<?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-13759373</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:41:56.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Malora</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-114040185839033969</id><published>2006-02-19T18:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-19T18:17:38.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sick sick sick</title><content type='html'>Noah has been feeling under the weather of sorts for the last few days. I hate it when he is sick, but I am so glad that I am here to look after him. I love to try and make him feel better and watch over him. I wish that I was sick instead of him. I have never really felt like that before. I think that is how God feels about me, and he did take the ultimate death and pain away from me. I find that I just want more and more from him though and I am never really satisfied. I want to be healthy now... I don't want hard times... I always read in the Bible that followers of Christ would have hard times but I never really thought I would have hard times. And now that I am having hard times I am kicking and screaming like a spoiled brat that this is not what I had in mind. This is not my way. What am I learning from this? I have no clue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-114040185839033969?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/114040185839033969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=114040185839033969' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/114040185839033969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/114040185839033969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2006/02/sick-sick-sick.html' title='sick sick sick'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-113950420672864363</id><published>2006-02-09T08:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T08:56:46.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tai Chi in the morning</title><content type='html'>Noah, Buster and I had such a lovely walk this morning. It was overcast and just perfect weather as far as I am concerned. I have been so pesimistic lately and this morning I think that I was starting to see the beauty in life and nature again.&lt;br /&gt;There was this elderly man doing Tai Chi in the park where I was walking and I was thinking how liberating that must feel to just do your exercises in public and not give a care if people are staring at you (which I was, staring at him, but I thought it was beautiful and I couldn't look away).&lt;br /&gt;All in all, a good start to my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-113950420672864363?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/113950420672864363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=113950420672864363' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/113950420672864363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/113950420672864363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2006/02/tai-chi-in-morning.html' title='Tai Chi in the morning'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-113926323730646644</id><published>2006-02-06T13:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T14:01:20.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodwill to all</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I just love the Goodwill lately. Yesterday we went there and I found four shirts that all fit quite nicely. I usually never have luck finding things but yesterday I hit the jackpot. And all that for a mere $9. We went to the one on Alma School and Ray-ish- I definitely recommend it (thanks Jamie).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-113926323730646644?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/113926323730646644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=113926323730646644' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/113926323730646644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/113926323730646644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2006/02/goodwill-to-all.html' title='Goodwill to all'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-113898921737361355</id><published>2006-02-03T09:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T09:53:37.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Swan Lake</title><content type='html'>I went to Swan Lake the other night with Stacy and Jamie. It was a lot different than I had pictured. It was kinda like swan lake remix. There was a bar called SWANk and a cell phone rang in the middle of the characters watching another ballet in the ballet. The most interesting and confusing part was that the Prince wanted to be a swan and then he falls in love with the main hairy swan. Then he sees the swan at a party, but now he is a guy not a swan but the Prince recognizes the guy as looking like the swan. how can a guy look like a swan? In the end it looks like the swans kill the prince but I think it is just a metaphor for something. He dies anyway and then the Swan takes him to a better place. A place where men and swans can have real relationships.&lt;br /&gt;This one guy who was walking by our seats said, "Swan Lake is a lot more gay than I remember."&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was a great night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-113898921737361355?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/113898921737361355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=113898921737361355' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/113898921737361355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/113898921737361355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2006/02/swan-lake.html' title='Swan Lake'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112731869049083951</id><published>2005-09-21T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T09:19:12.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ohhhh Canada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/1600/DSC04468.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/320/DSC04468.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/1600/DSC04470.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/320/DSC04470.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/1600/DSC04465.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/1600/DSC04472.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/1600/DSC04473.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/1600/DSC04475.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and dad are here from the great Canadia and I am so excited that we get to hang out with them for two weeks. Last night we went to a DIAMOND BACKS game and it was really quite fun. I always get a little bored in the middle of the game. Does it really need to be NINE inings? REALLY? And I am also so freaked out that I am going to get smacked in the face with a baseball.&lt;br /&gt;All in all we are having a great time together. I hate it that they live so far away, but it is good that they get to come here and visit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112731869049083951?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112731869049083951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112731869049083951' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112731869049083951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112731869049083951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/09/ohhhh-canada.html' title='Ohhhh Canada'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112537769523978585</id><published>2005-08-29T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-29T21:54:55.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Noggin issues</title><content type='html'>The other night Kim Manwaring (a local brain surgeon) stopped by our house to check out the progress on Noah's head. Noah has something called Plagiocephaly (which is a fancy dancy way of saying flat head). Noah is such a good sleeper and has more than 50% REM sleep. In this dream sleep babies are paralized and do not move. Because of this, Noah's head is flat on his left side. We saw our pediatrician a few weeks ago and she was really impressed that Noah's head has really rounded out. She seemed to think that it was all fine and good. BUT, the brain surgeon has a different opinion.&lt;br /&gt;Noah's forehead on the left side has shifted forward and has not gone back enough. The reason why this is concerning is that the forehead affects the growth of the rest of the face.&lt;br /&gt;So, long story short... Noah has to wear a helmet. I was feeling fine with this until I looked on the internet for more information about it. In order to make the helmet, they must make a mold of Noah's head. They have to cast his head and I saw these horific (I am a little melodramatic) pictures of a baby's face covered in plaster with only a little hole for the mouth.  At the sight of this I started crying and crying. It is only for 10 minutes but I am freaked out about it.&lt;br /&gt;Also I read this stupid artical in the PEOPLE magazine about the helmets and they made it out like they were all for cosmetic purposes and parents are going to extremes to make their kids perfect. I don't want to make Noah wear this helmet for FOUR months 23 hours a day if it is not totally necessary. Being a mother is so stressful sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112537769523978585?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112537769523978585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112537769523978585' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112537769523978585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112537769523978585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/08/noggin-issues.html' title='Noggin issues'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112498707606924792</id><published>2005-08-25T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-25T09:24:36.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Noah's little buddy Jesus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/1600/DSC04311.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/320/DSC04311.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom got this little Jesus doll from work for Noah. Jesus Talks and says inspirational things like "your life is so important to me" and "love others as I have loved you." You would think that this would be comforting to a seven month old, but not so with Noah. He started to cry the first time he heard Jesus' words. Slowly he has become friends with the Jesus doll. Hopefully this image of Jesus does not haunt him later in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112498707606924792?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112498707606924792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112498707606924792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112498707606924792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112498707606924792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/08/noahs-little-buddy-jesus.html' title='Noah&apos;s little buddy Jesus'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112498676930721278</id><published>2005-08-25T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-25T09:19:29.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Canadian at heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/1600/DSC04337.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7589/1222/320/DSC04337.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is our little Canadian!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112498676930721278?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112498676930721278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112498676930721278' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112498676930721278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112498676930721278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/08/canadian-at-heart.html' title='Canadian at heart'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112319598833318639</id><published>2005-08-04T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T15:53:08.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FAITH</title><content type='html'>"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Hebrews 11:1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so little faith. For some reason in my mind I always have to think of the worst possible thing that could happen... all the things that could go wrong. I have somehow come to the conclusion in my 24 years of life, it it better to prepare myself for the worst rather than hope for the best. What is it that makes me think so negitively and not have faith for the things in life that I hope for- the things that God has given me a desire for in my heart? I am afraid of disappointment. I don't know why. Is it really that bad to be disappointed? It seems like it would be better to be sure of what I hope for and certain of what I do not see and then, in the event things don't turn out the way that I had hoped, at least I had a positive attitude all the way through the process of hoping.  But then I don't really have faith if I am saying "if things don't turn out the way I hoped."&lt;br /&gt;I am so sick of thinking like this. I desire childlike faith.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112319598833318639?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112319598833318639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112319598833318639' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112319598833318639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112319598833318639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/08/faith.html' title='FAITH'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112207626168044650</id><published>2005-07-22T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T22:54:50.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Golly</title><content type='html'>God has taken us on some crazy journeys the last two years. We may be about to take another one. There is a church in Vancouver Washington that we have been talking to in regards to a youth pastor position. The pastor is a good friend of a good friend of ours named Bill McAlpine. Tammy McAlpine is one of my best friends. So anyway, this church just sounds like it would be really amazing and a great place to grow and learn. Then there is the church in Scottsdale as well which seems really great. We are seeking God's will for us... life is such an adventure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112207626168044650?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112207626168044650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112207626168044650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112207626168044650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112207626168044650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/07/golly.html' title='Golly'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112140295767784580</id><published>2005-07-14T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T21:49:17.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mountains and Valleys</title><content type='html'>Tom had an interview today at Mountain Valley church in Scottsdale. It went really good! I am so excited about the possibility of him working at this cool church. He has missed working with youth and teaching so much in the last few months. I pray that this is the right place for us to be and that God makes it clear as to what He wants.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112140295767784580?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112140295767784580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112140295767784580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112140295767784580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112140295767784580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/07/mountains-and-valleys.html' title='Mountains and Valleys'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112122974677823104</id><published>2005-07-12T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T21:42:26.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/185/6452/640/DSC04175.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/185/6452/400/DSC04175.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no words. Thank you God for our little babe.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112122974677823104?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112122974677823104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112122974677823104' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112122974677823104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112122974677823104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/07/there-are-no-words.html' title=''/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112075185389916266</id><published>2005-07-07T08:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T08:58:26.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Very insightful</title><content type='html'>This was on my starbucks cup. It is "the way I see it #37." I liked it a lot:&lt;br /&gt;Embrace this right now life while it is dripping, while the flavors are excellently woesome. Take your bites with bravery and boldness since the learning and the growing are here in these times, these exact right nows. Capture these times. Hold and kiss them because it will soon be very different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112075185389916266?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112075185389916266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112075185389916266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112075185389916266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112075185389916266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/07/very-insightful.html' title='Very insightful'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112068122044022348</id><published>2005-07-06T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T13:20:20.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I could prance - if I wanted to...</title><content type='html'>I got some medicine yesterday for my joints and I can't believe how good I feel today. It was amazing get out of bed and feel good. I know a lot of people don't like medicine but, I have to be honest, right now I am in love with medicine. I just feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112068122044022348?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112068122044022348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112068122044022348' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112068122044022348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112068122044022348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-could-prance-if-i-wanted-to.html' title='I could prance - if I wanted to...'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-112006790325906538</id><published>2005-06-29T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T10:58:23.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The best of you?</title><content type='html'>Noah is quite taken with the new foo fighters video right now. I am wondering if this means that one day he is going to be a rock star... so many possibilities for our little guy.&lt;br /&gt;I find that when I listen to the foo fighters I like the sound but then by about the middle of the song I just want it to end. They keep on saying the same thing like 700 times and I feel like they could have said what they wanted to say quite easily in a song that was at least a minute shorter.&lt;br /&gt;Eg. Is someone getting the best the best the best of you (repeat 700 times)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-112006790325906538?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/112006790325906538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=112006790325906538' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112006790325906538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/112006790325906538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/06/best-of-you.html' title='The best of you?'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-111999514935034826</id><published>2005-06-28T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T14:45:49.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Cancer</title><content type='html'>Last night I had this terrible dream that I had brain cancer. This doctor scanned my head and said that I had cancer in all four lobes of my brain. I then asked her "is there was any treatment" and she said that she didn't know, but I could tell that she was lying. Then I got this terrible feeling in my stomach that I was going to die. It was awful. I kept waking myself up from the dream b/c I was so upset but then I would fall back into sleep and keep on dreaming about it.&lt;br /&gt;I hate dreams like that. I have been thinking about it all day long now. I can't imagine what it would be like for someone to be told that they are going to die. I know everyone is going to die, but it seems so far off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-111999514935034826?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/111999514935034826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=111999514935034826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111999514935034826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111999514935034826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/06/brain-cancer.html' title='Brain Cancer'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-111949912302224314</id><published>2005-06-22T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-22T20:58:43.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What the heck??</title><content type='html'>ok, I don't know what is going on upstairs NOW but, there is a very LOUD sawing noise coming from up there. Either they are trying to saw through the roof to ajoin our two apartments or they are doing the nasty and the bed is rubbing furiously against the wall. These are the only two things I can think of that could be possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-111949912302224314?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/111949912302224314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=111949912302224314' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111949912302224314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111949912302224314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/06/what-heck.html' title='What the heck??'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-111948856760974104</id><published>2005-06-22T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-22T18:02:47.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Misfortunate Event</title><content type='html'>The other day (Monday) our upstairs neighbours were being so loud (as usual) and I was getting rather annoyed. I had a magic bag in my hand (you know the things that you warm up to put on sore muscles) and I was about to put it in the microwave. I heard another thud from the neighbour and I had had it. I took the magic bag and chucked it at the roof in anger. BUT we have florecent lighing in the kitchen with a plastic covering over the light. The bag hit the plastic causing it to fall down and instead of it hitting the floor and smashing into a million pieces, I caught it with my mouth. Tom came into the room and I had my hand over my mouth, partly in shock of what had just occured and partly b/c my mouth hurt. I took my hand away from my mouth and Tom informed my that it was bleeding. I have three little cuts on my lip now, all b/c of a temper tantrum.&lt;br /&gt;Note: learn a lesson from my misfortune, do not throw magic bags in anger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-111948856760974104?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/111948856760974104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=111948856760974104' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111948856760974104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111948856760974104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/06/misfortunate-event.html' title='The Misfortunate Event'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-111924287330201214</id><published>2005-06-19T21:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-19T21:47:53.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/185/6452/640/collage1.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/185/6452/400/collage1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was Father's Day. We went to Liz and Dick's house and ate dinner with David and Jamie, John, and Jamie's Mom and sister. It was nice. Noah is such an angel. He just hangs out with everyone and there is no fussing and crying, just giggles and smiles. Tom and I are the luckiest parents in all the world. AND, Tom is such a great Dad. I just love watching him with Noah. All in all it was a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-111924287330201214?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/111924287330201214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=111924287330201214' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111924287330201214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111924287330201214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/06/today-was-fathers-day_19.html' title=''/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13759373.post-111905199548421147</id><published>2005-06-17T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T16:46:35.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a blog- and it was so easy</title><content type='html'>The reason I started this blog was so that I could write a comment on Tom's blog. But I had been wondering if I should start one for a while. It is an interesting way to communicate your thoughts without having to say things out loud. This seems like a good thing for me b/c I have a hard time saying things when I am in a group of people (especially American people - no offence to anyone). So here is my blog for better or worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13759373-111905199548421147?l=maloramulhern.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/feeds/111905199548421147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13759373&amp;postID=111905199548421147' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111905199548421147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13759373/posts/default/111905199548421147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maloramulhern.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-have-blog-and-it-was-so-easy.html' title='I have a blog- and it was so easy'/><author><name>Malora</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15345873486390243709</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
