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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;D08HRHY9fCp7ImA9WhRRF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985</id><updated>2011-12-01T10:57:15.864-08:00</updated><category term="accept" /><category term="sad" /><category term="Sacramento Bee" /><category term="elderly son sick nurse old room crowded" /><category term="fish" /><category term="bugs" /><category term="homeless bood published helping kids women men food shelter park" /><category term="caretakers sick son" /><category term="bathtub tub bubbles candles book radio station knock pound yell grumble check" /><category term="Breast cancer walk pink mom losing" /><category term="passionate" /><category term="thanksgiving" /><category term="pedometers exercise tired son steps" /><category term="indoor" /><category term="column" /><category term="leg hair Rockettes" /><category term="lyrics" /><category term="war" /><category term="Loaves and Fishes" /><category term="disease hospital Billie" /><category term="stash" /><category term="chocolate" /><category term="gnats" /><category term="obsession" /><category term="crickets love humor lizard food animals" /><category term="ski" /><category term="family" /><category term="jingle legs hair" /><category term="zombie" /><category term="breast cancer" /><category term="pets" /><category term="myasthenia gravis" /><category term="taco" /><category term="daughter" /><category term="bed" /><category term="catnip" /><category term="skis" /><category term="kids" /><category term="humor" /><category term="halloween" /><category term="black widow spiders married marriage friends" /><category term="rotting" /><category term="walk" /><category term="pregnant" /><category term="tall women commerical" /><category term="diet food jeans dryer washer pizza" /><category term="dogs" /><category term="bite" /><category term="holiday" /><category term="snowmen" /><category term="quarters" /><category term="cats" /><category term="juvenile diabetes walk" /><category term="water heartless" /><category term="normal" /><category term="raincoat" /><category term="ideas" /><category term="nude hot weather tan truth lie" /><category term="losing" /><category term="anonymous" /><category term="tape" /><category term="trouble" /><category term="important" /><category term="marijuana" /><category term="pain" /><category term="cure" /><category term="love" /><category term="umbrella" /><category term="tanning" /><category term="breast cancer walk pink pinktastic" /><category term="nurse" /><category term="american cancer socity" /><category term="help rent" /><category term="christmas" /><category term="homeless" /><category term="nothing" /><category term="grammar" /><category term="cindy's christmas song chestnuts white christmas little drummerboy rules songs carolers humor december" /><category term="Junior mints" /><category term="memories" /><category term="charity" /><category term="Why trees were invented" /><category term="friend died" /><category term="cats furball hair lens solve color Elvis genius" /><category term="pumpkins" /><category term="kid rude funny humor strep throat laughed doctor" /><category term="christmas song game" /><category term="in honor of me" /><category term="mom" /><category term="Anita Creamer" /><category term="clouds" /><category term="birthday mom" /><category term="Santa believing believe mall kids humor girl" /><category term="children" /><category term="kids humor" /><category term="mouse hampster" /><category term="sickness" /><category term="cell phone" /><category term="giving" /><category term="thanks" /><category term="Susan's funeral. A friend of the friendless" /><category term="russian tortoise" /><category term="sour cream" /><category term="buried" /><category term="human beings" /><category term="time" /><category term="Animal names" /><category term="passion" /><category term="world peace" /><category term="obesssed" /><category term="state collecting collection" /><category term="religion" /><category term="duck" /><category term="emergency" /><category term="skiing" /><category term="Diamond and Hitchhiker" /><category term="witch" /><category term="toast" /><category term="drugs" /><category term="suffer" /><category term="Nair" /><category term="Shower" /><title>A Day in the Life of Cindy</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>65</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy" /><feedburner:info uri="adayinthelifeofcindy" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcHRXg-eip7ImA9WhZbEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-4207605686976194497</id><published>2011-06-14T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T10:53:54.652-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-14T10:53:54.652-07:00</app:edited><title>Brothers and Sisters</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/4207605686976194497/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=4207605686976194497" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/4207605686976194497?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/4207605686976194497?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/WB2rQ06HAyQ/brothers-and-sisters.html" title="Brothers and Sisters" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">While waiting for a moving company to haul away our old treadmill, I asked my son if he could think of anything else in the house that takes up space that we didn't need anymore.Without missing a beat, he looked at his sister and replied, "Yes, and I am looking right at her."Brotherly/sisterly love at its finest.2011
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MZAuaSlTKAASyDulPdB9BEOrh6c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MZAuaSlTKAASyDulPdB9BEOrh6c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/WB2rQ06HAyQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2011/06/brothers-and-sisters.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04BSHw_fip7ImA9WxBUEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-2937860622364154162</id><published>2010-02-25T15:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T15:52:39.246-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-25T15:52:39.246-08:00</app:edited><title>Do not interrupt me. No exceptions. Well, except maybe for this.</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/2937860622364154162/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=2937860622364154162" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2937860622364154162?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2937860622364154162?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/Jg5DRyDkJ_M/do-not-interrupt-me-no-exceptions-well.html" title="Do not interrupt me. No exceptions. Well, except maybe for this." /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">A few years ago, while looking for a job, I finally landed a phone interview.  The one and only rule I had for my kids during this phone interview was: Do not interrupt me. No exceptions.As I was speaking with the lady and trying to sound very "business" like and less "been-out-of-work-home-with-kids-for-too-long-frazzled-mom" like, my son poked his head into the room and I quickly gave him a "
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KxbUVL9IXxCijlBgHcnXrRt5exI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KxbUVL9IXxCijlBgHcnXrRt5exI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/Jg5DRyDkJ_M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2010/02/do-not-interrupt-me-no-exceptions-well.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04MR30-eip7ImA9WxBUEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-41810586647962358</id><published>2010-02-25T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T11:26:26.352-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-25T11:26:26.352-08:00</app:edited><title>How Many Cookies???</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/41810586647962358/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=41810586647962358" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/41810586647962358?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/41810586647962358?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/KcfxncVxSOo/how-many-cookies.html" title="How Many Cookies???" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Yesterday my son called me at work to tell me some "very exciting" news that just couldn't wait until I got home.  "Hey Mom, guess what? I used my allowance and bought 10 boxes of Girl Scout cookies!  I had enough money and bought 10 boxes!"Stunned into silence for a moment at the thought of 10 boxes of cookies, I replied, "You spent your money on 10 boxes of cookies? Why didn't you wait until I 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xj4dhcTpI2DCJit7mb8m9mNyYK4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xj4dhcTpI2DCJit7mb8m9mNyYK4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/KcfxncVxSOo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-many-cookies.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYFRHYzeSp7ImA9WxBSFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-2146144615358305829</id><published>2009-12-22T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T10:55:15.881-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-22T10:55:15.881-08:00</app:edited><title>Ahhh, brotherly-sisterly love.</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/2146144615358305829/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=2146144615358305829" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2146144615358305829?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2146144615358305829?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/-_oYvcxhjFI/ahhh-brotherly-sisterly-love.html" title="Ahhh, brotherly-sisterly love." /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">My daughter just walked into the room and said to her brother, "Ya know, if we were both toys, you would be on the Island of Misfit Toys and I would be under the tree!" And then she smiled and walked out of the room. If that's not love brotherly-sisterly love, I don't know what is. Kids. I tell ya.2009 Cindy Breninger
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cA-JIC4r0fEpa_X1sslYwLVQrEI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cA-JIC4r0fEpa_X1sslYwLVQrEI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/-_oYvcxhjFI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2009/12/ahhh-brotherly-sisterly-love.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4GSX4-eip7ImA9WxJRGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-6413156369394127983</id><published>2009-05-18T14:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T15:18:48.052-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-20T15:18:48.052-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="black widow spiders married marriage friends" /><title>If You Are A Black Widow, Don't Get Married!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/6413156369394127983/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=6413156369394127983" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/6413156369394127983?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/6413156369394127983?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/F7pcMai-WK4/if-you-are-black-widow-dont-get-married.html" title="If You Are A Black Widow, Don't Get Married!" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">My ten year old son and his buddie were talking about black widow spiders. They wanted to know why they were called black widows. I said the black part was because of their color, and the widow part was because after the woman spider makes a baby with the man spider, the woman then eats the man spider and then she becomes a widow when he dies. Both boys were quiet, or shocked, and they decided 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sSlSVZtSJT6n8O8mizVH7OZJL1g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sSlSVZtSJT6n8O8mizVH7OZJL1g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/F7pcMai-WK4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2009/05/if-you-are-black-widow-dont-get-married.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIBQ34-fyp7ImA9WxRXEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-6304576892173712416</id><published>2008-10-17T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T09:55:52.057-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-17T09:55:52.057-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Breast cancer walk pink mom losing" /><title>Breast Cancer Walk. I Will Keep Walking</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/6304576892173712416/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=6304576892173712416" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/6304576892173712416?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/6304576892173712416?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/76vxUCE8vPA/breast-cancer-walk-i-will-keep-walking.html" title="Breast Cancer Walk. I Will Keep Walking" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/SPjC5-gBVmI/AAAAAAAAANY/cJZ9cHlyDI4/s72-c/mom.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">P.S. from my other posts. I really miss having a mom and wish she were here and these walks were unnecessary. (Wasn't she just so cute?) With that said, she isn't here and they are necessary, so until they find a cure, I will keep walking in the hopes of saving some other 16 year old from losing her mom.....2008 Cindy Breninger
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QCR6p6pwM7BocQzscm45jmz7qL0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QCR6p6pwM7BocQzscm45jmz7qL0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/76vxUCE8vPA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/10/breast-cancer-walk-i-will-keep-walking.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEFR3kzfSp7ImA9WxRQE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-7350764466235471148</id><published>2008-10-07T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T09:40:16.785-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-07T09:40:16.785-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pedometers exercise tired son steps" /><title>The Pedometer, 10,000 Steps, and Me</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/7350764466235471148/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=7350764466235471148" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/7350764466235471148?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/7350764466235471148?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/eDuGjIuHzmQ/pedometer-10000-steps-and-me.html" title="The Pedometer, 10,000 Steps, and Me" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">TEN THOUSAND steps? Did I read that right? To lose weight, it is recommended that a person walk TEN THOUSAND steps PER DAY? PER DAY...TEN THOUSAND steps.  That, to a self-proclaimed lazy person, is A LOT of steps.My son and I both got pedometers the other day and thought it would be fun to see how many hours it would take us until we hit the goal of TEN THOUSAND steps in one day.When I got off 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/djPFuOEIy0wO9GZrXw2OWPbYgtM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/djPFuOEIy0wO9GZrXw2OWPbYgtM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/eDuGjIuHzmQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/10/pedometer-10000-steps-and-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkADRno9fip7ImA9WxRQE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-2484696786765243291</id><published>2008-10-06T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T11:46:17.466-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-06T11:46:17.466-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="breast cancer walk pink pinktastic" /><title>PINKTASTIC! BREAST CANCER WALK</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/2484696786765243291/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=2484696786765243291" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2484696786765243291?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2484696786765243291?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/0qLIGheC8kw/pinktastic-breast-cancer-walk.html" title="PINKTASTIC! BREAST CANCER WALK" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/SOpZuHX8nJI/AAAAAAAAAIw/2CDgdtqLLkI/s72-c/walk2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">In August, 1987, I lost my mom to breast cancer. I was 16 and learned first hand how cancer can, er, does affect a family. For the last several years, my sister, our kids, and I walk the breast cancer walk in memory of my mom. Our little group dresses up for the walk every year. We pile on the pink. There is no such thing as too much pink in our group. Last year, or maybe the year before, a lady 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zXbJK1B_yrjb7Juq-71Jvcn4GYI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zXbJK1B_yrjb7Juq-71Jvcn4GYI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zXbJK1B_yrjb7Juq-71Jvcn4GYI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zXbJK1B_yrjb7Juq-71Jvcn4GYI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/0qLIGheC8kw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/10/pinktastic-breast-cancer-walk.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0INRns-cCp7ImA9WxRQE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-7441836263569212177</id><published>2008-10-05T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T09:46:37.558-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-06T09:46:37.558-07:00</app:edited><title>2008 JDRF Walk in Sacramento</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/7441836263569212177/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=7441836263569212177" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/7441836263569212177?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/7441836263569212177?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/JaAsN-hvRhs/2008-jdrf-walk-in-sacramento.html" title="2008 JDRF Walk in Sacramento" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/SOmQv0-Dn2I/AAAAAAAAAIg/ON4JxygR9Ac/s72-c/10-05-08c.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">My kids, sister, niece, a few friends, and me, all woke up very, very, very early this morning and headed out to the capitol to begin the 2008 Juvenile Diabetes walk. This was the first JDRF walk I have participated in and it was a great walk. We walked behind a group of about ten people who were all dressed as pirates.  They had pirate bandanas, swords, everything. One of the "pirates" was 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dugCRoVlKwi2L_7X9bAUJH67ngE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dugCRoVlKwi2L_7X9bAUJH67ngE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dugCRoVlKwi2L_7X9bAUJH67ngE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dugCRoVlKwi2L_7X9bAUJH67ngE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/JaAsN-hvRhs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/10/2008-jdrf-walk-in-sacramento.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IDQX49fyp7ImA9WxRSFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-2562216798051085417</id><published>2008-09-16T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T15:52:50.067-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-16T15:52:50.067-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="juvenile diabetes walk" /><title>Juvenile Diabetes Walk 2008</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/2562216798051085417/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=2562216798051085417" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2562216798051085417?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2562216798051085417?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/BrFuPFJLH0Q/juvenile-diabetes-walk-2008.html" title="Juvenile Diabetes Walk 2008" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/SNAwYPlc7II/AAAAAAAAAIQ/C0Pr-abJqJg/s72-c/JoshTonya.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Hi all,My sister, my kids, and my friend Tonya will be walking in the Juvenile Diabetes Walk on October 5. Tonya's son, Josh, has Juvenile Diabetes and so do a few other kids I know; I am walking for them. Here is Tonya and Josh....If you would like to donate to the walk, here is the link:http://walk.jdrf.org/Under the Donate to a Walker, enter my name, Cindy Breninger, and the team is Help cure 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tzvhsI9J1iPhVOxmdxL2yw-jVi8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tzvhsI9J1iPhVOxmdxL2yw-jVi8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tzvhsI9J1iPhVOxmdxL2yw-jVi8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tzvhsI9J1iPhVOxmdxL2yw-jVi8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/BrFuPFJLH0Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/09/juvenile-diabetes-walk-2008.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8CRX4yfSp7ImA9WxdRGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-7733099580138444226</id><published>2008-06-08T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T14:01:04.095-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-08T14:01:04.095-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sacramento Bee" /><title>A little something-something</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/7733099580138444226/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=7733099580138444226" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/7733099580138444226?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/7733099580138444226?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/xdHs0H92piM/little-something-something.html" title="A little something-something" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/SExHxCLv1TI/AAAAAAAAAII/xgqlc8nXmWM/s72-c/06-08-08SacBeeC.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">Hi all,Here is a little something-something the Sacramento Bee put in today's paper. My kids are excited because their names made it in. Cindy
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JWP1pQ-Vm9hEAekioiSKFHpy69o/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JWP1pQ-Vm9hEAekioiSKFHpy69o/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JWP1pQ-Vm9hEAekioiSKFHpy69o/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JWP1pQ-Vm9hEAekioiSKFHpy69o/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/xdHs0H92piM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-something-something.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcBSHkzeyp7ImA9WxdSEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-1040896766312063692</id><published>2008-05-18T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T13:20:59.783-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-18T13:20:59.783-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bed" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nude hot weather tan truth lie" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tanning" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="indoor" /><title>Sometimes it is Ok to lie to your kids. This truth stuff is overrated!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/1040896766312063692/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=1040896766312063692" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/1040896766312063692?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/1040896766312063692?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/iNPMnVIPVeY/sometimes-it-is-ok-to-lie-to-your-kids.html" title="Sometimes it is Ok to lie to your kids. This truth stuff is overrated!" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">Sometimes, I am starting to think, it is ok to lie to your kids. Usually, I am very honest and open with mine, but recently something has come up wherein not only will my poor son possibly be scarred for life, but it has made me re-evaluate this whole "truth" stuff.Where I live, the weather has been hot. I mean HOT with a capital H.O.T. The TV weather people have been saying it has been around 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-daylGRZhXZI2AydlwywhbYS3bY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-daylGRZhXZI2AydlwywhbYS3bY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-daylGRZhXZI2AydlwywhbYS3bY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-daylGRZhXZI2AydlwywhbYS3bY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/iNPMnVIPVeY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/05/sometimes-it-is-ok-to-lie-to-your-kids.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMDRns7fyp7ImA9WxZbF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-1160226951577756310</id><published>2008-04-20T21:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T22:07:57.507-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-04-20T22:07:57.507-07:00</app:edited><title>Don't Pee On the Rug!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/1160226951577756310/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=1160226951577756310" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/1160226951577756310?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/1160226951577756310?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/orMP0q38fB0/wow-what-crazy-couple-of-days.html" title="Don't Pee On the Rug!" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/SAwc2EEvplI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/ONw1IUg8vsQ/s72-c/04-20-08gC.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">Wow, what a crazy couple of days...but crazy in a good way.First, my kids were both sick for a week, and then one got better and the other got pneumonia. We found out he had it on Wednesday. Having a kid with that is scary and nerve racking and will result in many nights of little sleep.Then on Thursday, my sister called and said she was on her way to the hospital as her water broke. Oh, she was 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zmaIrh3hcdLtBnZ8z-nS7hzi4GI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zmaIrh3hcdLtBnZ8z-nS7hzi4GI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zmaIrh3hcdLtBnZ8z-nS7hzi4GI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zmaIrh3hcdLtBnZ8z-nS7hzi4GI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/orMP0q38fB0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/04/wow-what-crazy-couple-of-days.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMGQncycCp7ImA9WxZbEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-6686605060816005416</id><published>2008-04-15T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T11:00:23.998-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-04-15T11:00:23.998-07:00</app:edited><title>I need a vacation</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/6686605060816005416/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=6686605060816005416" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/6686605060816005416?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/6686605060816005416?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/qHCoxekQQjA/i-think-i-need-vacation.html" title="I need a vacation" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">The other day I was at work frantically typing something that had to get out yesterday while also answering the phone when a client approached my desk. Instead of saying, "I will be right with you," I looked up and said, "Hi, can I put you on hold for a moment?" I need a vacation.Cindy Breningerwww. adayinthelifeofcindy. blogspot.com
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4tSguJ4vPVg9MqSB5w24TnVsYZQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4tSguJ4vPVg9MqSB5w24TnVsYZQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4tSguJ4vPVg9MqSB5w24TnVsYZQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4tSguJ4vPVg9MqSB5w24TnVsYZQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/qHCoxekQQjA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-think-i-need-vacation.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8HRH08cCp7ImA9WxZUEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-8378861139618901525</id><published>2008-04-02T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:53:55.378-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-04-02T15:53:55.378-07:00</app:edited><title>Smack Smack Smack</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/8378861139618901525/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=8378861139618901525" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/8378861139618901525?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/8378861139618901525?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/O9luKIm-LNM/smack-smack-smack.html" title="Smack Smack Smack" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">This just in...Earlier today, my eight year old daughter called me from her cell phone while I was at work. I was in a meeting and since she never calls from her cell phone, I figured it MUST be an emergency and so I answered. Me:  "Hello? Is everything ok?"Eight Year Old:  "Hi Mommy! I just wanted to let you know that Brandon (her 9 year old brother) got sent to the Principal's office.......
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xG51XE-2Q6ryNIJQKybUUydHQz4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xG51XE-2Q6ryNIJQKybUUydHQz4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xG51XE-2Q6ryNIJQKybUUydHQz4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xG51XE-2Q6ryNIJQKybUUydHQz4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/O9luKIm-LNM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/04/smack-smack-smack.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYAR3w7fip7ImA9WxZUEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-540973153843679022</id><published>2008-04-01T11:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T11:55:46.206-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-04-01T11:55:46.206-07:00</app:edited><title>Happy April Fools!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/540973153843679022/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=540973153843679022" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/540973153843679022?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/540973153843679022?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/WwfWZGBC9sc/happy-april-fools.html" title="Happy April Fools!" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">Hehehe, I have one of those 9 year old boys who thinks he is the greatest April Fools pranksters ever.  Hehehe. He just doesn't know about his old mom.I usually wake up my kids (ages 9 and 8) at 7:00 to get ready for school, and we have to leave the house by 7:30 so I can get to work on time.  Well, this morning, I woke up a few hours early and ran into their room, turned on the light, and 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/x-nmpzBJDCMG_CGeQFr8HV6YRPg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/x-nmpzBJDCMG_CGeQFr8HV6YRPg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/x-nmpzBJDCMG_CGeQFr8HV6YRPg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/x-nmpzBJDCMG_CGeQFr8HV6YRPg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/WwfWZGBC9sc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-april-fools.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcDQngzcSp7ImA9WxZVEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-5295691738159034462</id><published>2008-03-21T11:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T12:01:13.689-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-03-21T12:01:13.689-07:00</app:edited><title>People Who Don't Drink Coffee Should Not Make It</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/5295691738159034462/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=5295691738159034462" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/5295691738159034462?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/5295691738159034462?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/cwhMil-HoRE/people-who-dont-drink-coffee-should-not.html" title="People Who Don't Drink Coffee Should Not Make It" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">This is my story of how if you mess something up enough times, don't be frustrated, be glad.I am one of those rare, non-coffee drinkers. I do not like the smell, or even like it on other people's breath when they talk after drinking it. I can't stand it. That being said, I do not own a coffee maker as I would have no use for it. I am afraid of them as they are just too high tech and since I don't
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SoeEgiQsH9c8Jc9_EvmiXbH7ESQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SoeEgiQsH9c8Jc9_EvmiXbH7ESQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SoeEgiQsH9c8Jc9_EvmiXbH7ESQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SoeEgiQsH9c8Jc9_EvmiXbH7ESQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/cwhMil-HoRE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/03/people-who-dont-drink-coffee-should-not.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUDQXcyfip7ImA9WxZSEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-6582605402408796830</id><published>2008-01-23T21:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T21:41:10.996-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-23T21:41:10.996-08:00</app:edited><title>In Need of a Fishing Pole!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/6582605402408796830/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=6582605402408796830" title="16 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/6582605402408796830?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/6582605402408796830?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/xHJ7V9kHpXI/in-need-of-fishing-pole.html" title="In Need of a Fishing Pole!" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>16</thr:total><content type="html">We are up to 30 guppies, up from 9 fish a few days ago. Cripes. My son and I had a brilliant idea, if we took out the female guppy, who we were told was a male, then there wouldn't be any more babies. Uh-huh. We were soooo smart. Get rid of the girl fish and no more baby fish. Pretty simple. Riiiiggghhhtt. Oh, sidenote, in case you were wondering: I have named them all Elvis, or I call them The 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4Gw9pggJ_IQhh9o8nJ9y7aKYgBE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4Gw9pggJ_IQhh9o8nJ9y7aKYgBE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4Gw9pggJ_IQhh9o8nJ9y7aKYgBE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4Gw9pggJ_IQhh9o8nJ9y7aKYgBE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/xHJ7V9kHpXI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-need-of-fishing-pole.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMASHc-cSp7ImA9WxZTGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-7302934476099565605</id><published>2008-01-20T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T19:34:09.959-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-20T19:34:09.959-08:00</app:edited><title>Apparently the guy at the fish store was wrong!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/7302934476099565605/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=7302934476099565605" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/7302934476099565605?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/7302934476099565605?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/O_scDn8A_rs/apparently-guy-at-fish-store-was-wrong.html" title="Apparently the guy at the fish store was wrong!" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">We just added another guppy fish to our fish tank and the guy at the pet store told us it was a male...apparently he was wrong as we now have over 20 baby guppies. Fish are really hard to count as they just won't be still, but we think we are close to the real number. Yesterday we found nine babies, but we today found 11 more brand new ones, just born today. That is 20 new babies in a few days. 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ctwkqDbfTLsbZNQCLAnFCTB7YXg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ctwkqDbfTLsbZNQCLAnFCTB7YXg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/O_scDn8A_rs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/01/apparently-guy-at-fish-store-was-wrong.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04CQnkycCp7ImA9WxZTEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-5131889632339762465</id><published>2008-01-10T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T16:06:03.798-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-10T16:06:03.798-08:00</app:edited><title>What NOT to Put on Spaghetti</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/5131889632339762465/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=5131889632339762465" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/5131889632339762465?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/5131889632339762465?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/uyousckM6PU/what-not-to-put-on-spaghetti.html" title="What NOT to Put on Spaghetti" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/R4axyVhQodI/AAAAAAAAAGo/s4D36LtbZ2M/s72-c/01-08-08e.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">So, what do your kids eat for dinner? Could it be chicken nuggets? Pizza? Tacos? All of the above? None of the above? Good! We are all on the same page. Kids will eat what they want no matter what. Can I get my kids to eat broccoli? Nooooo. Can I get them to eat bananas with ketchup? Yessssssss. Gross, totally, but my daughter puts ketchup on everything-EVERYTHING, and this leads to me something 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D-21czvhkI6k0jqdR63IcL_4_6Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D-21czvhkI6k0jqdR63IcL_4_6Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/uyousckM6PU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-not-to-put-on-spaghetti.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4AQH89fCp7ImA9WB9aGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-508557226423389459</id><published>2008-01-09T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T19:55:41.164-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-08T19:55:41.164-08:00</app:edited><title>The Sacramento Zoo Giraffes</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/508557226423389459/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=508557226423389459" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/508557226423389459?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/508557226423389459?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/BDzUjTS129I/sacramento-zoo-giraffes.html" title="The Sacramento Zoo Giraffes" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/R4RCj1hQobI/AAAAAAAAAGY/dQ7XJ8LSAio/s72-c/01-08-08f.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><content type="html">The Sacramento Bee Newspaper recently ran a story about the giraffes at the Sacramento Zoo and how they were living in substandard living conditions. It mentions how the giraffes are living in a rotting 50-year-old barn. The city owns the zoo, but says it is cash-strapped and doesn't have enough funds to pay for a new barn and exhibit. The giraffe is my son's favorite animal and when he found out
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9bLBmQ46FJ7OtGi1xHnOMfLFuFI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9bLBmQ46FJ7OtGi1xHnOMfLFuFI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/BDzUjTS129I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/01/sacramento-zoo-giraffes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYGRH85cSp7ImA9WB9aE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-9046980466960606276</id><published>2008-01-02T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T17:35:25.129-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-02T17:35:25.129-08:00</app:edited><title>Ten Dollars Never Looked So Good. It's a two-for!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/9046980466960606276/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=9046980466960606276" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/9046980466960606276?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/9046980466960606276?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/YZKnZgv8a18/ten-dollars-never-looked-so-good-its.html" title="Ten Dollars Never Looked So Good. It's a two-for!" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>8</thr:total><content type="html">My nine and seven year old kids and I collect coins. Not intentionally, but we always seem to wind up with several jars of loose coins. As we were cleaning up today, we decided to cash them in. My son had one jar and it totalled up to $33.64. To a nine year old, this is a huge haul, $33.64, that ranks up there with winning the lottery. When he got his cash, he took his $33.64 and wouldn't let 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xSyJVf4qoagglB8Tj9y38lOmUV4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xSyJVf4qoagglB8Tj9y38lOmUV4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/YZKnZgv8a18" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2008/01/ten-dollars-never-looked-so-good-its.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEARX85cCp7ImA9WB9bFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-2402205100275570489</id><published>2007-12-24T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T23:44:04.128-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2007-12-24T23:44:04.128-08:00</app:edited><title>A Christmas Eve I will Never Forget</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/2402205100275570489/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=2402205100275570489" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2402205100275570489?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2402205100275570489?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/Y-klRXyjmVo/christmas-eve-i-will-never-forget.html" title="A Christmas Eve I will Never Forget" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">When I was 20, I was renting a room off a lady named Pat. Pat was great, she was fun, always had a smile, or a joke; she was also dying from Emphysema. When I moved in, she was pretty much bed-bound and on oxygen, but, none-the-less, she was still a great mom to her 15 year old son. At the time, I was working a minimum wage job and going to college, which meant I had no money. She was barely 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6I2XRSpGWt1ynS2glecfo6GRhKw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6I2XRSpGWt1ynS2glecfo6GRhKw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/Y-klRXyjmVo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-eve-i-will-never-forget.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MDQHszeSp7ImA9WB9bE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-2652282229011292683</id><published>2007-12-21T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T23:44:31.581-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2007-12-21T23:44:31.581-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="caretakers sick son" /><title>My Heart Goes Out to Caretakers</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/2652282229011292683/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=2652282229011292683" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2652282229011292683?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2652282229011292683?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/BDHFFBTpWQQ/my-heart-goes-out-to-caretakers.html" title="My Heart Goes Out to Caretakers" /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">For the last few days, I have pretty much been the caretaker for my nine-year-old son. For those of you who have never had to do this, trust me on this, it is exhausting.My son had surgery a few days ago and could barely walk for a few days. This meant that he spent a lot of time on the couch and anytime he needed food or anything, I would get it for him. The first day wasn't too bad, except I 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ao7LZthrSuxYsG_zgImJsexZp8c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ao7LZthrSuxYsG_zgImJsexZp8c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~4/BDHFFBTpWQQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-heart-goes-out-to-caretakers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YEQ3s7fSp7ImA9WB9bEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3667386888189709985.post-2598304190353537147</id><published>2007-12-20T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T23:11:42.505-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2007-12-20T23:11:42.505-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="birthday mom" /><title>Older Than My Mom. It's Not Right.</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/feeds/2598304190353537147/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3667386888189709985&amp;postID=2598304190353537147" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2598304190353537147?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3667386888189709985/posts/default/2598304190353537147?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ADayInTheLifeOfCindy/~3/hzUHgHRSNjw/older-than-my-mom-its-not-right.html" title="Older Than My Mom. It's Not Right." /><author><name>Cindy Breninger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14090341390634068428</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPAQBfrO9n0/TGHZJvmLwCI/AAAAAAAAARg/DES9jnZS37c/S220/lll.jpg" /></author><thr:total>8</thr:total><content type="html">Another birthday has come and gone. Ho-hum. I could do without them, really. Lately, the older I get, the less excited I am about having them. I don't mean to be a kill-joy, but what bothers me about my birthday is, when I was 16, I lost my mom to cancer. She was 35 when diagnosed and 42 when she died. It will be so weird when I pass her age and am older than she was...gives me the shivers.I 
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