I've gotten up early and gotten ready and I'm just SO close to the finishing the week out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning:  If your name is Margaret Srygley or you work in the daycare setting, Baptist in particular, please skip the following paragraph:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get back in the car and drive to the daycare.  Once there, I leave the car running and hop in the backseat with Q.  I unbuckle him from swimming in formula vomit and take his clothes off.  I use an entire container of wet wipes to attempt to clean the child and redress him.  I take him into school with one less "extra" outfit in his bag and hope they don't notice that he smells like vomit.  I'm feeling really bad about doing this to him...but he seems fine and happy, and it will only be 4 hours until I can get him myself.  Plus, if he vomits at daycare or has 2 loose stools, they call for me to come and get him, so I know that if it gets bad I'll be coming back to get him anyway.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to work and I'm not sure why, but I start feeling worse.  I just want to go home.  4 hours, I think, I can do this.  At 9:00, I ask to go so I can get in and see the doctor.  So I spend practically all morning in the doctors office.  Bad sinus infection and a cold, neither of which I've been able to shake for about the past 3 weeks.  I go by the pharmacy to get my meds and then go home to get in the bed, all the while waiting on the daycare to call.  I got to sleep all afternoon and felt better when I woke up.  I felt guilty for leaving Q there all day, but I knew that if he was at home, I would be getting no rest at all.  And he must be fine or they would have called, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to get him around 5:00 and the worker tells me that he has had 2 "loose stools" and 2 diarrhea diapers.  He was wearing ONLY a button up shirt, nothing on underneath, and a diaper.  Apparently he had gone through all the clothes in his bag.  I was embarrassed to not have had more clothes in his bag (we are required to have 2 changes and I actually had 3, but used one myself before taking him inside) and it was freezing outside.  I just wanted to get out of there, get him home, put some clean fresh clothes on him.  While I'm gathering his things, there is another mom getting her child.  Of course she is dressed perfectly, perfect makeup, and puts her precious little girl in her car seat, careful to tuck her in with a big pink fuzzy warm blanket.  I want to run the other way.  She looks at me and asks if I want to borrow a blanket.  I told her "no, but thank you very much" and sort of ran.  I had a zip up hoodie on, so I stuck Quincy inside and zipped him in with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it hit me on the way home that she had said he had basically 4 diarrhea diapers.  Why didn't they call me?  I looked at his sheet for the day and see that he even refused one of his bottles.  Then I suddenly remember the night before when I was dressing him for bed he had a huge "spit up".  I realize now that this was vomit.  Once at home, I take his temp, which is 100.1 and decide to give him a bath.  He isn't fussy, but not his usual smiley self either.  During his bath I could tell that he was getting cold so I got him out quickly and just held him.  He just snuggled with me.  Didn't make the guilt go away though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-9025974837050476244?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/9025974837050476244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=9025974837050476244' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9025974837050476244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9025974837050476244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-bad-day-part-i.html' title='My Bad Day--Part I'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4835093265372821855</id><published>2009-03-09T21:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T22:39:42.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brown Eyes, Blue Eyes, Green Eyes, Pink Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SbXgs1hOd4I/AAAAAAAAATA/fn258BXi3z4/s1600-h/DSCN2003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 389px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SbXgs1hOd4I/AAAAAAAAATA/fn258BXi3z4/s400/DSCN2003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311398396438673282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yep, we think that we got pink eye.  eyes.  Yesterday when Quincy woke up from his afternoon nap he had "matter" (which to me looked like snot and dried up snot) in, on, around his eyes.  I didn't think much of it because the whites of his eyes were all clear.  I read about pink eye when I got home and decided that it was probably not pink eye but that I needed to call the doctor office anyway because it was probably an infection and he would need treatment.  They wanted us to come in.  The diagnosis is:  don't know.  Really.  They said it could be from a cold or ear infection.  He does have a cold, but not an ear infection.  So then we were down to cold or infection.  So, we got eye drops.  Expensive eye drops, to treat an infection.  I don't know if this will cover all infections, including pink eye.  The doctors are sometimes so fast and I don't think of questions until after I leave.  Then tonight John noticed some PINK in Quincy's eye.  So, I don't know if we have pink eye, I'm sure that we will know soon enough.  Poor guy has so many uncontrollable bodily secretions (on his face alone).  Mucus from the eye, mucus from the nose, tears, lots and lots of slobber!  And sometimes up and out comes formula!  So, we are doing lots of laundry around here and washing our hands, and cuddling.  That is the sweetest thing.  And I also decided that Quincy being sick made me sit and just look at him, appreciate him, reflect on how special he is to me.  We sat for the longest time tonight just looking at each other.  I was holding him and he was restless from not feeling well.  You just can't look into the eyes of your child and not thank God for his grace and mercy and love.  Thank you God.  I'm blessed beyond measure, more than I can ever deserve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4835093265372821855?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4835093265372821855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4835093265372821855' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4835093265372821855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4835093265372821855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/03/brown-eyes.html' title='Brown Eyes, Blue Eyes, Green Eyes, Pink Eyes'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SbXgs1hOd4I/AAAAAAAAATA/fn258BXi3z4/s72-c/DSCN2003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-5462385521925182973</id><published>2009-03-07T23:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T21:02:41.182-05:00</updated><title type='text'>peas &amp; carrots</title><content type='html'>This weekend we are in Texas visiting John's family.  I love coming here for many reasons.  Many times we never get out of our pj's!  Also, their house is like grand central station, so we see everyone without having to leave the house, they all come to us!  I also like to come and sort of have a break from home.  A break from cleaning and laundry and dinner preparation.  A good reason to get out of town.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marsha wanted to take me to a children's boutique called peas &amp; carrots.  It is very similar to Cupcakes and Caterpillars in Little Rock.  We ooohhhed and aaahhhed for about an hour.  It was so fun.  I've always imagined Q in a little smocked outfit...so, we'll see if the pictures will show the cuteness.  She also got him his "first easter" outfit...it has a little bunny tail on the back.  And, for shoes, he will wear John's old white ones from when he was a baby.  I love to use things from the family like that, it gives so much meaning.  We had to work on several outfits...one for easter and one for Q's dedication day at church.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for the Easter pictures!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-5462385521925182973?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/5462385521925182973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=5462385521925182973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5462385521925182973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5462385521925182973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/03/peas-carrots.html' title='peas &amp; carrots'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-371000493848556160</id><published>2009-03-04T20:41:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T21:22:33.311-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Grins &amp; Giggles</title><content type='html'>This is the name of a baby toothpaste that I saw awhile ago and can't get it out of my head.  This is all that Q seems to be doing lately, grinning and giggling.  Well, and teething.  He is such a happy camper though.  John asked me a few minutes ago, "why haven't you blogged?"... and I was like, well, nothing has really happened.  We are in a set schedule, which I really like, but doesn't allow for much "excitement".  I mean, you know, excitement that anyone else would want to read about.  We spend alot of time as a family--John, Quincy, Jack, Bella, and myself.  Loving it so very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll tell you what is on my mind.  Tethered spinal cords.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I have an MRI appointment for my back and neck.  I think that most of you know that I have a congenital spinal cord abnormality.  I was very thankful to make it through pregnancy without extreme pain.  Well, now that Quincy is heavier and more mobile I've been having lots of back pain again.  I think that between now and the time that he walks, I will get worse.  I hope that I'm wrong.  But he will get heavier and until he can walk, the strain of carrying him will worsen.  I've been sort of indecisive on whether to get an MRI or not.  I'm afraid to know what is wrong, but in too much pain to not do anything about it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My spinal cord could have re-tethered but I have decided to not do surgery again.  I think that this is what has happened.  Regardless, please pray for my situation.  I won't see the doctor until Monday.  I try not to talk about my back too much...I don't want to be defined by it or limited by it.  But, that is what is on my mind today.  Thank you for your prayers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-371000493848556160?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/371000493848556160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=371000493848556160' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/371000493848556160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/371000493848556160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/03/grins-giggles.html' title='Grins &amp; Giggles'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-9096799559554255372</id><published>2009-02-23T17:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T18:00:33.655-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday TEX!</title><content type='html'>We don't have any current pictures with Aunt Tex because we haven't seen her...but hopefully that will change soon!  Q "sang" happy birthday to his Tex over the phone.  It was more whining and I assurred her that his dad will teach him to do a better job by next year!  We love you Chris!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-9096799559554255372?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/9096799559554255372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=9096799559554255372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9096799559554255372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9096799559554255372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-birthday-tex.html' title='Happy Birthday TEX!'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8511557266860307850</id><published>2009-02-14T20:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T17:56:26.406-06:00</updated><title type='text'>FIVE Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaMzbyBQk8I/AAAAAAAAASI/elo4Dk33b0o/s1600-h/DSCN1925.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaMzbyBQk8I/AAAAAAAAASI/elo4Dk33b0o/s320/DSCN1925.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306141338349114306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How fitting that on Valentine's Day, Q turns 5 months old.  So cliche, I know, but, "I can't believe that he is already five months".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard for me to remember what we've "accomplished" since last month.  We started rice cereal and then veggies.  He has done great with both.  So far we given him green beans, squash, sweet potatoes, and peas.  He likes all of them.  He dives for the food.  Before I can get the spoon to his mouth he is diving towards me with mouth wide open!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He weighs 15lbs!  Unbelievable!  He is wearing some 12 month clothes.  We are totally done with most 3-6 month items and the 9 month clothes seem to be fitting the best right now.  Tex, his aunt, has sent him so many clothes that we've only worn each item about once!  I can't wait until he can see her again.  She sent him this little striped button up and the sleeves were rolled up, very preppy.  Some of the pictures below he is wearing it.  The onsie underneath, from GiGi, says, "Boys:  Noise with dirt on it".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaM0_AOxsYI/AAAAAAAAASY/zVS5OoRg-Ns/s1600-h/IMG_0456.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaM0_AOxsYI/AAAAAAAAASY/zVS5OoRg-Ns/s320/IMG_0456.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306143042970956162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a very good baby.  He hardly ever cries.  And, he hardly ever takes a nap!  But we are working on that.  He is sleeping through most nights.  That means to us that we don't have to get up with him for hours at a time throughout the night.  We may have to get up and give him his pacifier or pat him on the back, but we don't pick him up or feed him.  We are really glad about this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaMzaoRTYjI/AAAAAAAAAR4/zcOHNdbZXZk/s1600-h/DSCN1891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaMzaoRTYjI/AAAAAAAAAR4/zcOHNdbZXZk/s320/DSCN1891.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306141318552183346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likes to watch TV, especially commercials where it is just one person, mostly focused on his face.  The other day I was holding him, talking, and he looked away from me at the TV and got the biggest grin ever on his face.  I looked up to see Hallie Berry doing a lipstick commercial, smiling really big.  I laughed.  Q likes the pretty ones.  He was also pretty enamored with Sarah Palin.  In those days she was the most beautiful thing on TV, we were so tired of looking at wrinkly old men with sour attitudes.  Even though her voice could be annoying, she was pretty.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaMzcafMWbI/AAAAAAAAASQ/5sgYbQ5mPaQ/s1600-h/DSCN1940.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaMzcafMWbI/AAAAAAAAASQ/5sgYbQ5mPaQ/s320/DSCN1940.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306141349212084658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy is getting tuned in to what is going on around him more so than before.  He notices the dogs...they both run by him in a flash, he can hardly keep up.  Jack will run up to him and give him a wet willie and then run off.  Bella just hops around him.  Both dogs have eaten their share of baby food.  Many times after we feed Quincy we forget to put the food left up and the dogs jump on the coffee table and lick it clean.  So last night we put him in his high chair for the first time.  He didn't like it too much.  We'll try that again in a few days I guess. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaMzbPi7yuI/AAAAAAAAASA/tdJXPBGrfU0/s1600-h/DSCN1913.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaMzbPi7yuI/AAAAAAAAASA/tdJXPBGrfU0/s320/DSCN1913.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306141329095117538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John has decided to go ahead and train Q to take over the Allstate business.  Never too early, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaM0_cpJ1CI/AAAAAAAAASo/bGKb-Y1utts/s1600-h/IMG_0492.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaM0_cpJ1CI/AAAAAAAAASo/bGKb-Y1utts/s320/IMG_0492.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306143050597782562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q is more interested in slobbering on every sheet of paper on dad's desk though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaM0_NCKtfI/AAAAAAAAASg/WIImbkwsyO8/s1600-h/IMG_0498.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaM0_NCKtfI/AAAAAAAAASg/WIImbkwsyO8/s320/IMG_0498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306143046407730674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8511557266860307850?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8511557266860307850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8511557266860307850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8511557266860307850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8511557266860307850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/02/five-months.html' title='FIVE Months'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SaMzbyBQk8I/AAAAAAAAASI/elo4Dk33b0o/s72-c/DSCN1925.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-5348525623394669473</id><published>2009-02-13T00:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T00:01:01.007-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you Grandmother</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZTcteJ5R2I/AAAAAAAAARo/V14hndTDwqY/s1600-h/IMG_0086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZTcteJ5R2I/AAAAAAAAARo/V14hndTDwqY/s320/IMG_0086.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302105335068706658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We haven't decided what Q will call my mom, but she refers to herself as grandmother.  She says grandma sounds "too old".  Grandmother sounds older to me, but whatever.  She called her mom "mother", so it makes sense.  Anyway, she came into town on Sunday for us to have a joint birthday lunch (I'm 2/1 and she is 2/12).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch we ran some errands and she bought Q an exersaucer.  I think it is actually called a musical jumper.  He really likes it and I think that it will help make his legs strong for walking and give him some entertainment besides looking at our silly faces over and over again.  He uses one at daycare and I can tell that it does make his legs stronger.  He kicks so hard and has almost kicked himself off the changing table.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't blogged in awhile because it just seems like we are suck in a cycle of staying on Quincy's schedule and just keeping up with life.  We are loving it, but it is an adjustment from not having a child.  Even still after some sleepless nights, I get excited about looking at his sweet little face every morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-5348525623394669473?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/5348525623394669473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=5348525623394669473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5348525623394669473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5348525623394669473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/02/thank-you-grandmother.html' title='Thank you Grandmother'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZTcteJ5R2I/AAAAAAAAARo/V14hndTDwqY/s72-c/IMG_0086.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3129302638260348825</id><published>2009-02-12T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T20:30:41.367-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Grandmother!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZOJVf3h2rI/AAAAAAAAARg/OETeZ5xgkSY/s1600-h/DSCN0150_0004_004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZOJVf3h2rI/AAAAAAAAARg/OETeZ5xgkSY/s320/DSCN0150_0004_004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301732188769868466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZOHjRE9KSI/AAAAAAAAARY/XSiFA1t-MV8/s1600-h/DSCN1662.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZOHjRE9KSI/AAAAAAAAARY/XSiFA1t-MV8/s320/DSCN1662.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301730226294565154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZOHjA_QjVI/AAAAAAAAARQ/2fH4O3o8R-s/s1600-h/DSCN1659.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZOHjA_QjVI/AAAAAAAAARQ/2fH4O3o8R-s/s320/DSCN1659.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301730221975702866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3129302638260348825?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3129302638260348825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3129302638260348825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3129302638260348825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3129302638260348825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-birthday-grandmother.html' title='Happy Birthday Grandmother!'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SZOJVf3h2rI/AAAAAAAAARg/OETeZ5xgkSY/s72-c/DSCN0150_0004_004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-254311109459274735</id><published>2009-01-31T13:33:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T13:53:02.150-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mean Green Beans</title><content type='html'>After a week of successfully eating rice cereal in his bottle, Q was ready to move on.  We tried rice cereal with a spoon and he did okay, but clearly didn't like it.  I tasted the stuff and decided there would be no motivation for me to learn to eat with a spoon if I was getting mush.  So we continued with the cereal in with the formula and decided to start veggies today.  The pedeatrician reccommened starting veggies about a week after the cereal.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today we fed Q some green beans.  He doesn't have the tongue/swallow skill down yet, but I did not get the look of "you crazy woman" that I did with rice cereal and spoon!  We thought that if there were something tasty on the spoon, it might help.  And I think that it did.  He hasn't spit any up yet or projectile vomited, so we are hoping it will be successful.  He did have a HUGE poo afterwards that was actually the color and texture of what was put in his mouth about 20 mins earlier.  I really don't think it was anything but coinscidence.  He has blowouts often, but we usually smell them and can get him cleaned up before things get too bad.  Well, today he was sitting in the bumbo, happy as a lark.  We were about to leave so I went to get him to put him in the car seat, and that is when I saw it...poo coming out of his pants, all on his socks...in the bumbo, overflowing onto the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q got a midday bath and it took me about 45 mins to soak his clothes, clean up the changing table, scrub down the couch and bumbo, throw away the onsie that he had on under his outfit, start the laundry with the remaining poo stained items, and change my shirt, also covered in poo.  I don't think that the mean green beans were the cause of the blowout, but time will tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-254311109459274735?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/254311109459274735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=254311109459274735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/254311109459274735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/254311109459274735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/01/mean-green-beans-shrit.html' title='Mean Green Beans'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-7104494426072592943</id><published>2009-01-31T00:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T00:59:21.944-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Addiction</title><content type='html'>I'm addicted to facebook.  It is almost worse than chocolate.  I have my husband to blame for this.  He kept urging me to join and I wouldn't.  Now that I have, I'm addicted.  I'm hoping that the newness will fade soon and I'll rethink taking those precious few hours of reading what everyone in the world is up to, and get some sense about me and GO TO BED!  It is 1am and I'm catching up on people that I haven't heard from in over 10 years.  More on this later, I think that I will go to bed now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-7104494426072592943?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/7104494426072592943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=7104494426072592943' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7104494426072592943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7104494426072592943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/01/addiction.html' title='Addiction'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-7577523718169691297</id><published>2009-01-28T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T00:01:01.097-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday GiGi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX_ETrtcY1I/AAAAAAAAARA/abRUnoGvoFg/s1600-h/DSCN0299.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX_ETrtcY1I/AAAAAAAAARA/abRUnoGvoFg/s320/DSCN0299.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296167529240879954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX_ETdsqQKI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/WokpKbdnJgA/s1600-h/DSCN0298.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX_ETdsqQKI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/WokpKbdnJgA/s320/DSCN0298.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296167525479497890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX_ETM153TI/AAAAAAAAAQw/iLnrzWSA5Fw/s1600-h/100_0476.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX_ETM153TI/AAAAAAAAAQw/iLnrzWSA5Fw/s320/100_0476.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296167520954866994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-7577523718169691297?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/7577523718169691297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=7577523718169691297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7577523718169691297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7577523718169691297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-birthday-gigi.html' title='Happy Birthday GiGi'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX_ETrtcY1I/AAAAAAAAARA/abRUnoGvoFg/s72-c/DSCN0299.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2313449763051324156</id><published>2009-01-27T19:49:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T20:03:55.718-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged</title><content type='html'>After I was tagged by Jill, I got lost in looking at pictures in my 6th folder.  That folder is titled, "Quincy Barry's CD".  Barry is John's dad as well as the family photographer.  He takes great pictures and very often captures the moment so very perfectly that no words are needed.  These were the pictures from Barry's camera on the day that Quincy was born.  The "tagged" instructions were 6th folder, 6th picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7SZt_42I/AAAAAAAAAQI/0W5P-EQ2wvw/s1600-h/DSCN0148_0002_002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7SZt_42I/AAAAAAAAAQI/0W5P-EQ2wvw/s320/DSCN0148_0002_002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296157611626849122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classic.  Timeless.&lt;br /&gt;Our mothers "rushing" us....while we were delivering our baby....they were dying to get in and resorted to the play area to keep themselves occupied!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7Si3vDYI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Xls95rij3ic/s1600-h/DSCN0147_0001_001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7Si3vDYI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Xls95rij3ic/s320/DSCN0147_0001_001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296157614083607938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Barry, how did you ever manage those two?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In waiting for something so precious, I guess most anything is possible.  Here is what they were waiting on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7TXYDV4I/AAAAAAAAAQo/KZBWumZXUFc/s1600-h/DSCN0201_0059_059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7TXYDV4I/AAAAAAAAAQo/KZBWumZXUFc/s320/DSCN0201_0059_059.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296157628177799042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7Taja3tI/AAAAAAAAAQg/1kvwsMFQ-CA/s1600-h/DSCN0181_0039_039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7Taja3tI/AAAAAAAAAQg/1kvwsMFQ-CA/s320/DSCN0181_0039_039.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296157629030784722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7S-_LvJI/AAAAAAAAAQY/ynQ_SoFu14o/s1600-h/DSCN0177_0035_035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7S-_LvJI/AAAAAAAAAQY/ynQ_SoFu14o/s320/DSCN0177_0035_035.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296157621631040658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So those are a few pictures from my 6th folder.  What a folder.  I just spent about an hour reminisicing about that day.  What a sweet sweet day.  It seems the days are getting sweeter in my life.  I am so grateful to God and to my family, I love you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2313449763051324156?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2313449763051324156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2313449763051324156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2313449763051324156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2313449763051324156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/01/tagged.html' title='Tagged'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SX-7SZt_42I/AAAAAAAAAQI/0W5P-EQ2wvw/s72-c/DSCN0148_0002_002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-6146255505753753758</id><published>2009-01-18T21:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T21:18:03.014-06:00</updated><title type='text'>FOUR Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPo8afauRI/AAAAAAAAAOA/J5Db3iiFiEg/s1600-h/DSCN1837.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPo8afauRI/AAAAAAAAAOA/J5Db3iiFiEg/s320/DSCN1837.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292830111691356434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy will be leaving for college soon.  On Wednesday he turned 4 months old and Friday we had our 4 month well visit.  The stats are:&lt;br /&gt;weight:  13lbs 2 oz which is in the 10-25% percentile&lt;br /&gt;height:  24 3/4 in which is in the 50% percentile&lt;br /&gt;We are starting to think that this might actually be our kid.  I mean, when you have an average size baby and average weight, blue eyes, and strawberry blond hair born to two tall parents with dark eyes and dark hair...kind of makes you wonder.  His length is making us feel better each month!  Plus, he is so good...where did that come from?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPqwRiX8JI/AAAAAAAAAOg/urDzWwsPpAk/s1600-h/DSCN1772.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPqwRiX8JI/AAAAAAAAAOg/urDzWwsPpAk/s320/DSCN1772.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292832102152663186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPsStZwUTI/AAAAAAAAAOw/eqXcmc_jQK0/s1600-h/DSCN1780.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPsStZwUTI/AAAAAAAAAOw/eqXcmc_jQK0/s320/DSCN1780.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292833793259884850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pediatrician told us that we can start rice cereal anytime now and then follow a week after that with veggies.  We were both a little surprised at starting so early.  I'm not sure if it is because he needs more calories or what.  I gave him 3 small spoonfuls of cereal yesterday and he did great, aside from the great faces that he gave me.  I can't believe that it is time, or almost time, to start buying baby food.  She said that he looks great.  He is still a bit congested but she said that his lungs sounded good.  I think that she was surprised by how much he interacted with her and she kept getting sidetracked by his smile.  He got 4 shots and did really well.  He did scream, but not for long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is getting so much fun to watch his personality develop.  He is a pretty good little dude until he is hungry or tired.  Then you don't want to cross him.  He is really interested in everything, and thinks that his fists taste really good.  He can pretty much fit both hands in his mouth--at once.  Sometimes he will reach for my hand or fingers and shove them in his mouth as well.  He talks when he has something to say, and you had better be listening, impossible to get a word in when he has something on his mind.  He still loves bath time and his pacifier.  He has the biggest grin ever and he hardly smiles without opening his mouth wide like he just can't stand it because he is so happy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPsUXZgU-I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/u3eA_ZmYozU/s1600-h/DSCN1821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPsUXZgU-I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/u3eA_ZmYozU/s320/DSCN1821.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292833821712995298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPsT8K_U6I/AAAAAAAAAPI/LbvenHyafMU/s1600-h/DSCN1814.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPsT8K_U6I/AAAAAAAAAPI/LbvenHyafMU/s320/DSCN1814.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292833814404354978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPsTTioWAI/AAAAAAAAAO4/ydZ-bS-HDvk/s1600-h/DSCN1832.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPsTTioWAI/AAAAAAAAAO4/ydZ-bS-HDvk/s320/DSCN1832.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292833803497658370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loves for John to beat box to him and likes for us to sing to him.  He is fascinated with the television and stops almost anything when John makes funny noises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has made it through three wedding ceremonies AND receptions with no whining or crying at all.  How is that for a good kid?  Here are some pics from a wedding this weekend.  This is one of Q's "aunts", Stacy.  I was with Stacy when I found out that I was pregnant almost one year ago to the day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPqv9qtVAI/AAAAAAAAAOY/NQFNjJMe9fA/s1600-h/DSCN1769.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPqv9qtVAI/AAAAAAAAAOY/NQFNjJMe9fA/s320/DSCN1769.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292832096818910210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPqva483FI/AAAAAAAAAOI/pt-pVXFIpt0/s1600-h/DSCN1763.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPqva483FI/AAAAAAAAAOI/pt-pVXFIpt0/s320/DSCN1763.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292832087483407442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-6146255505753753758?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/6146255505753753758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=6146255505753753758' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6146255505753753758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6146255505753753758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/01/four-months.html' title='FOUR Months'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SXPo8afauRI/AAAAAAAAAOA/J5Db3iiFiEg/s72-c/DSCN1837.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8597042924399540612</id><published>2009-01-13T14:08:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T14:47:48.789-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sugar Coated Beef Hearts</title><content type='html'>Doesn't that sound tasty?  It is what we had for dinner last night.  &lt;br /&gt;Just kidding!&lt;br /&gt;Just some random thoughts over the past few days.....&lt;br /&gt;First the beef hearts.  I was making beef stew and John had gotten sausage for me to use.  I'm not really a fan of cooking meat, it just totally grosses me out.  I like to eat meat, but hate dealing with it when it is raw.  So, this sausage was red.  Not like a meaty good looking red, but bright candy apple red--that did not look natural in any way, it looked like it was dyed red.  So, that sort of raised my "ewww, gross" flags to begin with.  Then, I decided to read the ingredients.  NEVER a good idea.  I've never read ingredients in any meat and been able to eat or cook that meat directly afterwards.  Yesterday was no exception.  This is what I read, "mechanically separated chicken, beef hearts" and "made with chicken, meat by-products and pork, cereal added, artificially colored".  So, I omitted the sausage from the stew.  Do I even want to know what a meat by-product is?  Hair?  Fingernails?  Eyeballs?  Testicles?  I'm guessing that cereal added isn't something good like Captin Crunch or Honey Nut Cheerios...don't think that I want to know.  And then, there is the recipe that calls for pork butt.  Seriously?  Is it really butt?  I didn't make that recipe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm converting to a vegetarian.  Living off the land.  Eating only things that grow from dirt.  Chocolate is grown from dirt, right?  The cocoa beans...yeah, I'm safe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8597042924399540612?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8597042924399540612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8597042924399540612' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8597042924399540612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8597042924399540612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/01/sugar-coated-beef-hearts.html' title='Sugar Coated Beef Hearts'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-5407291624886341808</id><published>2009-01-10T07:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T08:09:39.538-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost There</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SWirJxP6GtI/AAAAAAAAAN4/3G3BRPNDs1o/s1600-h/DSCN1732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SWirJxP6GtI/AAAAAAAAAN4/3G3BRPNDs1o/s320/DSCN1732.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289665946673879762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We think.  We hope.  We pray.  That we are almost there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping through the night, that is.  We have juggled eating with bath time with naps in the evenings to try and figure out how or when Quincy should go down for the night.  One night this week, Monday I think, when Quincy got home from daycare (he had just eaten there) we put him in his swing.  He fell asleep as usual but he kept sleeping and sleeping.  He slept for 4 hours.  At that point I was asking John, should we wake him up to feed him and then put him to bed?  Or just put him to bed?  What to do?  Both of us were waiting for him to get up and then get down for the night before we could go to bed.  It was about 10pm at this point.  We decided to not wake him but just to wait on him.  So about 2 hours later, now midnight, we are thinking, "what if this is the night that he sleeps all night and we stay up waiting for him to wake up?".  So we finally went to bed around 12:30am.  That magical thing happened then, just as we pulled the covers up to our heads and had visions of sugarplums dancing in our heads, Quincy cries.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are trying to figure it out here.  So the next night when Q gets home from daycare, we immediately bathe him and put him to bed.  It was actually kind of late, he didn't get home until 6:30, so it was between 7:30-8:00pm before we got him down.  I think he slept that night until 4am.  Last night we put him down at 7pm and he wakes up at 5am!  Yippee!  John fed him at 5 and put him back down and he is still sleeping now, it is 8am.  8am, Saturday morning, kind of gloomy outside, nothing to do, and I'm blogging?  I think that I'm just so excited about Q sleeping that I literally could not sleep!  I stayed in bed for what seemed like hours and tossed and turned thinking that we may have turned a corner here!  So, I'm up blogging about it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-5407291624886341808?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/5407291624886341808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=5407291624886341808' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5407291624886341808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5407291624886341808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/01/almost-there.html' title='Almost There'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SWirJxP6GtI/AAAAAAAAAN4/3G3BRPNDs1o/s72-c/DSCN1732.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8202212496651191975</id><published>2009-01-05T18:04:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T19:00:52.353-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Nesting?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday John and I spent a good portion of the day cleaning.  I mean, WHEN did I become that person that actually FELT better when having a clean house?  It was sometime during my pregnancy.  It hasn't stopped.  Maybe it is a "mom" thing.  I actually spent about one hour with my head upside down in our oven, scrubbing.  I would stand up to let the blood in my head drain back down and take a deep breath (I'd been holding my breath due to the smell of the cleaning chemical)...and I wondered why I was dizzy and had a headache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never thought that I would clean an oven in my life.  I remember when my mom would clean our oven when I was little.  She would use this spray and then set the oven to do a "self clean".  I don't think that our oven has that option.  Plus, it takes several hours and I needed it to make dinner last night since we were having guests over.  I just never saw myself doing something like this.  And for good reason too, it was not fun.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is something about starting the New Year with a clean, organized house.  I didn't go too far into the cleaning/organizing thing, but there are no dust bunnies (in plain sight, which is all that counts, right?)...  I'm excited about the coming year, watching Q grow and learn new things, everyday.  He is really getting to the fun stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy started a new daycare.  We've actually tried to get him into Baptist Daycare since I was about 6 months pregnant and became an employee there.  They were full and have been until a few weeks ago.  We liked the other place okay but knew it was temporary until we could get the other slot.  I guess we didn't have any basis for comparison until we were at the new place.  We like it much much better.  It really seems to be a good learning environment and very caring employees.  The picture below is what the last daycare gave me on our last day...a picture with Santa.  Before you ask...I don't know.  I don't know why he didn't have clothes on, I don't know why the "santa" looks scary and NOT happy to be holding my baby, I don't know why he doesn't have a mouth...but I can guess why Q looks so funny!  I mean, this picture should have not been printed or given to the parents.  It kind of looks scary.  Needless to say, We LOVE Baptist Daycare!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SWVP8nPvhYI/AAAAAAAAANw/rTuUko7pmzA/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SWVP8nPvhYI/AAAAAAAAANw/rTuUko7pmzA/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288721240162272642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8202212496651191975?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8202212496651191975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8202212496651191975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8202212496651191975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8202212496651191975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/01/still-nesting.html' title='Still Nesting?'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SWVP8nPvhYI/AAAAAAAAANw/rTuUko7pmzA/s72-c/photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-6512492051083195447</id><published>2009-01-02T17:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T18:39:20.001-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PTO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6zgZjzCsI/AAAAAAAAANo/rdBESot6lWY/s1600-h/DSCN1729.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6zgZjzCsI/AAAAAAAAANo/rdBESot6lWY/s320/DSCN1729.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286860381777758914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yw3m_19I/AAAAAAAAANg/6hqH_mzi3-0/s1600-h/DSCN1727.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yw3m_19I/AAAAAAAAANg/6hqH_mzi3-0/s320/DSCN1727.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286859565210523602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yweoeflI/AAAAAAAAANY/wriQ58q-ySQ/s1600-h/IMG_0033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yweoeflI/AAAAAAAAANY/wriQ58q-ySQ/s320/IMG_0033.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286859558505840210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yvzHhA7I/AAAAAAAAANQ/HUXWlBGqOcs/s1600-h/DSCN1709.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yvzHhA7I/AAAAAAAAANQ/HUXWlBGqOcs/s320/DSCN1709.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286859546824868786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yvvG8x7I/AAAAAAAAANI/zkPiClvgnmw/s1600-h/DSCN1694.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yvvG8x7I/AAAAAAAAANI/zkPiClvgnmw/s320/DSCN1694.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286859545748752306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yvPeqNmI/AAAAAAAAANA/s8XZRNvnfFQ/s1600-h/IMG_0046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6yvPeqNmI/AAAAAAAAANA/s8XZRNvnfFQ/s320/IMG_0046.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286859537258264162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the past few days have been out of sorts for me with the holidays.  I worked yesterday because all of the therapy staff has to take one holiday a year, so mine is over for 2009!  If we take time off, we have to use PTO, paid time off.  I don't have all that much PTO built up at Baptist because I've not been there too long.  I've only had my newest job for a little over 3 months.  I've decided that after only 3.5 months on the motherhood job, I'm ready to turn in some PTO time!  I should have clocked a lotta time off, considering how much I've worked regular hours, overtime, weekend, and the nights, oh the nights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-6512492051083195447?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/6512492051083195447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=6512492051083195447' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6512492051083195447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6512492051083195447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2009/01/pto.html' title='PTO'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SV6zgZjzCsI/AAAAAAAAANo/rdBESot6lWY/s72-c/DSCN1729.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-5722279246833316265</id><published>2008-12-31T18:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T13:33:27.700-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SVqjw-9xWWI/AAAAAAAAAMg/aFGpU9KUboE/s1600-h/DSCN1703.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SVqjw-9xWWI/AAAAAAAAAMg/aFGpU9KUboE/s320/DSCN1703.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285717174603831650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are still alive...I think...I guess I could be dreaming:)  Sometimes I feel like I'm in a dream, a blurry fog of fatigue and happiness.  Quincy was born three months ago today, on a Sunday.  Some parts of that day I remember like it was actually today and some parts I don't remember very well or accurately.  One day I'm going to blog about the day Q was born and the Saturday before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month we don't have a doctors appointment.  It's weird to me that they trust us with the little dude for 2 whole months before checking in on him.  I guess they figure that if we didn't kill him in the first 8 weeks (when a killing is highly likely), then we can make it 16 weeks before checking on us again.  The four month appointment is in January.  So, I'm guessing on the stats.  He feels much more thicker than before, I'm guessing around 12-13 lbs.  His face is filling out and his little legs now have rolls!  Not sure about length except to say that he can't wear anything with footsies attached.  This makes me very sad because one of my very favorite thing about kids clothes are the onsies that have footsies.  He's too long for that.  And too long for overalls.  His diaper would protect from a furious wedgie, but I can't do that to him.  &lt;br /&gt; He isn't as dependent on his pacifier as before and often sucks on his entire fist!  He has slept through the night a few times but nothing regular yet.  He knows that bedtime is different from other naps and he doesn't fight it.  He will go to bed without rocking and entertain himself until he falls asleep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still breastfeeding some.  I usually feed him once a day.  Once I went back to work it was too time consuming and stressful to pump, so we introduced formula and gradually weaned him from breast milk as his primary source.  It is really weird that I haven't wanted to give up breastfeeding all together.  I do enjoy not being tied down to every 3 hours of every day...but nothing has been sweeter so far than to breastfeed.  Except maybe the smiles, that is pretty cool too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiles all the time and is "talking" up a storm.  Many times he talks so much that John and I can't get a word in edgewise.  If we only knew what he was saying.  He has officially outgrown all newborn clothes and most 3 month outfits.  He can follow your voice with his eyes and kind of spastically waves his arms when he is excited.  He still LOVES baths.  He is drinking 6-8oz every 3-4 hours.  I'm not sure, is this too much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is cuddly and so much fun.  We fall more in love with him everyday...we wouldn't of course kill him, but we might kill for him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-5722279246833316265?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/5722279246833316265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=5722279246833316265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5722279246833316265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5722279246833316265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/12/three-months.html' title='Three Months'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SVqjw-9xWWI/AAAAAAAAAMg/aFGpU9KUboE/s72-c/DSCN1703.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-1846298114584336480</id><published>2008-12-30T16:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T16:32:20.898-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing Catchup</title><content type='html'>Well, Christmas has come and gone and I'm not sure that I was around for any of it!  The last post that I wrote was on December 17th, a Wednesday.  The Wednesday after the horrid stomach virus that almost left the entire Telford family for dead.  That next day, Thursday, December 18th I returned to work.  I work on a geriatric psychiatric unit.  For the two reasons people are there, elderly and mentally ill, we try and do things to keep them oriented to date.  That day I read on the board, "Thursday, December 18, 2008.  7 Days until Christmas".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven days???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How come no one told me?  Besides the fact that Quincy has made our lives very different, we did lose a few days when we were sick.  When we returned to the world, things had continued without us.  Surprise.  Anyway, so I just feel like we really didn't have Christmas.  My tree is up.  Has been since the Sunday after Thanksgiving.  However, we never got around to putting any decorations on it.  I didn't wrap one single gift.  Mainly because we didn't buy one single gift.  I did get my mom and John's mom a small something.  I gave it to my mom in the brown paper sack that it came in, but did tie a previously used pretty gold ribbon around it.  I had good intentions for Christmas cards.  I thought that it would be fun to make them.  Lack of sleep obviously impairs ones judgement.  Some people got em', some didn't.  I thought of all of you...some I planned to hand deliver, didn't happen.  So, I'll post one below so you can see it.  It was a birth announcement/Christmas card.  I really did have good intentions and I apologize for not getting them out on time or to everyone.  In the days to come I hope to post many catchup posts...they will be out of order and random, welcome to my world:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SVqgaLF_sAI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/JBICGkFE_U8/s1600-h/DSCN1749.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SVqgaLF_sAI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/JBICGkFE_U8/s320/DSCN1749.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285713484187676674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SVqgacu4EjI/AAAAAAAAAMY/BE_IBWiQ-I8/s1600-h/DSCN1758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SVqgacu4EjI/AAAAAAAAAMY/BE_IBWiQ-I8/s320/DSCN1758.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285713488922546738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-1846298114584336480?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/1846298114584336480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=1846298114584336480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1846298114584336480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1846298114584336480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/12/playing-catchup.html' title='Playing Catchup'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SVqgaLF_sAI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/JBICGkFE_U8/s72-c/DSCN1749.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2408810867700258861</id><published>2008-12-29T20:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T20:46:00.926-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nine</title><content type='html'>This is how many posts that I have saved as "drafts", waiting for me to upload pictures before posting.  Nine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2408810867700258861?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2408810867700258861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2408810867700258861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2408810867700258861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2408810867700258861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/12/nine.html' title='Nine'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3211282747935451133</id><published>2008-12-17T14:35:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T02:57:46.297-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It Takes A Village...of Angels</title><content type='html'>The following blog is not for the weak of stomach.  Or those who think they are too hoity toity to read about basic bodily functions, come on, it happens to you too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part I&lt;br /&gt;The story begins around 7am Monday morning.  I got up early to get to work since we are short-handed and it was a Monday, I knew that it would be wild.  I arrived and worked hard for a few hours, enough to earn me a breakfast break with co-workers.  I was back hard at work again and get a text from John, "Hey, I'm sick (throwing up/diarrhea).  Can u come by and get Quincy to day care when u get a chance?"  sent at 9:35am.  I text him back that I can't leave but I'll ask anyway.  Of course, wonderful boss comes through again and says "go home and be safe, I hear it's going to get bad out there".  I'm on the way home, stopping by the grocery store for sprite and a few necessities just in case it actually does "precipitate and stick".  So I pull in my parking spot at the grocery store and get a text, saying "Hurry, I'm throwing up and pooping on the pot while Q's cryin'" sent at 10:38am.  So, just keep driving through the parking spot, on the way home now.  (side note:  Q is really congested again, like when he had RSV, so we had scheduled him a doc appt at 2:10 on this day).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get home and walk in to the smell of sick.  You know that public restroom smell times 100.  I'm lighting candles, spraying air freshener trying to not touch anything at all.  I do not want this.  I do know that if I do get it, I'll want certain things done.  So, I go into mom mode and start washing essentials:  underwear, socks, t-shirts, pj pants.  I know that I'll want some clean pj's when I get sick.  Then I rush around like a wild woman picking up the house, cleaning all of Q's bottles, looking at recipes on the internet (in case we are stuck inside and I'm not sick and want to cook soup), making a grocery list of things that John may want to eat when he feels better.  I mean, I was getting alot accomplished, and fast.  I didn't have time to eat lunch.  I looked up at it was 1:30pm, time to head to the doctor.  I grab my grocery list, Q, and off we go.  It is very cold and dreary outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to the doctor and are sitting in the "sick" waiting room.  It is then that I feel the first wave of nausea hit.  I told myself, "nah, imagination".  The feeling gets worse and more frequent but what do you do?  The doc said that Q probably still had RSV and there was nothing they could do unless it progressed.  She told me the signs to look for and sent us on our way.  We leave the doc's office and are hit with sleet!  I was like, "oh no"...I still have to go to the grocery store.  John had asked for Sprite at approximately 10am this morning, it is now 3pm, and he still doesn't have it, I HAVE to go to the grocery store.  Plus, it really is "precipitating" and it is 27 degrees, I have to go to the grocery store.  Well, so does the rest of Little Rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me about an hour to get a few essentials.  I've never taken Q to the grocery store with me.  So in the sleeting rain I'm dragging my baby through a crowd of people while fighting nausea myself.  We made it home safe and sound around 4:30pm.  John is still in bed and I'm in the recliner with Q when it hits me.  Not to go into too many details here, but next thing that I had to do was take a shower.  I still didn't feel all that bad, yet.  I knew at this point that I had whatever it was John had and my next concern was that Quincy would get it.  I called my cousin Todd for help.  He and his girlfriend were going to come over and spend the night to take care of Q until we realized that they too would get sick.  And the roads were getting bad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was full on sick by this point and had no idea what to do.  I was really sick and so was John...how do we take care of Quincy?  He was fussy because of the congestion and wanted to be held...not really possible if you are on the pot and throwing up simultaneously.  I thought about friends, family members, babysitters.  Nothing really seemed like a viable option.  I called my mom in El Dorado (it was 6pm) and she couldn't come because it was already dark and the roads were icy.  She said that she could come first thing in the morning but I was thinking that making it through the night was going to be the most difficult.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have three friends that live extremely close that I feel like I could ask anything of them.  I have lots of friends that I feel like I could ask anything of, but many live out of town.  I called Heather.  Called her first because she is single and thought it might be easiest for her to help us.  She wasn't home.  I called Shannon, her twin sister.  I thought about calling Shannon first because her husband Rory has a big truck and is from Indiana, so he is used to driving in this kind of weather.  But, for whatever reason I called Heather first.  Shannon wasn't home either.  The other person that I thought about calling was Krysta.  She lives the closest but she also has a little boy and I didn't want him to get sick.  So, I ruled out calling Krysta almost immediately.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heather called back first.  She was going to come until her roommate almost fell in their driveway.  Then she thought it might not be a good idea to drive.  Next thing I know Shannon is calling with an elaborate plan which involved her and Rory coming to get Q for the night.  I'm so sick at this point, I'm just like thinking, "whatever works".  Something about Rory having to take Shannon into work the next day and didn't want Q riding in the car with bad weather so they would drop him off at Krysta's during that.  More on how that actually went down later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I tell John to help me try and get Q's stuff together and he just sort of looks at me.  I'm  trying to get things together and he is trying to watch Quincy.  Sometime in there I'm changing Q and need to run to the bathroom.  I can't leave Q on the changing table.  "John??"  no answer.  Oh my gosh, "JOOOOHHHNNNN"???  He slowly walks into the room.  I run to the bathroom and return to find Q in the same spot on the table, John sitting down, with one hand on Q to make sure that he didn't roll off, and the other hand supporting his head.  "I'm lightheaded" he says.  Great.  Just great.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shannon and Rory arrive, we thank them, apologize for the sick smell, and give some instructions.  I'm not worried at all, Shannon works at Arkansas Children's Hospital and Rory can entertain a brick wall, Q will have a great time!  We are trying to give last minute instructions and I'm feeling faint.  I hand Q over to Shannon because I feel too weak to hold him and think that I might drop him.  I felt this way right after he was born too.  Shannon's mom mode kicks in because she takes Quincy, straps him in, gathers his stuff, says "feel better, don't worry about Quincy" and is out the door.  This was about 9:30pm Monday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next memory that I have is not pleasant, well, actually, the next two memories.  John and I are in bed and I didn't make it to the bathroom to throw up.  Thank goodness for plastic trashcans by the bed!  I go back to sleep and wake up to John getting out of bed and then....ugh....this smell.  Poop.  I'm imagining a parade with horses when it is real cold outside and they poop a huge pile and steam rises up.  I ask John if he pooped the bed.  He says "yep".  I just get up and go to the couch.  I saw him throwing a towel on the bed, I assumed to clean it up.  I sleep on the couch until about 6:30am when my mom calls saying that she is on her way.  Please be careful, I say.  Then Shannon calls for updates on plans for Q for the day.  I agree with whatever she says.  At this point I go to check on John.  He is on MY side of the bed....he just threw the towel on his side and took my side.  Later our conversation went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MT:  "So what happened last night?"&lt;br /&gt;JT:  "Yeah, why did you sleep on the couch?"&lt;br /&gt;MT:  "Because you were sleeping on my side of the bed."&lt;br /&gt;JT:  "Well I was going to sleep on my side but when I got out of the shower you were gone and I wondered why you moved to the couch.  So I took the good side of the bed."&lt;br /&gt;MT:  "What if I had been in the bed still?"&lt;br /&gt;JT:  "Oh, I was just going to sleep on top of the towel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 11am my mother arrives with phenigrin suppositories, or "bootie bullets" as a friend calls them.  I thank her but nicely tell her that when you are puking nothing will stay down, and when you have diarrhea, nothing will stay up.  She does laundry (yes this includes our poopie pants and sheets), dishes, sprays Lysol on every molecule in our house.  John starts feeling better around 3pm or so.  Heather and Rory arrive with our baby.  My mom leaves because John says that he feels well enough to take care of Q now.  I take 2 phenigrin tablets and go to the dark side.  Sometime during that I have a vague memory of John bringing me soup on the couch and falling asleep with it in my hand.  He had to practically carry me to bed.  Also during that time i apparently called my boss to tell him that I wouldn't be coming into work, and no telling what else.  I woke up around 6:30am or so but went back to sleep after 3 peanut butter double stuffed oreos.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part II&lt;br /&gt;I get a call from Shannon about 12:30pm asking what our symptoms were.  Rory is now sick.  He called Shannon to come home from work to take him to the hospital.  I feel awful.  Shannon says that he had texted me earlier for help.  I was completely out.  I looked back, the text says, "I'm Very sick.  Need help.  Pls call Shan."  I feel even worse.  Rory gives a cry for help and I'm sleeping.  Shannon later came over to get some Phenigrin for Rory to take and says that she got home to a very very very warm house with Rory lying outside the bathroom door covered in towels.  He told her that it took him 20 mins to muster the strength to get from the bathroom to his phone in the living room to text me...we are talking a distance of about 5-7 feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rory was with Quincy the most during this crazy time.  Later this is what I found out happened while they were keeping him.  When Shannon and Rory got home and got settled it was Rory who was up with him most of the night.  Rory said, "all that I knew to do was support the head".  Shannon said that he peeked into their room saying, "ok, I've done this this and this, what now?"  I guess she instructed him and he followed!  There was one time when he said that Q had a dirty diaper and she would have to take care of this because he didn't know what to do.  I think around 7am Rory, Shannon, and Quincy left in his big truck to take Shannon to work.  Being the insightful and cautious parents that they will be, they dropped Quincy off at our friends Nick and Krysta's so he would be in the car less time, less chance of something happening on the ice roads.  Not exactly sure how long he was there, but Krysta gave him a bath and put him in one of Nicholas' old gowns.  Rory dropped Shannon off and picked up Heather, then picked up Quincy, then the 3 of them go to Shannon and Rory's house for the day while Heather and Rory babysit.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now Rory is sick, and I missed his cry for help.  Oh man, we feel bad.  Actually, we feel a little better, but you get the idea.  I'm sure I missed some details and got some things confused, but this is pretty much what happened in the past 48 hours of our lives.  So, it does take a village to raise a child...and our village just happens to consist of angels.  We love you and thank you for your help!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3211282747935451133?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3211282747935451133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3211282747935451133' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3211282747935451133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3211282747935451133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-takes-villageof-angels.html' title='It Takes A Village...of Angels'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4727586875182104359</id><published>2008-12-09T17:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:22:42.746-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Traditions</title><content type='html'>As we start our family I've been thinking about traditions.  My family didn't have many traditions but I remember some that were special to me.  I have been thinking of what I'd like our new family traditions during the holidays to be.  I have several ideas but I'd like to hear about your family traditions.  I might wanna steal them!  So if you get a chance, please email me at mollytelford@yahoo.com or simply leave a comment!  Thank you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4727586875182104359?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4727586875182104359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4727586875182104359' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4727586875182104359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4727586875182104359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/12/traditions.html' title='Traditions'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2381419815680951075</id><published>2008-12-07T15:42:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:09:33.513-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Child Labor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ST39XM3j8KI/AAAAAAAAAME/anKQzUTzA10/s1600-h/IMG_0236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ST39XM3j8KI/AAAAAAAAAME/anKQzUTzA10/s320/IMG_0236.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277652913381175458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ST38CLeKZ2I/AAAAAAAAAL8/CUBwjdrINKA/s1600-h/IMG_0036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ST38CLeKZ2I/AAAAAAAAAL8/CUBwjdrINKA/s320/IMG_0036.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277651452717328226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start em' out early!  Now that Quincy is able to hold his head up better and longer we are running out of things to keep him entertained.  We play and sing and dance and walk and bounce and read and repeat.  He gets bored quickly.  We borrowed a Baby Bjorn carrier from our friends the Rupp's.  We didn't want to buy one until we knew if Q would like it or not.  He hates facing inward but loves to look out.  Today we couldn't get him calmed down so John strapped him on.  He then cleaned the kitchen and Quincy seemed to love it.  Banging and clinging of dishes and bending over to load the dishwasher provided much entertainment to Quincy.  We told him that we would let him clean the kitchen anytime, especially since most of the dishes (bottles) are his anyway!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2381419815680951075?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2381419815680951075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2381419815680951075' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2381419815680951075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2381419815680951075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/12/child-labor.html' title='Child Labor'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/ST39XM3j8KI/AAAAAAAAAME/anKQzUTzA10/s72-c/IMG_0236.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-7227719476515340661</id><published>2008-11-28T16:50:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T22:04:50.265-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Peanut Gallery</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/STNaOGlpl3I/AAAAAAAAALc/DnajQrm06lk/s1600-h/Thanksgiving+%2708+Broken+Bow,+OK+082.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/STNaOGlpl3I/AAAAAAAAALc/DnajQrm06lk/s320/Thanksgiving+%2708+Broken+Bow,+OK+082.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274658786914178930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we were all stuffed with Thanksgiving day goodies, this is what we did.  Q provided the entertainment free of charge.  He was such a good baby.  He ohhed and ahhed and smiled and batted his eyes as he was passed from family member to family member to family member to family member, and repeated that process over and over again!  Of course we were so happy to show him off and even more happy that he pretended to be the perfect baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/STNc9elRGLI/AAAAAAAAALs/TSvEkZu2MJM/s1600-h/Thanksgiving+%2708+Broken+Bow,+OK+065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/STNc9elRGLI/AAAAAAAAALs/TSvEkZu2MJM/s320/Thanksgiving+%2708+Broken+Bow,+OK+065.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274661799832131762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of John's family had rented a cabin in Broken Bow, OK.  We just spent the day there, but it was beautiful.  The cabin was so neat and the weather was wonderful.  Above is John and his dad Barry out in the wild.  Below are all the girlies.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/STNc9Bn3y0I/AAAAAAAAALk/yAQw5gjlM3U/s1600-h/Thanksgiving+%2708+Broken+Bow,+OK+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/STNc9Bn3y0I/AAAAAAAAALk/yAQw5gjlM3U/s320/Thanksgiving+%2708+Broken+Bow,+OK+019.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274661792058428226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT A LONG DAY SAYS QUINCY...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/STNc-POYHtI/AAAAAAAAAL0/FruwSLdQGEY/s1600-h/Thanksgiving+%2708+Broken+Bow,+OK+085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/STNc-POYHtI/AAAAAAAAAL0/FruwSLdQGEY/s320/Thanksgiving+%2708+Broken+Bow,+OK+085.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274661812889460434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-7227719476515340661?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/7227719476515340661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=7227719476515340661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7227719476515340661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7227719476515340661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/11/peanut-gallery.html' title='Peanut Gallery'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/STNaOGlpl3I/AAAAAAAAALc/DnajQrm06lk/s72-c/Thanksgiving+%2708+Broken+Bow,+OK+082.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-7070580472743620443</id><published>2008-11-23T18:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T18:57:13.339-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pat the Bunny</title><content type='html'>Or not.  Several weeks ago I posted a blog about babies smiling in their sleep.  It was my understanding (or maybe dream) that babies smiled in their sleep when they caught bunnies (I refuse to believe the gas hypothesis).  The bunnies chase them and they cry or they chase the bunnies and then this is why they smile or even laugh.  Two times previously I have tried to read Quincy a book called "Pat The Bunny" that my dear friend Chris gave him when she came to visit him the first time.  She claimed that all kids loved this book.  Both of those times Quincy was happy and alert and I thought it would be a good opportunity to read to him.  Not so much.  At least the bunny book.  He cried both times and I could not figure out why...so, I've got more evidence to back up my case...babies are chased by bunnies in their dreams!  It is a cute book, a sweet book.  But Q does not like it.  I decided to give it one more try today, same outcome.  Quincy does not want to pat the bunny, see the bunny, hear about the bunny...unless he is about to skin it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-7070580472743620443?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/7070580472743620443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=7070580472743620443' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7070580472743620443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7070580472743620443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/11/pat-bunny.html' title='Pat the Bunny'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-671821417524029320</id><published>2008-11-22T21:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T21:37:37.459-06:00</updated><title type='text'>RSV</title><content type='html'>We went to the doctor last week and confirmed our suspicions, Quincy has RSV.  That stands for Respiratory Syncytial Virus.  In adults it is basically the common cold, but can be more serious in infants.  RSV also can cause infection in the lower respiratory tract, such as pneumonia in the lung tissue and bronchiolitis inside the smallest airways (bronchioles) within the lungs.  I think that we have bypassed the latter and more serious.  Quincy is being a trooper.  He is a little more fussy, but not terribly.  You can tell that he feels badly though.  I have a cold and so when he sort of whines and whimpers I just say, "i know".  John and I both have taken showers with him, suctioned his nose, used a humidifier, and given him lots of extra love.  We know that he got it from daycare because there was a sign on the door saying that one infant had it.  What do you do?  My friends who have kids in daycare say it is inevitable, Q will be sick over and over.  I hate that but we don't have any other option.  Maybe it will make him be really immune in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-671821417524029320?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/671821417524029320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=671821417524029320' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/671821417524029320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/671821417524029320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/11/rsv.html' title='RSV'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2490203449831534685</id><published>2008-11-16T23:41:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T06:52:54.971-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Roadtrip</title><content type='html'>first roadtrip.....&lt;br /&gt;Actually it went really well until the last hour, which turned into two.  We stopped at the McDonald's in Arkadelphia for a bathroom break and burgers.  Quincy has been congested the past few days and it seemed to be getting worse on the way home.  He was not complaining much though.  When we stopped John went in to use the restroom get food and then came back to eat while I fed Quincy who was getting increasingly more upset.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We switched and he fed Q while i went into the bathroom.....never thought that I'd look forward to a public restroom. ah, it was quiet.  But then i went in a stall and the oasis was all ruined, public bathrooms are so nasty.  I mean, I don't even want the soles of my shoes to touch the floor, much less use my hands to open the doors, yuck.  Some people are just so gross and I can't believe that I use those restrooms.  I get back to the car and John says Q is really really really poopy.  i look at him and he is so content so I ask john if we can just go to the Freemans so I can eat and we can change him there?  We'd already been in the car at mcadoos in the parking lot for about 30mins and we still had several things to do before getting back on the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John says that he wants to change him in Mcdonalds in the restroom.  "?"  YUCK.  I just came from there and wouldn't want my baby in there at all!  I convey this to John and he says that we have a plastic pad to put down so he doesn't touch anything.  I'm still seeing lots of germs and viruses in there and thinking, "where will he put the diaper bag?"  Not on the floor!  I can only imagine what is on the floor in a mens restroom at McDonalds, I mean, little boys and big boys for that matter don't have the best aim.  And at a public place for kids, oh man, disgusting.  So after this runs through my head I ask John, can't he just wait til we get to the Freemans?  John was not really for this idea but agreed to it.  He went to put Q in the car seat and that was when I saw it.  The poo.  Lots and lots of poo.  He had on a onsie with a cardigan and pants.  It wasn't on the pants or cardigan but when John went to put him into the car seat as he lifted him up, I saw poo ALL over the onsie...and John's hands.  I was like, "no way".  John said, "I told you".  "You didn't tell me that it was ALL over him AND you".  John said that he didn't realize that it was really this bad.  So, I start to gather the necessary ingredients for him to make a diaper change.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get in the car and eat my food really quickly.  John returns, hands me a big wad of changing pad and I don't know what else.  Q looks really content, still.  I bag up the "goodies" that Q produced and we are on our way again.  When we got back on the road I ask John how was changing him on the changing table?  John says that he used a booth.  "a booth?"  "Yeah, in the back."  I ask, "back of the bathroom".  "No, on a table in the back of the restaurant".  No way.  "What happened?"  John went on to explain that he couldn't find the changing table.  I didn't ask any questions at this point.  When he told me that he was going to change Q in the bathroom I wondered if there was a changing table in the men's room.  John was sure that there was.  When he went back in he couldn't' find it and so he laid Q flat out on an eating table and took care of his business.  I'm quite sure that violated more than one Department of Health rule!  There were people in there eating!  He said that when he left he told the employees that the table needed to be cleaned.  Just be warned, DO NOT eat at McDonalds in Arkadoo (no pun intended) at the last booth before the restrooms!  Our first roadtrip with a child.  Fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, did I mention that Bella jumped in the car seat with Quincy 3 times and Jack jumped in twice?  And together, both dogs puked 3 times.  Family roadtrips, not for the weak.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2490203449831534685?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2490203449831534685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2490203449831534685' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2490203449831534685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2490203449831534685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/11/roadtrip.html' title='Roadtrip'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-9130904998745277065</id><published>2008-11-14T21:38:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T23:48:55.869-06:00</updated><title type='text'>TWO Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SR5hkOxt1mI/AAAAAAAAALU/FSnIa1wxhyU/s1600-h/DSCN1600.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SR5hkOxt1mI/AAAAAAAAALU/FSnIa1wxhyU/s320/DSCN1600.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268755889139865186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe that it has been two months already!  Today we had our 2 month check-up at our pediatrician's office.  We are going to a clinic where there are 6 doctors.  We are sort of rotating around to all the different docs to find out who we really like and click with.  Today we saw our favorite doctor so far.  Our appointment was at 3:10p and we were not seen until 4:30 or so.  The waiting room was full.  We decided that right after school was not the best time for an appointment.  We will plan better next time!  The doctor was worth the wait though.  She gave him a very thorough physical checking every part from head to toe and was great at answering our questions and the reasons behind her suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stats:  Quincy weighed in at 10.4lbs, up from 8.7lbs at last appointment (25th percentile).  Height was 23 inches, up from 21.5 inches making him in the 50th percentile for height.  I think that my favorite thing right now is his interest in everything.  He studies your face so seriously and tries to mimic whatever you are doing with your mouth.  It is the cutest thing ever.  He ends up looking like this a lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SR5NC_fIMMI/AAAAAAAAAK8/2IoGrCMtFKA/s1600-h/IMG_0208.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SR5NC_fIMMI/AAAAAAAAAK8/2IoGrCMtFKA/s320/IMG_0208.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268733327867130050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a dreaded visit because he had to get 4 shots!  I mean, come on, can't they just mix all that stuff into one syringe?  He got two on each thigh.  He really did well, considering!  John and I were both holding his hands, head, trying to make him feel better.  The needles were so long and I swear she put the needle halfway through his leg.  It was so hard to watch my child in pain.  I mean, break your heart.  And this is so minor!  I'm thankful for a very healthy little boy that has not had any problems thus far.  The picture below captures how he was feeling about those big ol needles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SR5NC6beaeI/AAAAAAAAALE/rd9ipNzjdI0/s1600-h/IMG_0211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SR5NC6beaeI/AAAAAAAAALE/rd9ipNzjdI0/s320/IMG_0211.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268733326509631970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy is growing, quickly and easily seen by how fast his clothes are shrinking!  I think that he is getting to where he doesn't like to be swaddled as much.  We only do this at night but our blankets aren't holding him in as tightly anymore.  We can put him in his crib before he is asleep and he doesn't cry and will go to sleep on his own.  He usually is in bed by 10 and wakes around 3:30a for eating.  He usually goes back to sleep until 6:30 or 7.  Except on my nights to be up with him!  No, he really does pretty well but does seem to like to stay up when it is my turn, I guess he just loves his mommy!  Last night he woke at 3:30 but went back to sleep until about 7:15.  It was John's night.  This was my first week back at work and I'm so very tired.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John has been such a help with Quincy as I'm trying to figure out how to pump enough breast milk, get enough sleep to work, and figure out how to keep things going at home like dinner, laundry, dishes.  The daycare that we chose is close to John's work, so he gets Q ready and then takes him every morning which is a huge relief for me.  After work I will run errands and get dinner started before picking Q up, or even a few days let him stay until John came home.  I've worked until 2 or 3 most days this week (supposed to get off at 12) so I've let him stay at daycare longer than I usually will.  We are all still alive, so I guess we are doing well!  Quincy might disagree, see below for his war vaccination wounds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SR5g5u6jRII/AAAAAAAAALM/mPnWmzNFgYU/s1600-h/DSCN1647.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SR5g5u6jRII/AAAAAAAAALM/mPnWmzNFgYU/s320/DSCN1647.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268755159032480898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-9130904998745277065?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/9130904998745277065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=9130904998745277065' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9130904998745277065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9130904998745277065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/11/two-months.html' title='TWO Months'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SR5hkOxt1mI/AAAAAAAAALU/FSnIa1wxhyU/s72-c/DSCN1600.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3690688121366719407</id><published>2008-11-09T22:44:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T23:01:51.229-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Big Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRfAJAu3axI/AAAAAAAAAJc/fxy3LVufmQ4/s1600-h/IMG_0105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRfAJAu3axI/AAAAAAAAAJc/fxy3LVufmQ4/s320/IMG_0105.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266889550281009938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the history of my life.  Not as big as election day, but for me, actually a lot bigger.  Tomorrow John and I will drop our son off at daycare.  Ak!  I'm so torn about doing this.  I want to stay at home and know that no one will take care of him like I would.  I also know that I need to get back to work and I actually miss my wonderful job and co-workers!  I'm comforted by the fact that he will only be there 4 hours a day though.  I've spent most of the day getting all of his "school supplies" together.  I've just about worn out a sharpie marker writing "Quincy Telford" on everything!  I've got everything together that he needs to make it through the day--except me.  I don't feel guilty about leaving him, I just feel sad that someone else will get to spend 4 hours with him instead of me.  I already feel "they grow up so quickly" coming true for us!  Tonight we attempted to put a gown on Q that was so big on him when we first got home from the hospital and tonight he was too long for it!  He has officially grown out of his newborn clothes and can wear all 3 month outfits and some 3-6 month clothes.  He doesn't fill out the 3-6 month clothes except for length.  He slept 7.5 hours the other night and we put him to bed tonight as he was still awake and he fell asleep on his own without fussing.  We usually don't put him in his crib until he is asleep--so, we are making progress! He is 8 weeks old and I will post the two month update and picture after our doctors visit on Friday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3690688121366719407?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3690688121366719407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3690688121366719407' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3690688121366719407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3690688121366719407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/11/another-big-day.html' title='Another Big Day'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRfAJAu3axI/AAAAAAAAAJc/fxy3LVufmQ4/s72-c/IMG_0105.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-6225475869181868615</id><published>2008-11-06T12:12:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T23:19:00.414-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Fall Saturdays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKHWlzkxI/AAAAAAAAAJE/W8GHvCJP1Vw/s1600-h/IMG_0177.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKHWlzkxI/AAAAAAAAAJE/W8GHvCJP1Vw/s320/IMG_0177.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266126460719174418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKG92M7RI/AAAAAAAAAI8/DItmNeMXwrw/s1600-h/IMG_0166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKG92M7RI/AAAAAAAAAI8/DItmNeMXwrw/s320/IMG_0166.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266126454077058322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKGbg3DoI/AAAAAAAAAI0/FjkVZV8Gc7A/s1600-h/IMG_0165.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKGbg3DoI/AAAAAAAAAI0/FjkVZV8Gc7A/s320/IMG_0165.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266126444860739202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKGGS9WHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/vuk-bizRNqs/s1600-h/IMG_0160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKGGS9WHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/vuk-bizRNqs/s320/IMG_0160.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266126439165286514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKF6CevAI/AAAAAAAAAIk/oWSZGtUV0Qw/s1600-h/IMG_0159.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKF6CevAI/AAAAAAAAAIk/oWSZGtUV0Qw/s320/IMG_0159.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266126435874946050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past two Saturdays we have really enjoyed the fall weather and the chance to get out and breathe fresh air!  One of the Saturdays we drove to the big town of Carthage, AR.  Victory Bible Camp was established by Brother Sam Sheppardson, the founder and pastor of Marrable Hill Chapel in El Dorado.  I attended this church most of my life and spent countless summers at Victory Bible Camp.  I love this place!  So when I found out that the fall family retreat was nearing, I told John that I'd like to take him there and show him where I have made so many good memories.  Since I was a complete idiot and didn't take any pictures, see Sarah Evans wonderful documentation/pictures at babyevans.blogspot.com---there are no pics of Q, but lots of adorable Alex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday my friend Krysta planned the best birthday bash ever for 2 of our very dear friends, Heather and Shannon.  Her present to them was a 2 hour horse ride.  When they returned to the barn Krysta had planned for husbands plus me to meet up with them and have a bonfire.  I decided to not participate in the horse ride after just giving birth, that could be ouch, very painful!  As the boys were making the fire and whittling the sticks for the hot dogs, us girls were pitching our tent.  The tent that was across the creek!  Okay, so it wasn't a long hike or a wide creek that we had to jump over, but hey, we weren't in the Embassy Suites either.  Once it got dark we roasted our hot dogs and marshmallows for smores while sipping on IBC root beer and listening to Johnny Cash.  Priceless.  Being with good friends, having so much fun, good conversation...that is just something that money can't buy.  I'm so thankful for wonderful wonderful fun friends who appreciate all of the "little" things in life.  I love you girls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things about the twins that I love is that we always find something to laugh about.  Many times we are laughing at ourselves, but laughing!  Our camping trip was no exception.  We climbed into the tent around 10 and started to get into our sleeping bags.  I'm still breastfeeding Quincy so a part of my camping gear was the breast pump!  This thing is a site once it is all hooked up to me.  I have a double electric hands free pump...not trying to get you to imagine anything, but it looks quite silly, especially to be hooked up to in a tent on a camping trip!  So I'm starting to pump and I'm sitting on the far left of the tent, hunched over since the sides of the tent are slanted and my back is touching the side of the tent.  I thought that I felt something brush against my back and so I moved up a little thinking it was the side of the tent.  It happened again and right at that time I feel something sharp on my bare back!!!  I lurched forward (topless with a crazy apparatus attached to my boobs) and said a few things that I won't repeat here.  The girls all quickly looked over to see 4 claws come through the tent.  I'm still trying to move away from the side of the tent and Heather saves the day by hitting the side of the tent and shouting "Git"!  It worked.  Okay, so we don't know what was on the other side of the tent.  After we finished laughing and looked out the "window" it was gone.  But we think that it was a cat.  We had seen a black cat around the farm that night, but in our minds when we say cat, we are thinking like, mountain lion sized cat!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally we settled down and attempted to sleep.  Heather being the good friend (and 4th degree black belt) agreed to trade spots with me so she could fight the next mountain lion since I was obviously not going to be good at that job!  I wasn't scared but I was a little hyper-alert at sounds.  Around 1am I thought that I heard something really close to the tent again.  Not wanting to be "that girl" that gets scared at anything I elected to not say anything and wake the others.  I hear it again.  Heather wakes up and whispers to me, wondering if I'd heard anything.  I said yes and we listened more.  She said, "I think that it is the horses".  They sounded REALLY close.  We unzipped the window again and looked outside our tent to see SIX GIANT HORSES just milling about, like TWO feet from us!!!  We just started laughing.  So there we all are, 4 girls, peering out of our little tent window looking at about 6 tons of animal that could stampede us at any given time.  No one had ever camped in this area before, so it was really a possibility.  This time Shannon said "Git" and off they ran in the other direction!  Only us--this would happen to only us!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The above statements are true and should not be tried at home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-6225475869181868615?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/6225475869181868615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=6225475869181868615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6225475869181868615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6225475869181868615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/11/fun-fall-saturdays.html' title='Fun Fall Saturdays'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUKHWlzkxI/AAAAAAAAAJE/W8GHvCJP1Vw/s72-c/IMG_0177.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3358824603961411662</id><published>2008-11-05T21:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T23:29:30.092-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Heart</title><content type='html'>Last year for one of my Christmas presents John got me Happy Heart perfume by Clinique.  I like it for many reasons.  It smells fresh and clean, light.  It has our picture on the bottle (yep, very cool).  John gave it to me.  I get lots of compliments when wearing it.  I love to smell it on Quincy after holding him.  But, lately as I've gotten a compliment and I've stated what I'm wearing, I feel really cheesy because it is so reflective of how I feel these days.  My heart is so happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUjIsUIkpI/AAAAAAAAAJU/pH_56c6hxkM/s1600-h/IMG_0187.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUjIsUIkpI/AAAAAAAAAJU/pH_56c6hxkM/s320/IMG_0187.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266153971521196690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUjIUkRe2I/AAAAAAAAAJM/UMiloKJKh1A/s1600-h/IMG_0065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUjIUkRe2I/AAAAAAAAAJM/UMiloKJKh1A/s320/IMG_0065.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266153965146438498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3358824603961411662?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3358824603961411662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3358824603961411662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3358824603961411662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3358824603961411662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-heart.html' title='Happy Heart'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SRUjIsUIkpI/AAAAAAAAAJU/pH_56c6hxkM/s72-c/IMG_0187.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4030967496935236925</id><published>2008-11-04T21:46:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T22:16:59.409-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Big Day In History</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SREca2wmYDI/AAAAAAAAAIc/vNO9e14Adsk/s1600-h/IMG_0053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SREca2wmYDI/AAAAAAAAAIc/vNO9e14Adsk/s320/IMG_0053.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265020687074353202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November 4, 2008 will go down in history.  I will always remember this day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CNN just projected Barack Obama to be the next president of the United States of America.  I think that I will always remember this historical moment.  But for me, this day is more special than just a presidential election day.  In my mind it marks the beginning of a different kind of change.  Quincy went with me to vote today but before that we had a ribbon cutting with the Chamber of Commerce of Little Rock for John's agency&lt;a href="johntelfordagency.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and for me it sort of marked and represented the transformation and change in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think that it would be that big of a deal.  In the paper you always see a few people cutting a ribbon and that's it.  When I arrived at the office, early in my mind, there were about 7 people outside.  Quincy and I went in and started to introduce ourselves.  About 30 "ambassadors" ended up arriving and John gave a little speech about his business.  Quincy was definitely the hit of the party.  Everyone thought that he was very cute and loved his outfit.  I've not been around that many people with him yet, so it was a bit overwhelming but lots of fun.  We took the picture but only about 1/4 of the ambassadors could fit in!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was way cool to do the ribbon cutting.  It just made a big part of my life feel official...like, the community recognizes us as a new family starting a business.  It is hard to describe, but it was just John, me, and Quincy and it felt good to be our new family.  Most of the big events in our life our parents have been to, but this time, it was us, the new parents.  This may not make any sense but it was a really good feeling.  Change and history.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4030967496935236925?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4030967496935236925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4030967496935236925' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4030967496935236925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4030967496935236925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/11/big-day-in-history.html' title='A Big Day In History'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SREca2wmYDI/AAAAAAAAAIc/vNO9e14Adsk/s72-c/IMG_0053.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2826920060238273565</id><published>2008-10-30T21:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T22:07:54.044-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Kinda Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQp2GGEm0YI/AAAAAAAAAIU/FvVPyr2Qxi4/s1600-h/IMG_0142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQp2GGEm0YI/AAAAAAAAAIU/FvVPyr2Qxi4/s320/IMG_0142.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263148961617072514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I noticed that Quincy was having difficulty breathing out of his nose (his mouth was occupied with a pacifier) and so I attempted to suction his nose but don't think that was effective.  He slept from 10-2 and then was pretty much up all night after that.  He slept very little, on and off, but was sleeping lightly and would awaken at the slightest noise and was very fussy.  I could tell that he didn't feel well.  He is usually pretty easily consolable but was not at all last night.  He was like that all day today as well.  I finally got out of the house, I think that we both were going crazy, and went to John's office.  I had just fed him and I was talking to him and making faces.  He has this look on his face, focused concentration I would call it.  I stick out my tongue and raise my eyebrows and open my mouth wide.  He is just looking, thinking.  Then he sticks out his tongue too!  I started laughing and then he smiled, a huge smile.  He has not smiled like this before.  He's sort of half-way smiled, but nothing like this.  It was so fun!  Then I started making noises and clicking my tongue--and he tried to imitate that too!  It was like he was so proud of himself for sticking his tongue out and gave a big grin!  So, after a long night and difficult day, I was in love with the little dude.  I love him more everyday it seems--can hardly stand to be away from him.  Crazy kinda love...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2826920060238273565?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2826920060238273565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2826920060238273565' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2826920060238273565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2826920060238273565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/crazy-kinda-love.html' title='Crazy Kinda Love'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQp2GGEm0YI/AAAAAAAAAIU/FvVPyr2Qxi4/s72-c/IMG_0142.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-1001651228703507318</id><published>2008-10-27T10:37:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T11:00:31.984-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spaceship</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQXjTlVQlAI/AAAAAAAAAIE/q9W_jtxR8Ew/s1600-h/DSCN1552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQXjTlVQlAI/AAAAAAAAAIE/q9W_jtxR8Ew/s320/DSCN1552.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261861665230590978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what we have renamed the blinged out, sup'ed up pimped swing that our friend Holly let us borrow.  It swings back and forth as well as side to side from slow to really fast (I'd for sure get sick if you put me in this), has a rotating mobile above, lights in a mini-aquarium, music from lullibies to Canon in D (seriously), and white noise soothing music (ocean waves, running stream, rainforrest)!  I mean, what else can you ask for?  It puts Q to sleep and I like that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-1001651228703507318?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/1001651228703507318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=1001651228703507318' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1001651228703507318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1001651228703507318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/spaceship.html' title='Spaceship'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQXjTlVQlAI/AAAAAAAAAIE/q9W_jtxR8Ew/s72-c/DSCN1552.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8329422437865033027</id><published>2008-10-27T09:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T10:55:51.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ONE Month</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQXaKNq8dnI/AAAAAAAAAH8/D680oPs7lV0/s1600-h/IMG_0149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQXaKNq8dnI/AAAAAAAAAH8/D680oPs7lV0/s320/IMG_0149.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261851608655623794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe that my baby is one month old.  Actually, he is more than one month, but I'm behind on posting!  In one month, he has gained one lb from his birth weight, and grown one and a half inch!  He weighs 8.7lbs which is in the 25th percentile for weight.  He measures at 21.5 inches, in the 50th percentile for height, up from 20 inches at birth.  He has gone from newborn size diapers to size 1.  He is still tiny but growing lots!  Quincy is more fun now that he can follow you with his eyes and respond (sort of) to your face and voice.  Newborn clothes are getting tight.  Now I understand what everyone was talking about when they said, "they grow up so fast".  I saw a 5-day old baby yesterday and a baby tonight that was less than 24 hours old...it made me feel like Q was already grown!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are getting into more of a routine and getting more sleep, yeeeeahhh!  We are giving Quincy a bath between 7-9, attempting to establish a pattern to communicate to him, "now we sleep for a long time".  He is really doing well, on average, sleeping between 4-7 hours after we put him down at night.  John and I are rotating nights so at least one of us is getting uninterrupted sleep every other night.  Q wakes up between 2-4am and then between 6-8am.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that we are both feeling much better about taking care of the little guy.  We pretty much know what cry means what.  He cries mostly when he is hungry, dirty, tummy ache, tired, or his pacifier falls out of his mouth (in the picture he was dirty, tired, hungry, and the pacifier fell out of his mouth----if I'm going to post this before the 2 month update then I'll have to use the crying pic, besides it really depicts much of our first month as we were trying to figure out the reasons he would cry).  If we could invent something to keep that pacifier in, we'd make our millions!  He is so soothed by sucking.  He also likes to be held really close and tight to your chest.  I love this.  It does get tiring after a while though, he prefers to be held.  We've read and been told by our pediatrician that we can't spoil him at this age and we should respond to his needs, no matter what they are.  Oh, and just pretend that you read this blog a few weeks ago, when Q was actually one month old, and when I started this entry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQXkAF72FLI/AAAAAAAAAIM/A1GI04VprF8/s1600-h/IMG_0124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQXkAF72FLI/AAAAAAAAAIM/A1GI04VprF8/s320/IMG_0124.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261862429896610994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8329422437865033027?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8329422437865033027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8329422437865033027' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8329422437865033027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8329422437865033027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-month.html' title='ONE Month'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SQXaKNq8dnI/AAAAAAAAAH8/D680oPs7lV0/s72-c/IMG_0149.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3044992265564731281</id><published>2008-10-19T11:38:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T22:38:09.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'>High Heels</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPv8_19HQNI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Ngb9PhbntcY/s1600-h/IMG_0140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPv8_19HQNI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Ngb9PhbntcY/s320/IMG_0140.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259075163630551250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to think of myself as a practical person.  Sure I do lots of impractical things, but most of the time, I choose practical ways of doing things, I think.  Most of you know I'm not the most graceful person.  I can be walking on a flat sidewalk, no drop-offs or obstacles in the way, while wearing tennis shoes and somehow manage to fall.  Over nothing!  Pretty embarassing.  Add in any other factors like rain or actual drop-offs or wearing some sort of tricky shoe and I'm sure to be eating pavement.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and husband make fun of me for the way  that I walk in high heels.  I admit, I feel awkward.  The thing is, if I buy a heel that won't slip off my feet then they are waaay too tight.  If I get a heel that actually fits and then attempt to walk in it, my heel slips out every step and that makes it even harder to walk gracefully.  I haven't fallen in heels before, but that is only because I have a death grip on John.  I usually return home, cursing myself for wearing heels.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after having Quincy I've decided to become even more of a practical person.  I want to dress in jeans/tshirt/converse all the time now!  So when I get pooed on, peed on, spit up on, no big deal.  No ironing, no thinking of what to wear.  And less chance of hurting myself and Q by walking in high heels!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I will relapse at times only to remember the pain of heels, curse, and return to the practical.  I made this decision to "go practical" after wearing heels to a wedding yesterday.  John was with me, so he helped me carry Quincy or otherwise there would have been disaster.  So, next time you see me and I'm dressed like a bum, remember that "she is so practical"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3044992265564731281?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3044992265564731281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3044992265564731281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3044992265564731281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3044992265564731281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/high-heels.html' title='High Heels'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPv8_19HQNI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Ngb9PhbntcY/s72-c/IMG_0140.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-9206742603820424512</id><published>2008-10-14T16:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T09:30:57.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TEX</title><content type='html'>Yes.  Tex.  As in Texas.  The state, the big, masculine span of land next to Arkansas.  This is what Anna Christina Telford Cording, also known as John's sister, wants Quincy to call her.  Not Aunt Chris or Auntie, but Tex.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tex lives in Virginia and grew up in Texas.  She is and always will be a Texan by heart.  I do have to remind her, and quite often, that she was born in the great state of Arkansas.  Land of Opportunity.  The Natural State.  WhhoooooPigsSuuuiee!  Go Hogs Go!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tex flew in on October 4 and stayed for 10 days.  We want to hire her on as a nanny!  She cooked, cleaned, babysat, worked at John's office, filled our cars with gas, gave us Target gift cards, gave us Kroger gift cards, and oh even the world wide web isn't big enough to list all the things that she bought for her nephew!  She even sent us on a date with her credit card!  How is that for awesome sister-in-law?  So, I think that I'll abide by her wishes and call her Tex.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of her and Q.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPihAtHtPoI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-KWH9EMRz1Y/s1600-h/DSCN0253.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPihAtHtPoI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-KWH9EMRz1Y/s320/DSCN0253.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258129598439046786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-9206742603820424512?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/9206742603820424512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=9206742603820424512' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9206742603820424512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/9206742603820424512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/tex.html' title='TEX'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPihAtHtPoI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-KWH9EMRz1Y/s72-c/DSCN0253.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2714436332025192434</id><published>2008-10-11T11:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T11:43:46.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Tear</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPDXhKRLgxI/AAAAAAAAAHY/5qkUz1BLtiU/s1600-h/DSCN1507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPDXhKRLgxI/AAAAAAAAAHY/5qkUz1BLtiU/s320/DSCN1507.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255937729833435922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPDXhXEViqI/AAAAAAAAAHg/aZtkmvIZXNk/s1600-h/DSCN1497.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPDXhXEViqI/AAAAAAAAAHg/aZtkmvIZXNk/s320/DSCN1497.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255937733269228194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy has for sure cried everyday and every night since he arrived.  However, he has not cried tears...until yesterday.  His fits have been mostly over a dirty diaper, the changing of a dirty diaper, and not being given food quickly enough.  He is known for pooping in a diaper on the changing table, before it is even all the way on him.  Yesterday he pooped so much that he got a diaper rash.  He didn't like that at all.  So, between being changed so often and then getting hungry, he cried his first tear.  It broke my heart.  Somehow tears seem to validate the crying much much more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2714436332025192434?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2714436332025192434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2714436332025192434' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2714436332025192434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2714436332025192434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/first-tear.html' title='The First Tear'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SPDXhKRLgxI/AAAAAAAAAHY/5qkUz1BLtiU/s72-c/DSCN1507.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4583757391781399942</id><published>2008-10-10T17:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T11:49:00.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It Is Official...</title><content type='html'>I'm a mother.  I mean, most of you already know this fact, but today, it hit me.  I was watching Quincy sleep and realized that he had a booger in his nose.  I picked it and then wiped it on my pants.  Yep.  Gross, I know.  But what do ya do?  I mean, I couldn't exactly get up and get a Kleenex and tell him to blow.  So, I just took care of the problem myself.  He could breathe better and so could I.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also realized that I'm a mother in the fact that I really want to protect my child.  Yes, from all the horrible things out there, but also from embarrassment.  I'm afraid that with my mother in law and sister in law here, this isn't going to be able to be avoided though.  They are already planning a photo session for him for the fall.  They actually want to put my baby in a cornucopia.  That is like abuse.  I mean, therapy for a lifetime after something like this happens.  I should protect him from this right?  Unfortunately, there are two of them and one of me.  I've already apologized immensely to Quincy.  As long as he knows that I tried to protect him.  I mean, a cornucopia?  So very sorry Q.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4583757391781399942?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4583757391781399942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4583757391781399942' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4583757391781399942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4583757391781399942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/it-is-official.html' title='It Is Official...'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-6195608776400365599</id><published>2008-10-09T14:46:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T14:54:22.282-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Question... Bad Parents?  You be the judge...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Lu8ZacWgZpg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Lu8ZacWgZpg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silly Dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-John&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-6195608776400365599?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/6195608776400365599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=6195608776400365599' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6195608776400365599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6195608776400365599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/question-bad-parents-you-be-judge.html' title='Question... Bad Parents?  You be the judge...'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-6958119448886462852</id><published>2008-10-06T01:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T09:16:13.535-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOzAkq1hmZI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/9NsHvHSfya8/s1600-h/IMG_0114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOzAkq1hmZI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/9NsHvHSfya8/s320/IMG_0114.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254786601441139090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the feeling of a baby's soft skin and the smell of a baby.  And, when he is yours and snuggly, ah, the best ever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-6958119448886462852?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/6958119448886462852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=6958119448886462852' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6958119448886462852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6958119448886462852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-baby.html' title='My Baby'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOzAkq1hmZI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/9NsHvHSfya8/s72-c/IMG_0114.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3241392161166494744</id><published>2008-10-06T00:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T01:08:27.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>490 Hours?</title><content type='html'>I have become addicted to the Discovery Health channel lately.  I think that this started while I was pregnant because they have lots of shows that deal with pregnancy and childbirth, so I was fascinated.  We watch this channel all the time.  Tonight there was a show called "Body In Numbers" where different body functions are broken down into numbers.  It is a really cool show.  They talk about how many cells you have and how many cells that die and are replaced in a given amount of time.  They talk about how much blood your heart pumps a day, how much urine you produce while in utero, and on and on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that infants poop about 89lbs of poop in the first year of life?  That hit home.  Lots of pee pee too.  But, this was difficult to hear...the average infant spends 490 hours during the first year of his life doing what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crying.  Yep.  Crying.  John and I looked at each other and guess what?  We started to cry too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOmrKHauhSI/AAAAAAAAAHI/xPXNtgRtCqs/s1600-h/IMG_0111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOmrKHauhSI/AAAAAAAAAHI/xPXNtgRtCqs/s320/IMG_0111.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253918630582584610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3241392161166494744?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3241392161166494744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3241392161166494744' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3241392161166494744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3241392161166494744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/490-hours.html' title='490 Hours?'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOmrKHauhSI/AAAAAAAAAHI/xPXNtgRtCqs/s72-c/IMG_0111.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-7223820747628921201</id><published>2008-10-06T00:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T00:55:14.818-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Night Is Day, Day Is Night</title><content type='html'>Everyone talks about how with newborns you get the nights and days mixed up...and I just realized that has happened to us.  It is 12:30am and I was trying to think about what I wanted for dinner, yes dinner.  So I started to think about the day and realized that I had lunch around 4pm, breakfast at say 11am, and my midnight snack was around 7am this morning.  How is that for backwards?  I never said that I was normal!  Now that I've had dinner and fed Quincy, I think that I will go to bed myself only to start the cycle of reversed living again in a few hours!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-7223820747628921201?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/7223820747628921201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=7223820747628921201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7223820747628921201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7223820747628921201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/night-is-day-day-is-night.html' title='Night Is Day, Day Is Night'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-5499871484578023171</id><published>2008-10-04T13:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T13:05:28.491-05:00</updated><title type='text'>new videos up on our photo gallery</title><content type='html'>http://gallery.me.com/jftelford&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-John&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-5499871484578023171?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/5499871484578023171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=5499871484578023171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5499871484578023171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/5499871484578023171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-videos-up-on-our-photo-gallery.html' title='new videos up on our photo gallery'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4905847706680008415</id><published>2008-10-04T11:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T11:43:21.565-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Oh Where?</title><content type='html'>did September go?  I just don't even remember the month starting, ending, or much less even living during it.  I do remember one day, and quite vividly.  September 14.  Quincy's birth date.  Now that was a wild day.  I remember that one, some parts more than others, and some parts I wish I could forget.  All in all, an awesome day though.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I started the month off very pregnant and very excited that the month had finally arrived.  I was working full time to help cover for a vacationing employee at work.  Not a good time to try and work full time.  But, thankfully, I HAVE THE BEST CO-WORKERS EVER, and was able to manage close to full time employment.  The vacationing coworker was to return on Wednesday, and that morning, my body kind of quit on me.  It refused to do any more work.  I called in and told my boss that I'd let him know something on Friday after my OB doctors visit.  Saturday I went into labor and Quincy was born on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I know that I sort of blocked out the first part of the month because I was miserably pregnant and working a lot, trying to survive.  Then, after Quincy came the sleep deprivation started and I can blame my lack of memory on that!  But anyway, where did the month go?  Kind of like me wondering where the day went when it is time for John to be home at 6pm and I'm still in my pj's wondering why it takes more than 12 hours to attempt to get a shower.  Forget fixing the hair, putting on makeup, or changing into anything else except now a clean pair of pj's.  A pair that doesn't have spit-up, breast milk, blood, sweat, and tears on it.  Literally.  And many other things that I won't mention.  Ugh.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it is October, and I've sort of missed a month out of this year.  Hopefully this month will bring more of a routine to the madness, and I will remember it!  I know that I'm going to remember this day.  I got up and completed all of the things that I had to do, like feed Quincy, pump so John can feed Quincy later, change my pj's, eat breakfast, blogged....and now, the part that I will remember?  John and Quincy are sleeping in our bed together.  It is a rainy Saturday morning.  I'm going to join my family in a warm cozy bed on a Saturday morning.  I will remember this day:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4905847706680008415?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4905847706680008415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4905847706680008415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4905847706680008415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4905847706680008415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/10/where-oh-where.html' title='Where Oh Where?'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-6935996953192998793</id><published>2008-09-29T23:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T23:13:36.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chasing Bunnies</title><content type='html'>Okay, many friends and family members think that I've made this one up.  If so, I'll take credit for it, but I really think that I heard it somewhere.  So, if you've heard of this before, please let me know!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When babies are sleeping and they either whimper or smile as if they are dreaming, I "heard" a story that they are chasing rabbits (when smiling), or getting chased by rabbits (the whimper).  It seems like a very cute, sweet story to me.  When watching little Quincy sleep, I wonder what is making him smile or cry?  I know, its gas.  Very probable, but I actually am sticking to the bunny story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-6935996953192998793?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/6935996953192998793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=6935996953192998793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6935996953192998793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/6935996953192998793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/chasing-bunnies.html' title='Chasing Bunnies'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-7544192197330480180</id><published>2008-09-29T00:37:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T00:48:28.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Aunts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBrK5SCGUI/AAAAAAAAAG4/W88rN6BqCjc/s1600-h/DSCN1440.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBrK5SCGUI/AAAAAAAAAG4/W88rN6BqCjc/s320/DSCN1440.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251315000433318210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week my aunts, Linda and Lucy, came to meet their great nephew.  After only a few wrong turns, they arrived at the condo.  When the 3 sisters get together, it feels like you are in the middle of a circus!  We had fun and Quincy went on his first big outing.  It was very nice to have 3 helpers and i don't know how I will manage getting that bulky car seat in and out of the car over and over again.  Not to mention making sure that I didn't lock my keys in the car and had the diaper bag, my wallet, cell phone.  I mean, we might become hermits.  I was thankful for my helpers that day though!  We went to eat at Mimi's Cafe and then to visit dad at his office.  It was a fun day, but I was absolutely worn out after only about 3 hours.  So was Quincy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBrmZC2f_I/AAAAAAAAAHA/-0Vg7l7pbY8/s1600-h/DSCN1446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBrmZC2f_I/AAAAAAAAAHA/-0Vg7l7pbY8/s320/DSCN1446.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251315472816046066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-7544192197330480180?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/7544192197330480180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=7544192197330480180' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7544192197330480180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7544192197330480180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/great-aunts.html' title='The Great Aunts'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBrK5SCGUI/AAAAAAAAAG4/W88rN6BqCjc/s72-c/DSCN1440.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2866994087390610092</id><published>2008-09-29T00:14:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T00:36:52.967-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Final Attachment</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBpGhpDiEI/AAAAAAAAAGo/hwdFUW3LSBo/s1600-h/DSCN1449.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBpGhpDiEI/AAAAAAAAAGo/hwdFUW3LSBo/s320/DSCN1449.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251312726344697922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight Quincy's umbilical cord (what was left of it) fell off.  Sad.  Really, I didn't think that I would be missing pregnancy, but I am.  Not the negative parts, but I do miss having Quincy all to myself.  Something about sharing him with the world and it not being just our connection anymore makes me a little sad.  The umbilical cord was kind of the last part of me left on him...silly, I know, but it is how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John can attest to the fact that my feelings aren't always rational, especially in the last few weeks!  I am proud to report that his aren't either though.  He had his first meltdown this weekend.  Sorry babe for announcing it to the world, but it does make me feel better!  We are actually adjusting well, I think.  The most difficult part for us is the sleep deprivation.  We both require more than 8 hours of sleep a night, so the broken few hours that we do get isn't really cutting it.  I guess there is not much that we can do though.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quincy is growing fast, another thing already making me sad!  He eats very well and that is draining me, but I'm happy to try and keep up.  He seems really strong.  I haven't had much experience with newborns, so he may be "normal", but he seems abnormally strong to me.  He actually rolled over by himself 4 times this weekend!  Coincidence?  I think not!  He flails about when he is mad and can throw some mean punches and kicks.  I'm glad that others are getting to experience what my poor internal organs had to endure for 10 months!  Well, it is 12:30am and Q is down, so I'm going to "sleep when he sleeps" now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBpHJ3143I/AAAAAAAAAGw/fRHu5PKYc7c/s1600-h/DSCN1428.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBpHJ3143I/AAAAAAAAAGw/fRHu5PKYc7c/s320/DSCN1428.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251312737144136562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love to all-------&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2866994087390610092?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2866994087390610092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2866994087390610092' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2866994087390610092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2866994087390610092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/final-attachment.html' title='The Final Attachment'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SOBpGhpDiEI/AAAAAAAAAGo/hwdFUW3LSBo/s72-c/DSCN1449.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-8088237005655338458</id><published>2008-09-28T11:20:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T21:50:33.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Pictures up on our Gallery</title><content type='html'>Visit the link below for more pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gallery.me.com/jftelford&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-8088237005655338458?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/8088237005655338458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=8088237005655338458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8088237005655338458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/8088237005655338458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-pictures-up-on-our-gallery.html' title='New Pictures up on our Gallery'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-7180379340499181183</id><published>2008-09-22T21:14:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T21:41:45.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No Way To Describe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNhXHXqCUXI/AAAAAAAAAGY/2Le2FKk0daY/s1600-h/babe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNhXHXqCUXI/AAAAAAAAAGY/2Le2FKk0daY/s320/babe.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249041149821342066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been in a bubble with my new baby and hubby and loved it!  I wish I could stay here forever.  Unfortunately, I have to come out and return to the world.  I've sort of been procrastinating about blogging because I can't possibly begin to describe the past week of my life.  There isn't any possible way to even begin to explain how wonderfully awesome, fascinating, amazing the experience of having a baby is.  So, I'm just not even going to attempt.  We will continue to post pics to the online gallery, probably daily, we just can't help ourselves.  Thank you to all for the wonderful meals, visits, gifts, cards, calls, prayers, and love!  Life is good, and God has blessed us a million times over and we are so undeserving...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-7180379340499181183?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/7180379340499181183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=7180379340499181183' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7180379340499181183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/7180379340499181183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/no-way-to-describe.html' title='No Way To Describe...'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNhXHXqCUXI/AAAAAAAAAGY/2Le2FKk0daY/s72-c/babe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-698151107799357620</id><published>2008-09-18T01:21:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T06:27:23.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All Those Who'd like to See pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNI5ii4smpI/AAAAAAAAAGA/MdbKdt1T8LQ/s1600-h/hug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNI5ii4smpI/AAAAAAAAAGA/MdbKdt1T8LQ/s320/hug.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247319781482994322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hugs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNI5ih8JdJI/AAAAAAAAAGI/xfh-RXIi77c/s1600-h/feet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNI5ih8JdJI/AAAAAAAAAGI/xfh-RXIi77c/s320/feet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247319781229032594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;foot as big as femur?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNI5iz-wyxI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/UV-nRyG00lg/s1600-h/Fist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNI5iz-wyxI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/UV-nRyG00lg/s320/Fist.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247319786071837458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mastered the art of kung-foo at such an early age...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a reminder that we upload photos to our online photo gallery periodically.  The link is located to the right side of your screen and will remain there above my agency website.  Here it is for those who'd rather not scroll down.  http://gallery.me.com/jftelford&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://gallery.me.com/jftelford"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Molly's doing great with all the new experiences.  Breast feeding is a real challenge, but she's giving a huge effort with relatively few "melt downs" as she so lovingly calls them.  Her milk is coming in now and it should get easier.  She's in a lot of pain from the birth itself, but also from her apesiatomy stitches (I know, too much info), swollen legs and feet, and ever more sore milk factories.  Anyway, I'll put a few pics on this page just for giggles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-John&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-698151107799357620?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/698151107799357620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=698151107799357620' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/698151107799357620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/698151107799357620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/all-those-whod-like-to-see-pics.html' title='All Those Who&apos;d like to See pics'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SNI5ii4smpI/AAAAAAAAAGA/MdbKdt1T8LQ/s72-c/hug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-2354098093671361381</id><published>2008-09-14T21:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T21:12:54.217-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quincy has arrived</title><content type='html'>7 lbs. 7 oz. 2:20pm 20 inches.  Unexpected, strawberry blonde hair&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-2354098093671361381?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/2354098093671361381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=2354098093671361381' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2354098093671361381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/2354098093671361381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/quincy-has-arrived.html' title='Quincy has arrived'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-1733730646976198218</id><published>2008-09-14T11:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T11:29:47.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>almost here!</title><content type='html'>ETA 6 or 7 pm.  Sorry about the feedblitz info delay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-1733730646976198218?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/1733730646976198218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=1733730646976198218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1733730646976198218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/1733730646976198218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/almost-here.html' title='almost here!'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-4773618932264814660</id><published>2008-09-14T01:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T01:46:14.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Q's almost here!</title><content type='html'>The inventor of the epidural's a hero to the Telford clan right about now. Molly's sleeping now. We'll keep ya posted.  -john&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-4773618932264814660?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/4773618932264814660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=4773618932264814660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4773618932264814660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/4773618932264814660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/qs-almost-here.html' title='Q&apos;s almost here!'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1415271690459858778.post-3295219804576752390</id><published>2008-09-11T09:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T09:29:01.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Within The Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SMvOD2p6wbI/AAAAAAAAAFo/wjwm6ume3cE/s1600-h/IMG_0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SMvOD2p6wbI/AAAAAAAAAFo/wjwm6ume3cE/s320/IMG_0026.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245512756609335730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SMvOEOu6IwI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ss3W97ffstc/s1600-h/IMG_0042_1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SMvOEOu6IwI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ss3W97ffstc/s320/IMG_0042_1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245512763072717570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we are "those" people.  The ones who cry wolf.  We went to the hospital again yesterday.  I knew that I was not in labor but I was having some issues that I wanted my doc to check out.  Since she was out of the office and the other docs had a full schedule, they just told me to go to labor and delivery to be checked out there.  You for sure get a more thorough check there anyway.  It was really good because I was able to watch my contractions on the screen and get some sort of feel for how they were supposed to be.  I was having lots of contractions that I didn't even know about.  This was on Wednesday, and I was still 2cm, but 90% effaced.  I'm also at a -1 station.  The labor and delivery nurse said that she thought that I would be in labor within a week easily.  She also said that Quincy is all big, my tummy is all baby.  She guesses that he weighs 8.5-9lbs.  That sort of worries me.  I'm not working at this point, which is good for my body but not my mind.  I've slept most days and I know that this is good, but I feel like a prisioner in my house.  Everytime we try to get out though, I want to come back home.  Last Sunday, we went to Sonic for our big outing and we hadn't even gotten our drinks and I was ready to be back home.  Sad really.  Yesterday we had the regular OB appointment with not much new to report.  I'm a "loose" 2cm dilated and 95% effaced.  The doctor said repeatedly that this is a great place to start labor.  I'm not really sure what she is meaning by this, but I'm all for starting labor anytime now.  Hopefully I can post a blog picture of little man Q very soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1415271690459858778-3295219804576752390?l=babytelford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/feeds/3295219804576752390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1415271690459858778&amp;postID=3295219804576752390' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3295219804576752390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1415271690459858778/posts/default/3295219804576752390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babytelford.blogspot.com/2008/09/within-week.html' title='Within The Week'/><author><name>Molly &amp;amp;  John Telford</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06225427506813488237</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/S1fOicSlA8I/AAAAAAAAAt8/15DAH-0Dno4/S220/DSC06762.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hWjjALy1EWs/SMvOD2p6wbI/AAAAAAAAAFo/wjwm6ume3cE/s72-c/IMG_0026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
