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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/rss.xsl" media="screen"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/" xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"><channel><title>Minivan Momma</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/default.aspx</link><description>...Looking at life through the rear-view mirror of a Minivan!</description><dc:language>en-US</dc:language><generator>CommunityServer 2.0 (Build: 60217.2664)</generator><item><title>Of Mice &amp;amp; Men</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/03/07/4315673.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 08 Mar 2010 01:56:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4315673</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4315673.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4315673</wfw:commentRss><description>As often happens during the winter, critters move inside.&amp;nbsp; And our house may as well have a flashing Vacancy sign over the roof! &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;All winter long, we’ve shared a house with a mouse.&amp;nbsp; A pregnant mouse.&amp;nbsp; We know she was pregnant because about a week after we discovered she had eaten through a half of a loaf of bread, we discovered her babies!&amp;nbsp; 
The daughters were very generous – albeit unknowingly – and fed the little mouse family with their crumbs and morsels and crusts...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/03/07/4315673.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4315673" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>50 / 50</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/02/28/4314335.aspx</link><pubDate>Sun, 28 Feb 2010 22:58:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4314335</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4314335.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4314335</wfw:commentRss><description>
The Dad and I are equal partners in our relationship.&amp;nbsp; We always have been and I foresee that we always will be.&amp;nbsp; We have one checking account that we each share equal responsibility with.&amp;nbsp; While I cook dinners, he’s in charge of breakfasts and lunches.&amp;nbsp; Please – don’t say, “WAIT!&amp;nbsp; That’s two meals!”&amp;nbsp; Because by breakfast, I mean the unwrapping of a cereal bar. And by lunch I mean a yogurt, cheese stick and box of raisins tossed into a sack.&amp;nbsp; If he has extra time,...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/02/28/4314335.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4314335" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>Home Alone</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/02/21/4312559.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 22 Feb 2010 02:29:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4312559</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4312559.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4312559</wfw:commentRss><description>
Contrary to what the title suggests, I have not been graced with any alone time at my own home.&amp;nbsp; You’ll know when this happens because you’ll experience the sigh heard round the world, right before I stretch across the entire bed and snooze!
&amp;nbsp;
No… No time alone for me.&amp;nbsp; See, Daughter 1 has been sick.&amp;nbsp; She woke me up about midnight telling me that her tummy hurt.&amp;nbsp; She had already sat on the toilet for 24 minutes (she’s a bit obsessive like that, so I believe she really...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/02/21/4312559.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4312559" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>Valentine's Gas</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/02/14/4308673.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 15 Feb 2010 03:59:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4308673</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4308673.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4308673</wfw:commentRss><description>The first Valentine’s Day The Dad and I spent as a married couple found me without a voice.&amp;nbsp; 
&amp;nbsp;
Do you hear that? &amp;nbsp;All the other Dads out there are saying, “Wow!&amp;nbsp; How’d he score that??!?&amp;nbsp; No nagging about the lack of flowers and chocolate.&amp;nbsp; A DAY OF SILENCE FROM HIS WIFE?&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He’s one lucky man!”
&amp;nbsp;
And let me just stop that particular little story right there and say, “Hardy-har-har!”
&amp;nbsp;
Let me also say that The Dad is not a traditional Valentine’s...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/02/14/4308673.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4308673" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>Par-TAY!</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/02/07/4304116.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 08 Feb 2010 02:59:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4304116</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4304116.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4304116</wfw:commentRss><description>Daughter 2 FINALLY finished her birthday celebration this weekend and all I have to say about that is Whew!
&amp;nbsp;
I do this to myself every year.&amp;nbsp; Daughter 1 celebrates her birthday right before Christmas and Daughter 2 celebrates right after Christmas.&amp;nbsp; So, from November to February we do nothing but celebrate!&amp;nbsp; And as soon as Daughter 2’s celebration wraps up, we start planning for the Birthday/Christmas celebration again!&amp;nbsp; (For those of you keeping track, yes… I’m a bit...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/02/07/4304116.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4304116" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>Better than a barometer</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/31/4299932.aspx</link><pubDate>Sun, 31 Jan 2010 21:45:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4299932</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4299932.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4299932</wfw:commentRss><description>Even before Al Roker predicted an Arctic Winter Snow Blast for my neck of the woods, I made the call.&amp;nbsp; Keep in mind I have no meteorology training.&amp;nbsp; (Really, I couldn’t even spell it without spell check!)&amp;nbsp; I don’t make it a hobby of studying climate transitions and low pressure systems.&amp;nbsp; I’m more of a high pressure system myself.&amp;nbsp; (Ask The Dad.)&amp;nbsp; I don’t read The Farmer’s Almanac nor do I stalk the weather station at 8:08, 9:08, 10:08 or any other :08 time!&amp;nbsp; I don’t...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/31/4299932.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4299932" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>Not It</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/24/4297628.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 25 Jan 2010 03:41:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4297628</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4297628.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4297628</wfw:commentRss><description>Over Christmas break, The Daughters had several of their friends over quite a few times for “play dates.”&amp;nbsp; I love play dates.&amp;nbsp; They give The Daughters a chance to play with their friends outside of school.&amp;nbsp; They get to play games that require more than 2 players (and none of the players HAVE to be me or The Dad, gah!).&amp;nbsp; They get to make crafts and projects.&amp;nbsp; They get to share jokes and books and riddles.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;They get to be creative and imaginative… They get to have...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/24/4297628.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4297628" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>They Don't Understand</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/18/4296219.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 18 Jan 2010 17:58:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4296219</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>1</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4296219.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4296219</wfw:commentRss><description>
Daughter 1&amp;nbsp;&amp;amp; I (and this year Daughter 2) had this conversation.&amp;nbsp; We've had it almost every year since&amp;nbsp;Daughter 1's started school.&amp;nbsp; It starts with this question:&amp;nbsp; 

Mom?&amp;nbsp; Why is Martin Luther King's birthday a holiday?

Daughter 1&amp;nbsp;(and now Daughter 2) doesn't get that there was a time in this country that we thought of African Americans as inferior human beings.&amp;nbsp; They don't understand that there was a time when they would not have gotten to go to...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/18/4296219.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4296219" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>NEVER!</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/17/4296071.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 18 Jan 2010 03:16:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4296071</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4296071.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4296071</wfw:commentRss><description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I have just returned from my 15th trip into Daughter 1’s room this evening.&amp;nbsp; We put her to bed about 45 minutes ago.&amp;nbsp; The first time she called me back to bring her a glass of water.&amp;nbsp; She’d already had a large glass of water right before she went to bed.&amp;nbsp; I know this for a fact because it was MY large glass of water.&amp;nbsp; I told her no.&amp;nbsp; Goodnight.&amp;nbsp; Sweet dreams.&amp;nbsp; And as I walked out the door she...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/17/4296071.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4296071" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fool Proof</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/03/4290241.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 04 Jan 2010 03:29:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4290241</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4290241.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4290241</wfw:commentRss><description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The Dad &amp;amp; I rang in the New Year with some great friends while the kids played the Wii in the other room. (Santa ROCKS!)&amp;nbsp; And as we bid our friends a “Happy New Year” with kisses and hugs all around at about 12:13 (because we lost all track of time playing Battle of the Sexes), one of my friends dared to utter those dreaded words:&amp;nbsp; What are your New Years Resolutions?
&amp;nbsp;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2010/01/03/4290241.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4290241" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>Christmas Morning Conversation</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/12/27/4288222.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 03:10:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4288222</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4288222.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4288222</wfw:commentRss><description>The following is an actual transcript of a conversation that happened at our house on Christmas morning:
&amp;nbsp;
Daughter 1:&amp;nbsp; {in an excited but hushed tone} Momma!&amp;nbsp; Momma!
&amp;nbsp;
Me:&amp;nbsp; {in a mumbled, half asleep grumbly, mumbly mumble} Wha--??
&amp;nbsp;
Daughter 1:&amp;nbsp; Momma!
&amp;nbsp;
Me:&amp;nbsp; Say --- Wha --- ?&amp;nbsp; Who ---??!!?
&amp;nbsp;
Daughter 1:&amp;nbsp; It’s me, Momma!&amp;nbsp; Daughter 1, Momma!&amp;nbsp; Are you awake?
&amp;nbsp;
Me:&amp;nbsp; O. M. G!&amp;nbsp; {really, I said “O. M. G.”&amp;nbsp;...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/12/27/4288222.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4288222" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>My REAL Grown Up Christmas List</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/12/21/4283834.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 21 Dec 2009 23:50:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4283834</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4283834.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4283834</wfw:commentRss><description>&amp;nbsp;
Several years ago, Natalie Cole – in what must have been a collaborative effort with Miss America-wannabes – released a Christmas song called, “A Grown Up Christmas List.”&amp;nbsp; I adored this song.&amp;nbsp; I thought the message was well thought out and spoke to the universal heart of every person who had ears to hear.&amp;nbsp; “No more lives torn apart!&amp;nbsp; Wars would never start!&amp;nbsp; Time would heal all hearts!”&amp;nbsp; Honestly, there’s no more sincere prayer out there than this of Natalie’s!...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/12/21/4283834.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4283834" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>Merry Christmas!  You're not Mother of the Year!</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/12/13/4281111.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 14 Dec 2009 04:58:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4281111</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4281111.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4281111</wfw:commentRss><description>I love my cousin Whitty&amp;nbsp; dearly.&amp;nbsp; She’s a lot of fun to hang out with and we always end up laughing… Mostly I’m laughing AT her, let’s be clear on that point, but we’re laughing none the less.
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; 
Whitty has three boys:&amp;nbsp; A pair of twins (set of twins?&amp;nbsp; Two twins … would that be four?) … ANYWAY, twin boys who were born one year after Daughter 1 and an ornery little booger born one year after Daughter 2.&amp;nbsp; This...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/12/13/4281111.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4281111" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>It's a wrap</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/12/06/4276800.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 07 Dec 2009 04:41:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4276800</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4276800.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4276800</wfw:commentRss><description>

I’m a night owl.&amp;nbsp; Plain and simple:&amp;nbsp; If the world would start at around 11:30 and let me sleep in until about 10:30, I’d be one happy momma.&amp;nbsp; I’d stay up late and do my thing and life would be good… assuming that The Daughters still go to bed at 8:00, of course, and then sleep for 14 hours.&amp;nbsp; Life would be GRAND!!
&amp;nbsp;
I do my best work late at night.&amp;nbsp; This is not just because I’m a momma and it’s the best time for me to get stuff done without wiping snot or refereeing...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/12/06/4276800.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4276800" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item><item><title>DECKing Our Halls!</title><link>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/11/29/4272793.aspx</link><pubDate>Sun, 29 Nov 2009 23:54:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">f61b1d30-0d5e-4b76-8e3c-4f31df938851:4272793</guid><dc:creator>MinivanMomma2</dc:creator><slash:comments>0</slash:comments><comments>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/comments/4272793.aspx</comments><wfw:commentRss>http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/commentrss.aspx?PostID=4272793</wfw:commentRss><description>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I let the Turkey Day have it’s 24 hours of glory and then I break out the dozens – no, hundreds – of Rubbermaid boxes that hold my most precious items (please, don’t call Human Services; The Daughters haven’t been kept in Rubbermaid boxes since they started school!):&amp;nbsp; I get out my Christmas decorations!&amp;nbsp; 
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; 
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Each...(&lt;a href="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/blogs/minivan_momma/archive/2009/11/29/4272793.aspx"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;img src="http://community.bartlesvillelive.com/aggbug.aspx?PostID=4272793" width="1" height="1"&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>