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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;Ck8BRXk_eSp7ImA9WhRUEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816</id><updated>2012-01-22T16:20:54.741-06:00</updated><category term="Grandchildren" /><category term="Stephanie Meyers" /><category term="Cancer" /><category term="funny" /><category term="working from home" /><category term="Edward Cullen" /><category term="Kids and Teens" /><category term="books" /><category term="Autistic Runners" /><category term="David Slade" /><category term="Amazon" /><category 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/><category term="Peter Facinelli And Twittering" /><category term="Emmet" /><category term="motorcycles" /><category term="Stephenie Meyer" /><category term="freelancer" /><category term="Rheumatologist" /><category term="BFF" /><category term="Ten Commandments" /><category term="Hospital" /><category term="sensory integration" /><category term="Reporters" /><category term="Bella swan" /><category term="CIA" /><category term="Aspergers" /><category term="Twittering" /><category term="Saga" /><category term="Robert Pattinson" /><category term="love" /><category term="Grandson" /><category term="Hep C" /><category term="Opportunities" /><category term="pregnancy" /><category term="Hydrocodone" /><category term="Midnight Sun" /><category term="Summer" /><category term="Benjamin Button" /><category term="&quot;Eclipse&quot;&quot;" /><category term="Twitter" /><category term="Depression" /><category term="George Clooney" /><category term="McCain" /><category term="HIV" /><category term="New Year" /><category term="Golden" /><category term="Calendar" /><category term="magic" /><category term="Friendship" /><category term="New Moon" /><category term="National Security" /><category term="Odesk" /><category term="Friends" /><category term="Dad" /><category term="Kristen and Rob" /><category term="Awareness" /><category term="sensory" /><category term="Students" /><category term="police" /><category term="Irag War" /><category term="Breaking Dawn Part 1" /><category term="Mt.Scott" /><category term="Volturi" /><category term="Peach Orchard" /><category term="2012" /><category term="Blizzard" /><category term="Kadian" /><category term="Alpha-Stim" /><category term="diane chamberlain" /><category term="Writers" /><category term="Rachel McAdams" /><category term="substitue" /><category term="Breaking Dawn" /><category term="New Year's Eve" /><category term="9-11" /><category term="Teachers" /><category term="age" /><category term="Blessings" /><category term="teaching" /><category term="Social Networking" /><category term="Sewing" /><category term="Cullens" /><category term="School" /><category term="five for fighting" /><category term="puberty" /><category term="ER" /><category term="children" /><category term="Script" /><category term="diversity" /><category term="Fibromyaliga" /><category term="Moore High School" /><category term="disibility" /><category term="September 11" /><category term="Ali MacGraw" /><category term="werewolf" /><category term="music" /><category term="SSDI" /><category term="blog" /><category term="Diane Chamberlain.]" /><category term="Breaking Dawn&quot;" /><category term="Mark Twain" /><category term="Mayan" /><category term="Texas" /><category term="EReader" /><category term="Carol Stock Krnowitz" /><category term="Red Carpet" /><category term="Osteoarthritis" /><category term="Grandmas" /><category term="Esme" /><category term="chickens" /><category term="Birthdays" /><category term="Paparazzi" /><category term="composition" /><category term="Notebook" /><category term="Berry patch" /><category term="Baby Girl" /><category term="Time" /><category term="The View" /><category term="Rosalie" /><category term="President Obama" /><category term="writing" /><category term="drugs" /><category term="David Cook" /><title>Life with Cindy</title><subtitle type="html">A look at My Life..."I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good things, therefore, that I can do, any kindness that I can show a fellow being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."Stephen Grellet</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>82</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/LifeWithCindy" /><feedburner:info uri="lifewithcindy" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EDQnY8cCp7ImA9WhRVGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-311136377477452099</id><published>2012-01-17T22:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T22:07:53.878-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T22:07:53.878-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Angels" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Wichita Wildlife Refugee" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sensory" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mt.Scott" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="God" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="autism" /><title>Family Day</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
We spent this Sunday riding down to Mt. Scott in the Wichita Wildlife Refugee. We have been there before, but I think my grandchildren really enjoy it. Mike and Lloyd took the motorcycles and the kids took turns riding there. They had so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;
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I am not sure what they enjoy the most. It seems that every time we go it is cool and WINDY... wow.. But we ended up with a great day. They even enjoy the visitor center. It seems that we see something new every time we go. This time the Buffalo and Long Horn Cattle were out and more visible.&lt;br /&gt;
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Six of the grandchildren came with us. Two of the girls were missing. It never seems like we can get them all together. but with Anna being 15 going on 35...we don't see very much of her and our poor Katie girl broke her arm on Christmas Day and she didn't need to be climbing around on the rocks or riding the motorcycle. Of course if she had been there, we wouldn't be able to stop her. It is also a challenge when 4 of our boys are autistic. We never know when we plan an outing how it will end. When you try to cater to our kids, a melt down can make the day miserable...but on the other hand, when it all comes together, it is beautiful. We had one of those days on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;
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Noah is non verbal which means he doesn't use words. However his actions and the sounds he makes lets us know whether or not he is having a good day. He had a wonderful day. It was really awesome. As he gets older, you can see that he is learning more everyday on how to communicate with us. And the more he learns, the easier his life becomes and ours in turn....&lt;br /&gt;
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He smiled all day long. This picture of him and his dad sitting on the top of the rocks, shows him completely relaxed. The sun reflecting in the sky, bouncing off the rocks seems to be showing Angel beams bouncing off his smile.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;Of course we had our Lilly Girl with us and she was telling us what to do all day long.Took her baby with us to the top...&lt;br /&gt;
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Brody wouldn't ride on the motorcycle with Dad or Papa because neither wore their Overhauls. It seems that Brody doesn't feel safe unless he can use the straps to hold on to. He had a great time at the Visitor center. &lt;br /&gt;
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Ashton was convinced that the top of Mt. Scott had dinosaur footprints in the rocks. He was measuring up to the "dinosaur track"&lt;br /&gt;
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And then we have the two older boys..Cousins they are, but also best friends. Listening to their conversations can be enlightening to say the least. Both are high functioning Autistic. Now they are at the age that they really don't want people to know. I am so proud of what they accomplish everyday. We had some conversations on how those Texas Long Horns got to Oklahoma.&lt;br /&gt;
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Here is a pic of Anna and Katie the ones we had to leave behind on Sunday. Although Katie did not want to miss it...well on the other hand, sometimes Anna just doesn't have time. I so understand..but sometimes I wish she could come and enjoy our outings. She just doesn't know how much we miss her. &lt;br /&gt;
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Although my daughter and the two girls were missing, we had a great day. We are not always so lucky to have days like this. With our boys disabilities, it is hard to find activities that are fun and sensory friendly. This day, God blessed us with his love and the Angels were looking down on us. &lt;br /&gt;
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Today I was thinking that I had to find something else to write about. I didn't have anything interesting to say. And then all of a sudden I started commenting on one of my girl's Face Book Post, and I realized I needed more room. Thank you Sabrina.&lt;br /&gt;
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She posted this " Teen Drinking is Very Bad , YO I have a fake id though"&amp;nbsp; Of course I couldn't leave this one alone. I love her way too much to keep my mouth shut. So Sabrina, this is for you and all of my other kids that have come through my life these past few years. Keep in mind that even though I am of a more interesting age, I started out just like you and I have made my own bad choices.&amp;nbsp; For me, I was very lucky that the consequences of my bad choices did not cost me what they could have.&lt;br /&gt;
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This statement is so true, Teen Drinking is Very Bad. But do you know why?&amp;nbsp; I mean I could go on and on about all the bad things that could happen to you. All the consequences of the actions that it could lead to. And I could just tell you how stupid you are for doing it.&lt;br /&gt;
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I am not even going to pretend that I know if you do or don't...if you have tried or not...because I don't. Just for fun, I am going to pretend that I do know and you have made the choice to drink at some of these parties that I keep hearing about. This is sort of the scenario I imagine is happening. And this is the story I am telling of you and your friends.&lt;br /&gt;
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You are out with your friends and although you never have before, tonight your boyfriend made you really angry because he was making eyes at another girl and you found her text on his phone.&lt;br /&gt;
You get to the party and everyone is having fun. Some one asks you if you want a drink...maybe they are playing a drinking game and you say no at first, but you are mad at your boyfriend....so you think that it will be okay if you just have one. After all you are tired of always being the "goodie two shoes". And because you have never done this before, 1 glass of&amp;nbsp; "punch" makes you giggle and laugh like nothing else. And everything is so funny...Why not have another? By this time, you are really having a great time...everyone is laughing with you or AT YOU...but you didn't notice that......It had gotten very warm and maybe you .....take off that long sleeve t-shirt that you are wearing over a tank....And that really cute bad boy is paying attention to you....&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;Who are you at the party with? Are they drinking to???While you are losing control, who are you trusting to keep you out of trouble. &lt;/i&gt;Because right now girls...guess what...you are no longer in control of what is happening to you. How does that feel? Oh right, you don't know how that feels, because you can't even feel your lips right now...and you are still having fun...I am not going to lie to you and try and tell you that it feels bad...because right now it doesn't...Not yet.... And that really cute bad boy is probably kissing you on the neck and laughing and encouraging you to have another glass of "punch"...And your really getting warm now...and you might take off that tank...and all of the "friends" there are encouraging you to do just that. Especially that really cute bad boy...NOW, Who has your back...because now you have lost your control completely. You have numbed out the person you are and now there is no one standing in your way to "fun"...Or A really bad CHOICE...For instance... Who Drove you there? and how are you going to get home... Oh, maybe it is that really cute bad boy...because by now he is in "LOVE" with you...There are many scenarios that can happen now...and guess what...It doesn't really matter which one I write about, because you have lost control and it isn't up to you anymore. Who has your back? hmmm Well since this is my pretend story, your best friend that you came with only drank 2 glasses of "punch" but it was her first time also...So she is going to drive you home. But you are not ready to go home yet and so she decides to leave you here. She takes your other best friend home with her...He has had twice as much to drink and is throwing up and someone throws him in the car. He didn't have control over that either, because he was passed out. His choice and control was gone. ...Remember that really cute bad boy...well he promised to have your back because now your drinking your 3rd glass of "punch" and he really "LOVES" you now.... And by now you are getting so warm, and can't really stand up, so this really cute bad boy takes you inside where you can lie down until you feel better. Oh don't forget your warm, so he helps you take off some more of your clothes. By now you also "LOVE" him and well I think you know what comes next. Is this your first time? Well if he didn't use a condom, you won't get pregnant will you...because it is only your first time....HAHAHAHA....WRONG...hmmmm But you have no say so right now because you trusted some one else to have your back and gave away your control.... Well let's hope this is the end of this...This really cute bad boy never used a condom in his life and let's just say this isn't his 1st or even his 20th time..He is that really really cute sexy bad boy...Wonder what disease he might have..OH right you gave up all control, so you can't even ask the question or demand that he wear a condom or even have control enough to say NO! So you end the night puking up your guts and then you WAKE up with a STRANGER....So you get up wondering what happened, because you can't remember....WHAT? where is your friends... So you get up look in the mirror at the person you don't even know, because...For the past 12 hours, you have no idea what that person in the mirror has been doing. You can't&amp;nbsp; even find your phone, and what about your friends and your parents.... OH GOD...I am going to die...NO you won't, you might wish you were dead...but you won't die over this....Unless that really cute bad boy STRANGER has a disease... Where are your friends? Well since this is my party..so to speak ...let me tell you what happened.. Your best friend who only had 2 glasses of "punch", well she drove herself home...And your other friend well remember, he got sick and passed out and they threw him in her car....Well they were driving home and She didn't stop at the stop sign because she was changing the music on the radio so she could party on the way home, and she hit a truck and well, the good news, she is in the hospital, with a broken leg and arm...the bad news, your other friend was laying in the seat without a seat belt. He went through the windshield and another car hit him and he is in the morgue....As for you...you could have HIV, Hep C or just be pregnant at 16. You go ahead and choose...because I doubt you are going to worry about any of that until you bury your friend.&amp;nbsp; And the one that is in the hospital...she may have to serve some time in jail...of course everyday for the rest of her life she will live with the fact that she killed her friend. I don't how you see this story ending..of course, I could have gotten it all wrong, you got drunk for the first time, started throwing up and your parents were called. All three of you got home safely and the worst that happened was a huge hangover and maybe being grounded for the rest of your life...or maybe a month...I know that you are all just kids...well I guess I should say YOUNG..I read on Face Book just the other day that being Young is not an excuse to be an idiot...hmmmm... I am not trying to scare you. You have to decide what choices you make. But when you are drinking, you cannot make good choices.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Who will you trust enough to be in control of your life when you are not? When you choose to drink or do drugs, you are trusting the alcohol or drug to be in control for you. Whether you think it is okay to drink or not, Do you really want to relinquish the control you have and let someone or something else make the choices when You will be the one to suffer the consequences. Are you willing to let someone else play Russian Roulette with your life? Because that is what you are doing. I love you all and just want you to have all your hopes and dreams come true. Right now, you haven't even lived long enough to know what all your dreams are going to be. Someday you will find someone to share your life with and you will have children and then you will have new dreams...so please don't let bad choices take away all that can be or might be. I want to share with you something I wrote for Anna on her 13th birthday. This is what I hope for all the kids that come through my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc66cc; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; font-size: small; font-style: italic;"&gt;You
 hope that every choice she makes will be the perfect one. You know that
 the odds are against that. So you hope that the bad choices she makes 
will have just enough consequences. ..just enough to affect her life in a
 positive way. Just enough to give her the wisdom to NOT make them 
again." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WknYmqWVBSPRY--2i7Oy_asO_ws/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WknYmqWVBSPRY--2i7Oy_asO_ws/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/ITAiquagVzQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/776104827927605244/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=776104827927605244" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/776104827927605244?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/776104827927605244?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/ITAiquagVzQ/today-i-was-thinking-that-i-had-to-find.html" title="Teen Drinking" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2012/01/today-i-was-thinking-that-i-had-to-find.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QMRHc6fip7ImA9WhRVEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-5247281640943919231</id><published>2012-01-09T22:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T22:23:05.916-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T22:23:05.916-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Twilight" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="eclipse" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Breaking Dawn Part 1" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Breaking Dawn" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Stephenie Meyer" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="obsession" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Moon" /><title>My 100th Post</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
I was looking at my stats on my blog and realized I had 99 post. I can't remember writing 100 blogs, but I will go with this. They might be counting the ones I wrote for the mobile phone company as well. But just for fun, I am going with this is my 100th.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So what do you write about on such a memorable blog. Well, I think I will write about my one obsession of the past few years. The Twilight Saga. I know that it didn't really begin as a saga and for me, it almost didn't happen at all. A brief recount of how it all started for me. Twilight, my granddaughter who was in the 7th grade was reading it. Vampires? Yuck! All the kids in school were reading it, teachers were reading it. Well not me, I don't read about Vampires... And so the summer came and my friend brought me the first two books. She said "Read these, you won't believe how good they are. They aren't what you think they are." Well because I had pushed some of my favorite books on her, I had to at least try. I really didn't know anything about them. I had no idea that there was a movie out either. Was I living in a cave? The first book did start out a little slow and I struggled to make it through the first few chapters ....and then almost like I &lt;i&gt;'Imprinted' &lt;/i&gt;lol on this book. I was hooked. I could not wait to read the second. I was staying up all night reading. It had been a long time since that had happened. Then I read "New Moon". Oh my I cried through the whole book. I couldn't wait to read "Eclipse". And then I wouldn't read "Breaking Dawn" until I was sure that Edward wasn't leaving again. This all happened the summer between the time they filmed "New Moon" and "Eclipse". So if you didn't live in the Twilight world, you still didn't realize what a big deal it was. I read all 4 books before I watched the first movie. Really, I was able to read the books with a fresh unbiased mindset.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now when I first saw "Twilight" I cried and complained and compared the the two. Book against movie. I was not satisfied with the movie...And yet I watched more than a few times. Waited not so patiently for the release of "New Moon"... And again, I complained and compared the Two...Book-Movie. Was not satisfied. I promise. If you&amp;nbsp; don't believe me, ask anyone who knows me. Then the same with "Eclipse"... They just didn't capture what I read and loved from the books....We had to wait over a year for "Breaking Dawn prt 1" to come out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I haven't written about this yet. I loved it. Finally what we had waited for..it finally happened. The words in the book on the big Screen. Was it exactly the way it happened in the book. NO, but it was close enough there are no complaints. I have read the reviews, and I think the bad reviews came from the people who didn't read the books. Reading the books, you knew and got more meaning from this movie. If you didn't read the books and felt lost...well pick up the book and you will see what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;
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I think that Stephenie Meyer being a co-producer, had a lot to do with the way the movie was written. The book is split into 3 parts. Bella's, Jacob's and then Bella's. Jacob's book was written in his POV. Most of this was in his head and speaking to the wolves with their Wolfy Mind Thingy....So showing this in the movie was hard, but I think they did a very good job with it. While they showed Jacob growing and his agony, they didn't show the humor. There was a lot of that in the book. Jacob dealing with the agony of loving Bella and hating the Cullens and Bella for what was happening. There was the way Jacob felt and dealt with Edward and Rosalie.&amp;nbsp; There was a new understanding for Carlisle, Esme and Alice.&lt;br /&gt;
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In the book, the pack never showed up to destroy Bella or Renesme. There was not a fight. Leah leaving her pack and standing with Jacob even though she too hated the Cullens. The reason why they hated the Cullens. I just don't think the movie showed all of these elements.&lt;br /&gt;
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However, those that read the books just once probably didn't get all of that out of them either. I did say obsession, Right? And we had our own little Book Club here....I couldn't suffer all this obsession alone, could I? No, my daughter and daughter in law also suffered with me. We have read and reread, and analyzed and watched the movies. We probably know more about the characters than Stephenie does. Well of course that is not true, but it could be. I would love for her to come and analyze them with us. She might learn something about her vampires...Just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;
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Well I should have warned you all that this was going to be long. However I haven't written about my obsession in a very long time and didn't know that I was until my fingers started typing. The "Breaking Dawn Prt 1" DVD will be out on February 11, 2012. I can't wait to watch it over and over so I can complain and compare. Book and Movie..&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-5247281640943919231?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QSdDsdGTJiD3mjixyWG8a_iG7-g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QSdDsdGTJiD3mjixyWG8a_iG7-g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/-vX5VmG1hcI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/5247281640943919231/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=5247281640943919231" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/5247281640943919231?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/5247281640943919231?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/-vX5VmG1hcI/my-100th-post.html" title="My 100th Post" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-100th-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8MRXs5cCp7ImA9WhRWFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-2606290682159563308</id><published>2012-01-03T21:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T21:48:04.528-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-03T21:48:04.528-06:00</app:edited><title>REPEAT Life with Cindy: Things To Do Before I am 18 or Before I Die</title><content type="html">I was reading this post and at the end, I found my resolution for 2011. Basically I was talking about not sabotaging my life with Self Fulfilling Prophecies. Well, I have to say that in 2011, I did some things I am proud of. I went back to work full time in a job I love. I took a test to be a HQ Para and I passed with 479 points out of 480. I am smarter than I thought. I took a class to finish the process. So I think I am on my way to NOT sabotaging my life with negative Self Fulfilling Prophecies, but with positive ones instead. I hope I have learned something this year and I hope that next year I will continue that path. So here it is one more time, my Bucket List...and by the way, I think I probably have a few more items to add..just not right now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/01/things-to-do-before-i-am-18-or-before-i.html?spref=bl"&gt;Life with Cindy: Things To Do Before I am 18 or Before I Die&lt;/a&gt;: My 14 year old Granddaughter posted this statement or question on Facebook. Well of course I answered it. It went something like this.... I ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-2606290682159563308?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I promised myself that I would try and write on my Blog more often, a goal of no less than once a week. Hopefully in a good week I will write seven. But knowing me, I feel I should lean to the lesser side and hopefully it will be one promise I can keep.&lt;br /&gt;
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Not knowing exactly what to write, I wrote the date. Now then thoughts started flowing on the year 2012. We have heard through the years different ideas and dates of the end of time. They always get a lot of&amp;nbsp; publicity and then never pan out, thank goodness. But if you believe what the Bible says about men not knowing when the end of time will be, you know that if someone is predicting it, it isn't happening.&lt;br /&gt;
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From what I understand, the Mayans had several calendars. One of these ended on Dec 21, 2012. Now the Mayans didn't say that this was the last day of earth, however this calendar just ended. People that sell movies and books used some imagination to put together this idea. And being normal gullible folks, we want to believe the biggest and most epic scary things that people write.&lt;br /&gt;
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But you know, just pretend that it is true. Would you live your life differently if you knew we only had 353 more days to live. What would you do? Would you change your lifestyle at all. Would you love more, laugh longer, dance like there is no tomorrow, all those things that make a song. I would like to say the answer is no, that this is the way I live my life. I would be lying. So for 2012, I think I will try this philosophy. It surely can't make my life any worse. I might find out some things about me I didn't know. Maybe I will get an idea for a book. That would be awesome.&lt;br /&gt;
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I am going to think about this for a little while, and come back and share some of my thoughts on what changes I will be making. Share this idea with your friends. Maybe we will learn more about ourselves and find the importance of living life like it was our last day on earth.&lt;br /&gt;
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Here we are again, the time of year where I get very sad. Sad that the year is over and the New Year comes to take it's place. I get so depressed when one year ends. I don't really understand why.&lt;br /&gt;
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At the beginning of every year we&amp;nbsp; make plans and we get a chance to do everything over again. The old is left behind and chances to redo and restore all that didn't get finished is what we have to look forward to. Why do you think then, that I can't accept the inevitable of time passing. Maybe it is the grief for all those things that&amp;nbsp; are left undone, incomplete. Or for chances that we never get back.&lt;br /&gt;
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The end of the year measures in time where we are, what we have accomplished and it is a time to readjust and reevaluate what we want from life and if we are on the right track to completer our goals. When the big ball drops from the sky, we expect to make resolutions without expectations to fail. But 12 months later when it is time measure up, we have to face yet again that we are not perfect and life has once again gotten in our way to reach that state of perfection we so desire.&lt;br /&gt;
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I was just a little girl when I became aware of time not standing still. The sense of loss at the beginning of a brand new year. Everyone seems so happy when they ring in the new year. With all the hoopla on New Year's Eve, it is hard to imagine that everyone does not feel the same way. I guess some doctors say it is Seasonal Depression...but I think that comes later in the winter. So why and what is the answer.&lt;br /&gt;
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The thing is, time doesn't stand still and even this obsession of mine will pass. I will put a smile on my face and wake up on New Year's Day and the day after that and then the next day too. And before you know it, I will be looking forward to spring, summer, fall and then it will be Christmas and once again..and once again I will be sad to see the end of yet another year.&lt;br /&gt;
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Since it is inevitable that time isn't standing still and the New Year will be here tomorrow night at 12:01 am, I hope that your year was full of wishes and dreams come true. That 2012 will bring you opportunities and open doors leading you into the new year.&lt;br /&gt;
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Happy New Year&lt;br /&gt;
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Christmas Eve is almost over here in Oklahoma. I enjoyed spending time with my brother's and families. My children and my grandchildren, niece and nephews. My Mom had a good time I think although she was not feeling well. We had some very good food and lots of candy and goodies. Yummy... My daughter inlaw had was listening and heard us say we were missing Dad. She made us an ornament that was clear and filled it with sparkles and a picture of my Dad. It has been 8 years, but it made me cry...I guess because I am missing him right now. I would give anything to have him back. Many of my friends have felt a loss this year and I have been giving out words of comfort and telling them how it will get better. Of course it is better but you never forget them and you never stop missing them. As the days pass, you will find that you don't think about them everyday, but then when you least expect it, you can't get them off your mind. I suppose this is when they are talking to you. It really just makes you realize how you much you really miss them...I should take some of my own advice. I should get quite and listen.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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This Christmas I have been so out of sorts. I can't get anything done. I am not ready, and yet here it is. Christmas. I haven't hung the stockings or finished wrapping gifts...and yet.. it came anyways. I am going to bed now and when I wake up, I hope it all falls into place. Thankfully there are no little ones here as there are gifts scattered everywhere. &lt;br /&gt;
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Well Good Night World...I will be back tomorrow and I bet Christmas happens whether I am ready or not...&lt;br /&gt;
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Holly has the kindest soul of anyone I have ever met. She touches my heart every single day. Have you ever met some one that glowed from the inside out. Well that is the way that I see Holly. Without words, but by watching how she lives her life, I have learned to be more aware and considerate of our whole world and enviroment. She is so patient...whether she is working with one of our angels, or decorating a card...she takes simplicity to the highest level. When we are rushing to finish and move on, she creates the most awesome things. Thank you Holly for letting me call you friend.&lt;br /&gt;
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Becca does not know the words "I can't". Whatever it is, you know she is going to try and try until she perfects it. Her heart is huge and I think she would give you the proverbial shirt off her back. While Holly is patient, Becca is not. And this is her comfort zone. It seems she has done and seen everything, so it suprises me sometimes at the things she hasn't...such as eating at Sonic. :) And we look to her when we have a question because she will not stop until she finds the answer. I am blessed to have met such a unique person. I love you Bec.&lt;br /&gt;
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Christy does ground us. Her career choice is perfect. She wants to be a school counselor. If you knew her, you know that she will be awesome. She is so intune with everything around us.&amp;nbsp; I can't exactly explain how&amp;nbsp;Christy &amp;nbsp;knows just what to say and how she puts things in the right perspective. Her intuition about people and situations amazes me.&amp;nbsp;Our angels are so blessed to have her in their lives. I have learned so much from her. Thank you Christy for&amp;nbsp;everything you do for me. &lt;br /&gt;
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Miss Cindy is next. Some times God sends people&amp;nbsp;into your life for more than one reason. She has worked hard and made some difficult choices to be where&amp;nbsp;she is&amp;nbsp;today.&amp;nbsp;She is&amp;nbsp;strong and she shows us to stand up for ourselves even when it isn't always the most popular&amp;nbsp;view.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It takes a special person to care&amp;nbsp;for our angels..to look past their disabilities and&amp;nbsp;love them for who they are.&amp;nbsp;Without sharing&amp;nbsp;any&amp;nbsp;details, I know God sent&amp;nbsp;her into my life. &lt;br /&gt;
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This year we have added two new children and they brought with them their own angels to care for them. The nurses Hillary and Ruby go out of their way to help us. They certainly help to complete our circle and I am glad to call them friends. &lt;br /&gt;
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I feel like I am one of the most blessed people in the world. This is just a small part of my world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-3871682862188206354?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I always am surprised at how fast Christmas comes and goes. I love this time of the year and it seems that no matter when I start, it just isn't long enough. I try every year to slow it down and nothing works. I have found that trying to have a little Christmas everyday works better than anything else. &lt;br /&gt;
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My job this year allows me to do that. We have been having Christmas everyday at school. Some people get tired of this. I guess those in retail get the most exposure to Christmas. I know I have heard that they experience over exposure to music and decorations. I am sure they see some of the UGLY of Christmas as well. This includes folks that are not showing their best behavior during this season of love and sharing. They probably need our prayers. &lt;br /&gt;
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I have one more week and I hope that I can get through it with zero stress. I hope that every single minute I realize a new blessing&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;Enjoy your family and friends. Remember to share your blessings with others. This is&amp;nbsp;the wonderful time of the year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-8105041867064275954?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Every year people complain that Christmas is so commercialized and it is taking away from the true meaning of Christmas. But every year when they role out the decorations in late September, early October we all start browsing the shelves. Why? Well I believe it is because that we are searching for all the warm fuzzy feelings that Christmas brings us. Christmas seems to bring out the good and selflessness of our human nature. We spend most of the year thinking of and trying to make ends meet. Trying to get through this life the best we can. We get so wound up in working, carpooling, little league, soccer, school and payday to payday...we forget all about faith and caring.&lt;br /&gt;
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Christmas cheer and love seems to see no boundaries. People caring about each other in way they don't the rest of the year. They have faith that nothing is impossible. Reaching out and giving a piece of themselves, sharing love and bounty. This is the time we know that the Gift of Giving is a blessing in itself.&amp;nbsp; Oh how good it feels to give. I think about this every year. If we all carried a little bit of Christmas in our pockets all year long, how much better would our lives be. The blessings we receive by giving could be had all year long. &lt;br /&gt;
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God gave us his son on Christmas Day. A baby child that would be a King.What makes it even more special, is that he knew he would give his life for us. God knew that giving from the heart was a blessing. My Christmas wish this year...That we all put a piece of Christmas in our pockets and feel that magic all year long. Let's remember that God's love is contagious and when we start sharing it, it spreads. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fvasr_3prl0mxnWnKWa0YnQeuN0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fvasr_3prl0mxnWnKWa0YnQeuN0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/LYF8iQJI4jA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/2855857111842088308/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=2855857111842088308" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/2855857111842088308?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/2855857111842088308?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/LYF8iQJI4jA/christmas-in-our-pockets.html" title="Christmas in our Pockets" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-in-our-pockets.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEMQHw6eCp7ImA9WhdWEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-1078789936378474257</id><published>2011-09-05T23:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T23:34:41.210-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-05T23:34:41.210-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Social Networking" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David Slade" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Peter Facinelli And Twittering" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="diane chamberlain" /><title>Septemeber 5, 2011</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Okay, I know that I am suppose to be writing here every day...Hmmm I wonder what happened to that. I guess I could make up a bunch of excuses, but the main one...is that every time I think of it, I can't think of anything to write. So here I am determined to write today. I feel like I am lost in la la land with out a reason or purpose. How easy it is to let this danged depression rule me. Or use it for an excuse for not living life. So sitting here scratching my head, I think I will do some rambling.&lt;br /&gt;
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First ramble of the evening... Omgoodness. David Slade the director just answered my Tweet...how funny..So now I have something to write about...It isn't about David so much, but more like how small the world became because of the internet and social networking.&amp;nbsp; I have met so many people in this world. We got our first computer in 1996. Since then, I have made friends from almost every continent. I have acquaintances and I have friends. We have never met face to face, but they are my friend. I know about their families, lives, pets and jobs. And this because of a little box that hooks to a modem and sends messages around the world. It has opened up our worlds and made them smaller and smaller.&lt;br /&gt;
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I look at the people I have met and know that in the past, that would not have happened.. Meeting them seems like an impossible dream. I have spoken to movie stars, authors, people from different countries and the list goes on and on. David Slade for instance...He was working on one of my "Obsession driven favorite Movies" and he would Tweet updates. That in it's self is awesome. And I followed him and still do. Tonight I answered one of his Tweets, and he answered me back. There you go.. Sarah Joy Brown, Carolyn Hennesy, Scott Grimes...just a few of the "Stars" that have answered me. I met a world renowned author on a support group. @&lt;a class="user-profile-link user-screen-name" data-user-id="17837559" href="http://twitter.com/#%21/D_Chamberlain"&gt;D_Chamberlain&lt;/a&gt; I consider her to be a good friend...even though I can't get her to do a book signing in Oklahoma. Just kidding, Diane.&lt;br /&gt;
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I have to say that having celebrities on Twitter makes them seem more human and real. You get to see the non celebrity side of them without the cameras and paparazzi. They tweet bits and pieces of their lives just like we do. They take their kids to school, they go out to dinner, they go to the dentist......it is amazing about how plain their lives are. But on the other hand, when some of the newer stars will tweet about what is going on in their lives and it is refreshing to hear the excitement in the tweets. When they are thanking their fans or surprised&amp;nbsp; at something they are experiencing ...well it&amp;nbsp; puts a smile on my face to see that they appreciate it all. &lt;br /&gt;
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Of all the things I could be writing about, this seems a little shallow. However it is just one of those little things that makes me happy. It doesn't take much, does it?&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cuX76hB5A0_n0iRZxG6hsPJyvYA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cuX76hB5A0_n0iRZxG6hsPJyvYA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/aq6F7GSI7eU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="related" href="http://twitter.com/#" title="Septemeber 5, 2011" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/1078789936378474257/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=1078789936378474257" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/1078789936378474257?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/1078789936378474257?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/aq6F7GSI7eU/labor-day.html" title="Septemeber 5, 2011" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/09/labor-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8NQXc4fip7ImA9WhdQGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-3986089996515753674</id><published>2011-08-20T23:53:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T00:01:30.936-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-21T00:01:30.936-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Twilight" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Script" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Breaking Dawn&quot;" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="five for fighting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cold Play" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Time" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="music" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="One Republic" /><title>My Obsessions and Time</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;My Obsessions maybe small in numbers, however, that doesn't mean they are small by any means. It is that time of year again that my Birthday comes along and I begin to dwell on TIME again. I figure that I am not the only one that feels this way, but no one seems to ever really want to discuss it with me.&amp;nbsp; I mean some things you have in common with friends, you hash and rehash over and over. I can't get anyone to talk about this. Does no one else care? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This past two years I have expanded my appreciation for music. I went from listening to mainly the softer rock of my youth, to country, to oldies, to easy listening.&amp;nbsp; Eventually I quit listening. Music was painful. I don't know why. Somewhere, somehow when I became aware of my other obsession that we will revisit a little later, I began to listen again. And it was during this year that I began to work at the school with 7th and 8th graders. Possibly hanging with younger kids at this point in my life, opened my mind and heart to changes.&amp;nbsp; So now I love "The Script" "One Republic" "Five For Fighting" "Train" "Lifehouse" my favorite idol, "David Cook" "Cold Play" "Katy Perry" "Linkin Park" Some other bands that played on soundtracks from "my other obsession" &lt;br /&gt;
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"Five For Fighting" sings a song "100 years". I had never listened to the words..But somehow they seem to express my twisted up and strange feelings about time. Anna is 15 this year, and I want to say "Listen Sweetie, see how time doesn't stand still and while your wishing you were older, getting there is the fun part. Once the journey gets you there, you realize It is the Journey. There is not enough time when you reach that important milestone to sit back and just be it...I just thought of something...remember when you get a brand new hair cut. And it really isn't what you want, it is always a little too short. Two weeks later, it has grown, you have learned to style it and finally ..finally, There it is. what you wanted in the first place...Perfect...Well for one week if you are lucky... you are a master at styling it and it just looks great...And you go to bed one night and wake up the next day, getting ready for work or school. And guess what...extremely "Bad Hair Day" number 1 and ok...tomorrow will be better...Nope Really Bad Hair day number 2.&amp;nbsp; What happened to perfect hair...and you realize that moment has come and gone. Well this is how the time in our lives pass. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://1.gvt0.com/vi/1O3yeMAGCSE/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1O3yeMAGCSE&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1O3yeMAGCSE&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As the song "100 Years" goes... Your 15 for a moment.... And you still have time. You&amp;nbsp; got 100 years to go. Well that seems so long.... As the song goes, 55 and half your life your getting wise and then your 67... Well my dad lived to be 67. Seems old when you are&amp;nbsp; 15...but at 55 or in my case 54...67 is only 13 years...and my Lilly girl would only be 15 years if I went then...&lt;br /&gt;
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I watched a trailer for a movie tonight...realized that the idea would make a great book that I wish I had written. But then...I am sure the book is already written and so there I go again...wasting time while others are writing my books. I digress... The movies concept from how I saw it was that No one ever aged over 25 years old. Now just because you didn't age, didn't mean you wouldn't die. You were allotted so much time, and I guess you had to buy time literally. The plot it seems is that a rich man that had lived 100 years...ironic huh, was tired of living. He was willing to trade it to another man that wasn't rich and was having trouble buying his time. I think this is a very good story. I wonder if taking some of that idea and putting it on my own story would be plagiarism. I mean there are a bunch of stories out there with some common story lines, that are different. It sounds like a great subject for me to write about. Time....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I am rambling again, so here goes...my other obsession...hmmmph..Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn. I should say part 1, but the fact is, it is just one book and since the books are my real obsession,&amp;nbsp; and the actors and movies come in a close second, Don't get me wrong I love my actors and the way they play the characters is really awesome. What I have trouble with is .....the screen play...but we have to take what they give us. If Stephenie had written the script...well it would have to be better. Here is hoping that she had more say in these last two movies...Time shouldn't be a problem since it is two movies. Also...another one of my pet peeves about the movie. Through out the books, when ever Bella was upset, tired , or restless....Edward would sing, hum or play her lullaby. Now I am guessing the reason it was left out of the last two movies, was because of 1. Legal reasons....some sort of copyright contract thingy...or just the directors and Melissa being stupid. ..But now that we have the original composer from the first movie as well as Stephenie being one of the producers and being on location...Well you know...and I am crossing my fingers and toes..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well I am truly rambling now and so I am going to end this very long blog. Have a great end to your weekend. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BfSplboKCSGUR_3Tn5A5IQv7tik/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BfSplboKCSGUR_3Tn5A5IQv7tik/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/CLqLXuzPeOA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/3986089996515753674/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=3986089996515753674" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/3986089996515753674?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/3986089996515753674?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/CLqLXuzPeOA/my-obsessions-and-time.html" title="My Obsessions and Time" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/08/my-obsessions-and-time.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8BRXs_eyp7ImA9WhdQEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-2209980817523937418</id><published>2011-08-12T18:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T18:14:14.543-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-12T18:14:14.543-05:00</app:edited><title>This HOT Summer</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I cannot believe that we go back to school in just 6 days and how we did nothing all summer except try and stay cool. Not very successfully I might add. If you have lived in this heat wave, you know exactly what I mean. We are closing in on breaking the record for the Hottest Summer on Record. 1980 holds that record right now, but we are very near to shattering it. Closing on the record 50 100+ days we have gotten some relief this past week. The drought rages on, but we are getting some rain and this has cooled temps down below the 100's that have become common. As we have acclimated to the mid and high 100's, 98 to 102 seems to be "cool". Our morning temps have dipped below 80 and the 70's seem quite cool, almost cold.&lt;br /&gt;
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So many people have to work outdoors in this extreme heat. It has been dangerous. I am blessed that I have a cool place to live. My ac has been working hard, but we have stayed cool. With the heat and drought, wild fires have been plenty. Those working to keep our state safe have given so much.&lt;br /&gt;
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Then we have to remember that while it is hot here, our Troops in Irag and Afghanistan are enduring much harsher conditions. While they are there serving our Country and doing the job we have asked them to do, they have no relief. Sort of puts all this in some kind of perspective, huh.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
So bring on the rest of the 100's and let's break this record we have been fighting for. September is not far away and hopefully it will bring some wonderful weather with lots of rain&amp;nbsp; just in time for the Fair...&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DGzLg3UROlqV3TP9JdRX0muZoc0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DGzLg3UROlqV3TP9JdRX0muZoc0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/uB6CBFA8Di0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/2209980817523937418/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=2209980817523937418" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/2209980817523937418?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/2209980817523937418?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/uB6CBFA8Di0/this-hot-summer.html" title="This HOT Summer" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/08/this-hot-summer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIMQX85eyp7ImA9WhdQEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-879382833505117705</id><published>2011-06-22T02:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T17:36:20.123-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-12T17:36:20.123-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mark Twain" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="composition" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="John Steinbeck" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="aliens" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Writers" /><title>Trying to be a Writer</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I want to be able to take all these thoughts of mine and put them down in a way that makes other people want to read them. I want to write short stories and novels. So I am on a quest now trying to learn to put these words down for others to read. I have been told before that I have no imagination. I disagree. If you had ever been in one of my dreams, you would tell a different story. However, bringing those dreams to paper is not easy. I cannot write eloquently or cleverly. My words seem to run together and I have a difficult time using words with meat. Instead I find myself rewriting over and over again words and sentences that belong in the early "Dick and Jane" books. Why can't I remember all those vocabulary words that we had to write and write and write in school? Why can't my brain&amp;nbsp; unlock some of the things I learned in school. I know that I made A's in English and Grammar. I must have been in 2nd grade all 12 years. Or else, an Alien stole me from my home when I was 8 or 9 and induced me into a coma, while my alien look alike went to school, made all the great grades and then somewhere right before graduation, switched us back. Even now I am not using proper grammar or punctuation and I am running sentences together. I am blaming it on the late hour and the fact that I just read different authors advice to writers. Just write it and you can correct it later. I think I like that advice. However, don't look for me to correct this one, because it is still late.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=0143039431&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&amp;nbsp;I stumbled on advice from one of the greats, &lt;a href="http://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/steinbeck/steinbeck.html"&gt;John Steinbeck&lt;/a&gt;. He said that in school, he was told he should just move to England, because there being poor is a hardship, here in the US it is shameful. And that becoming a writer takes a long time. The great depression happened about that time, so everyone in America was poor ...He decided that he would never know if he was shameful, But the teacher was right about one thing....It does take a long time. His low scores on his College stories and the hundreds of rejection slips he got was not what he expected. He could read great stories but never really figured out why he couldn't.write them. Well his advice was just to write them and take his chances. We know how that worked for him. I think that I will keep writing, but I had better take some of those basic writing classes as well. I am getting started a little later in life than he did and I was abducted by aliens for at least 8 of my schooling years.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For many years I would read a book and think ...okay I am going to write a book now. Pick up my pencil and paper and sit there...And say Chapter One...She looked out the window.......it was raining, cloudy......hmmmmmmmmm hmmmmmmm. Well of course I can't write, because I have never been anywhere or done anything. How can I write about something I don't know. Excuse number 1....I don't have time for this...Excuse number 2....If I was a real writer, the words would just fall on the page...Excuse number 3...If if if if if if if if if if....I don't have a type writer (remember, I was born before computers, heck I had a manual typewriter in Typing Class) Then I don't have a word processor...If I had a computer...If I had a laptop....If if if if if if if if ...I did write some in journals, but thought I was too boring....Then I had a thought...Writing is a job...it is WORK..oh no..it suppose to be all fun if I was a real writer...then ..here come those words falling on the paper before I even thought them again....&lt;br /&gt;
So now I am ready to be real. The last couple of years I have had a few real writing jobs. Blogging for a cell phone company, doing a little web content. I got paid..Now I am a real writer. I figure if I got a check for writing, I must be real.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=0778329860&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;I am serious now and I believe I can at least write for my own pleasure. One friend I met, &lt;a href="http://www.dianechamberlain.com/"&gt;Diane Chamberlain&lt;/a&gt;, she has told me personally that her advice to new writers, is to take a class in composition and grammar. She has read more than a few great stories that were just badly written. So I am researching and compiling advice from successful writers. My daughter in law has suggested that I go to college. I am 50+ years old and sure that I would have to go to remedial college. I did tell her that I would take a writing class, and see how it goes. Who knows, maybe I will be a college student after all. Although it didn't do that much for John Steinbeck or Mark Twain, I am sure it can only be a positive experience for me. Oh, I forgot to mention that I am a long lost cousin of Mr.Clemmens.&amp;nbsp; Surely this apple has not fallen really far from the trees...Just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well this is a red letter day; 2 blog post in one day:) And also, I am going to have to remember to not use all this texting jargon stuff.. I remember in class one day, a student asked me to read her short story. She was using U for you and LOL and I told her the story was very good, but she wasn't sending a text message. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I get like this, I can ramble for hours making absolutely no sense. So for now, I think I will go to bed, dream and try to put those dreams on paper tomorrow...Maybe the aliens will take me again and send the smart Cindy back down until I finish a book and get it published. Sweet dreams for everyone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-879382833505117705?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fKtI9f0QwTf_T1V9eXh62ppeg5Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fKtI9f0QwTf_T1V9eXh62ppeg5Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/uVu4o0nyep8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/879382833505117705/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=879382833505117705" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/879382833505117705?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/879382833505117705?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/uVu4o0nyep8/trying-to-be-writer.html" title="Trying to be a Writer" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/06/trying-to-be-writer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YERHk_eip7ImA9WhZbF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-6199531668110257386</id><published>2011-06-22T00:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T00:05:05.742-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-22T00:05:05.742-05:00</app:edited><title>June 22, 1978 Happy Birthday Lyssa</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;On this day 33 years ago, I was in the delivery room with a new baby girl squirming on my belly while the nurses were rubbing her down and the doctor was cutting the cord. Mike and I sharing one of the 3 happiest days of our lives. She was my second born and I was sure she was going to be a boy. I remember telling Mike as we were celebrating, that I guess we didn't know how to have a boy. And he was telling me that was quite okay as he was beaming from ear to ear for his brand new daughter.&amp;nbsp; I didn't know then that she would become my very best friend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have 3 children and I love them all with every ounce of my soul. Each one a different individual with different degrees of me and their dad and themselves that add up to be a whole person. Why then is Lyssa my best friend? I think it is because we think alike. We are not alike in the way that we do things, but the reasons behind them, I think are more alike than my other two. She and I enjoy doing the same things.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lately we haven't been on the same page. We are not connecting as we have in the past. I choose to believe this is just a glitch in time and we will find our way back. She has some broken things in her life right now. I cannot fix these as much as I wish I could. I can't put a band aid on it and kiss the boo boo and the tears. I have to let her find her own way. I choose to believe that she will make the right choices in the end. Her babies need her to be whole again and I pray that God will lead her to the answers she needs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She is beautiful, young, determined. She loves her family and friends and she tries to make the best of all that life gives her. I could not be prouder of what she has accomplished. She has learned some hard life lessons, she has had to pay the consequences of some very bad choices. When she figures out how to forgive herself, she will be able to put her life back together again. Right now she is just moving through the motions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lyssa, my birthday wish for you is very simple. I want you to remember who you are. Forgive yourself as others have already done. Figure out what it is you want and need. And put you back together again. Don't settle for less and keep reaching for the Golden Ring...I love you baby girl and I need you to be happy again.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-6199531668110257386?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DySBhRs362mPGI8KJF73bFUKv-Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DySBhRs362mPGI8KJF73bFUKv-Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/-99bvNzlteQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/6199531668110257386/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=6199531668110257386" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/6199531668110257386?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/6199531668110257386?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/-99bvNzlteQ/june-22-1978-happy-birthday-lyssa.html" title="June 22, 1978 Happy Birthday Lyssa" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/06/june-22-1978-happy-birthday-lyssa.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEACQX0zfSp7ImA9WhZbFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-5647624386165064041</id><published>2011-06-21T00:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T00:06:00.385-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-21T00:06:00.385-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Peach Orchard" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Granny" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Berry patch" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Farm" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Texas" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Summer" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="green beans" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chickens" /><title>One Week a Year</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Granny and Amos lived in Joshua, TX. This was about 9 miles from my house in Cleburne. And after we moved to Oklahoma, it was a short 211 miles. Living on about 16 acres, a mini farm. And although they both had day jobs, they were able to raise a few "crops" to help with their finances. Granny worked as a cook at the hospital in Cleburne. She was very proud of her job and the fact she had perfect attendance. Amos was my step grandfather and he worked at a convenience store.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She had two weeks vacation a year.&amp;nbsp; One week of that vacation, my brother and I spent at Granny's house. For some reason, memories of my childhood are sort of sketchy, but these are some of my best ones. In the 60's and early 70's, life seemed simpler. &lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B004EBUZUG&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They didn't have an air conditioner and I can't remember them having even a "Water Cooler". Well I think they did get a water cooler, but they didn't always have one. How did they do that? It was hot in the summer in the middle of Texas. My Granny and Amos slept in separate beds&amp;nbsp; and rooms. Mostly because she snored like a freight train. I am a lot like my Granny. Her bed was on the back porch. This back porch was screened in and in the winter time, the windows were sealed up. However, in the summer, the covers came off and the room was open on 3 sides. I know now that this is how they were able to sleep. We would take a bath of an evening and go straight to bed. When complaining about the heat, they would call us "Softys,&amp;nbsp; Softys"... And we would go to bed very early. When we would say something about it, She would say "You are not at your Daddy's house right now, You are at your Granny's." There wasn't much time for TV, but they did have one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They lived in a small house on 16 acres I think. The house set back from the road and between the house and the road was a&amp;nbsp; peach orchard. I can so remember the taste of those peaches picked from the tree. The peach fuzz sticking your chin while the sweet warm juice of the peach ran down your chin. Yummy. The smell of the hot dirt between your toes. Between the peach trees and the house, was the front yard. In the front yard were a line of mimosa trees. I loved those trees. Climbing the trees was out of the question, but we still did it. In the afternoon the front yard was shaded with the trees. Amos showed us how to use quilts and rope to make hammocks. So we each made our own hammock. The scents of the afternoon sun beating down on the trees and warming the hammocks. They had St.Augustine grass in the front. It was so nice to walk barefooted on that grass. Unlike at our house where we had stickers, and had to wear shoes outside or pay the consequences. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now Granny had a blackberry patch. She raised and sold blackberries. Her berry money she used to buy something she wanted. I remember when she bought a new kitchen stove. It was yellow and had two ovens. One on the top and one on the bottom. Even when she moved to town later, she had that stove.Amos grew green beans and sold them in town.&amp;nbsp; Our time there also include helping with the chores. We had to help pick green beans. Even when he didn't have to plow the fields, he would give us rides. He would sit on his lap and steer. That was so much fun. When the peaches were ripe, we would help him pick those as well. Sometime in there, and I don't remember if it was the week we spent there, or later in the year, we would get together and make home made ice cream. My uncle had a new fangled electric ice cream maker, but Amos had one that we had to hand turn. How much fun that was to take turns turning the handle. And when it got too hard for us, Amos or Dad would take over. The fresh blackberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream was so delicious just not my favorite. My favorite was the fresh peach ice cream. No cobbler, just ice cream. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;When I was really young, Granny had an old fashion washer. The one where you washed in the washer, than used the wringer to wring them out into the rinse water. Then you would run them through the ringer one more time and we would hang them on the clothes line. Laundry had the most wonderful fragrance in the whole world. I loved sleeping on those sheets. She eventually got a new washing machine,&amp;nbsp; but we still hung out all the clothes. I did miss the old washer, I am sure she didn't. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We didn't eat cereal at Granny's house. Every morning we had eggs, bacon and either biscuits and gravy or toast. She always ate tomatoes with hers. And she let us drink coffee. Of course it was mostly milk, we would pour it from our cup into a saucer and drink it. This was something we learned from her mother, my great grandma. Dipping our biscuits in the coffee, we thought we were grown up. She had chickens also, therefore she had fresh eggs. Some of her hens would lay brown eggs and some were white. Amos complained about the chickens all the time. They were too noisy for him...We loved loved the chickens.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am sure all the memories are faded and colored, but remembering them, makes me smile. I hope that when my grand kids remember our days together, they remember only the good times. Remembering happy times spent with your grandparents, should help you when you are spending time with your grand children.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/L7Il0xuEZsjRz7y0YTbCs1WJdy0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/L7Il0xuEZsjRz7y0YTbCs1WJdy0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/-ZfttqDbn-4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/5647624386165064041/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=5647624386165064041" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/5647624386165064041?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/5647624386165064041?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/-ZfttqDbn-4/one-week-year.html" title="One Week a Year" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/06/one-week-year.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQGRH8-eyp7ImA9WhZbEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-7723237888345042931</id><published>2011-06-13T23:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T23:05:25.153-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-13T23:05:25.153-05:00</app:edited><title>Repost /Life with Cindy: Things To Do Before I am 18 or Before I Die</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/01/things-to-do-before-i-am-18-or-before-i.html?spref=bl"&gt;Life with Cindy: Things To Do Before I am 18 or Before I Die&lt;/a&gt;: "My 14 year old Granddaughter posted this statement or question on Facebook. Well of course I answered it. It went something like this.... I ..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-7723237888345042931?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I needed to find a job that would help with some of our finances. I had to be able to work short hours and be able to work only when my health would let me. I knew a few people who had been substituting. I was torn as being a teacher had never crossed my mind. I had worked in a day care during high school. I also had 3 children of my own. I loved my kids, but others got on my last good nerve very easily. After giving it some thought, I decided to try it. After all, I could always quit. That last sentence makes me laugh now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My first year I worked at several schools, and was trying to figure it all out. I got a call from CJH. And here is what I figured out. I love the babies; Pre School and Kindergarten and even 1 st and 2 nd grade, These children love you. And then you have the "Zombies", which translates to High School Students. Of course they aren't all bad, but you never know from one minute to the other what is going to happen. Hello...I am the teacher, you can't just get up and leave. Sorry...And then we have the JR High gang. The majority of these kids are good and they are transitioning now from that little boy or girl into young ladies and gentlemen...You know that Transition Juice that is made up of Hormones and surge through the body causing them to malfunction. So you have the little ones that love, love, love you and have an attention span of about 2 1/2 minutes. You have the High School kids that don't need you because they already know everything. I prefer the middle kids. These have to be my favorite age. Well, people have called me crazy before. They also worry that I have lost my mind. I don't want to burst the bubble, but I am not sure I have ever had one to lose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My granddaughter Anna, was in the 7th grade at CJH when I started. It was nice to spend time with her and meet her friends. I became known as either Ms. Mathes or Grandma. These young kids are still trying to make up their minds on the things they've learned.. Still waiting on waking up and KNOWing everything. And lastly, Administration at CJH has made me feel Golden. They treat me like I am doing them a huge favor and I am trying to figure out if they would let me work even if they don't pay me.&lt;br /&gt;
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In the first two years I worked here, I got to experience all classes and students. From the Extremely Handicapped and Autistic children to the Students with Top Honors and those slightly out of tuned ones that land in ISD on a regular basis. I love them all. This past year I spent all my days in the extremely handicapped classroom. This didn't stop me from loving all my students. Every chance I got, I was out mingling with my other kids. I know that the students think I am pretty crazy, but they are good natured about it. And while they still have trouble showing respect 100 percent of time, I think they do respect me.&lt;br /&gt;
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My year in the classroom full of God's "Angels" ended on May 26. And I have learned so much. We forget sometimes when we care for them, that they are people. And they may not see, or hear as well and we really are not so sure what they understand. One of our girls is blind and so tiny and bent. It is easy just to walk up to her and start wiping her face or sticking the spoon in her mouth. I don't know when I realized that speaking to her before I touched her was so important. And touching her and kissing her forehead. Another of our angels, I learned to hold her hands when I would talk to her. Instead of talking at her or around her, when you hold her hand, she seems to listen. One young man walks around in another world most of the time bouncing his ball. And we would go for walks and you wonder how far away he really is when the look he has in his eyes looks to be about a 1,000 miles. And one day as I was caring for him, he leaned in for a very sloppy kiss. I could write and write about my kids, but then I would end up giving you names and that isn't allowed. I just know that these kids stole my heart. They accepted me into their world and gave me so much joy. On that last day of school, I realized that for two of my angels, I would not see them again. They have moved on. I hope that their new school and teachers will know them and see into their hearts and souls. Give them the respect and dignity they deserve. Maybe I will have to visit at WMHS and check in.&lt;br /&gt;
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In August when I return to my journey, I will be joined at CJH by my grandson Billy Michael. He has some learning disabilities with a main diagnosis of Autism. I can't wait to be there with him. To help him feel comfortable and learn to love the school as much as I do. I will be returning to the general population so to speak, seeing all the students in different classes. Getting to know the 7th and 8th graders this year. With little contact or knowledge of the new 8th graders, it will feel like that first day 3 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;
I also will be thinking about that day 1969 when I first walked into CJH as a student in the 7th grade. This school is always like coming home for me. I feel like Peter Pan in the land where I never have to grow up.&lt;br /&gt;
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I can't finish this blog with out thanking a few of the people I have been blessed to know. First of all, the administration. Mr.Peak you have gone out of your way to accommodate me this year. You could have filled my position at any time. I am sure it would have made it easier. Your understanding in all of this has been another testimony of the person you are. The students at CJH are so fortunate to have you in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;
Ms. Terry Sanders,You have been such a blessing to me. Your effort to give me the best and most positive experience every day has not gone unnoticed. You have been so good to me and given me so many opportunities. I can't thank you enough. Really, you should get a raise. The teachers at CJH are so welcoming to me. I am sure I am not the exception. You treat your subs with respect. Like I have said before. You make make me feel golden. I have heard some horror stories from other schools. Also, the librarians, are also available and help me anytime I need them.&amp;nbsp; Thank you CJH. Even our janitors go out of their way to make us welcome.&lt;br /&gt;
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Our classroom consists of one lead teacher and 4 paras. In January we welcomed a new lead teacher into our classroom. Cindy worked very hard and long to get her degrees and pass her test to work in a classroom like ours.Thank you, Cindy for allowing me to continue to work the year out. Our kids need consistency with as little change as possible. We had been going through many changes with the leaving of our head teacher and other para. Then my 3 co workers. We had a great team and everyone was considerate of each other and all of you just dug in and we got things done. You always treated me as an equal even though...I was "Just a Sub".Miss Becca, Miss Coach Oliver and Miss Holly. I love you guys and will miss working with you. We became great friends I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; Two other teachers came in every day to work with our kids. Coach D.Eddy and Ms. Beaty.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Coach Eddy was the PE teacher for our kids. We both were alumni from CJH. Best part of that, he will always be older than me. He also made me feel golden.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ms. Beaty was our 5th hour teacher. She came in everyday and taught our students about science and geography. She loved our kids and entertained us. I could talk to her for hours, as I always learn something new when she is there. I can hardly wait for her to be a part of my grand children's education. She is in the lab classes and she will have probably 3 of them. I know she can't wait to retire and move to New Zealand, however I had to tell her NO, not yet. Ms. Beaty truly loves her job and the kids. I will miss working with you both everyday. I know I will see you, but it won't be quite the same.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I know I am leaving out more thank yous and praises, but I have to end this soon. If I wrote around the clock about the Administration, Faculty, Support employees, and the students at CJH, I could not praise them enough, or let them know how much I love them. So I am finally shutting up and leave you with this; Goodbye for now. Enjoy your summer, I will see you at the beginning of the 2011/20012 school year if you let me.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-7680169679989711577?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IPqX02jD0l8NjQEJdSwuBl6zRGo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IPqX02jD0l8NjQEJdSwuBl6zRGo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/NtPlMQUwqwc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/7680169679989711577/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=7680169679989711577" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/7680169679989711577?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/7680169679989711577?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/NtPlMQUwqwc/classroom-cjh-20102011.html" title="Classroom CJH 2010/2011" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/06/classroom-cjh-20102011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEBRn45fip7ImA9WhZRGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-3549075410657399189</id><published>2011-04-16T00:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T01:17:37.026-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-16T01:17:37.026-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Carol Stock Krnowitz" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Aspergers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grandsons" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Temple Grandin" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="autism" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sensory integration" /><title>Autism Awareness prt 2/ Ryan</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Ryan David Kenneth Mathis was born on October 3, 2000. The most beautiful baby boy. He was my 3rd grandchild, 2nd grandson and my son's first baby. We were on cloud nine. He seemed to be perfect, but &lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=0307739589&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=1932565728&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;Wendy had a feeling something was wrong. He talked sort of early, but even as an infant, he didn't really like to be cuddled and held. He wanted down. And as soon as he could walk, my goodness, we almost wished it was legal to tie him up. Just joking. But he was so busy. And still Wendy, his mom, thought there was something that wasn't right. Oh we told her he was just an independent baby. He stopped talking about the age of 1, but he was on the go. He could climb, he could instant message on the computer. He didn't know how to spell the words, but he definitely had the concept down. But before the time he was 3 we knew there was something different about Ryan. She had him evaluated by a program here in Oklahoma called Sooner Start. And they agreed. Although he didn't have a dx, they gave him a learning disability and when he was 3 years old, he started school. &lt;br /&gt;
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Wendy did all the research she could on the Internet. She talked to his doctors and teachers, but they still acted like he would grow out of what ever was going on. Now he had a baby brother before he was two. His name is Noah. Noah was talking to us using words like Mama,Daddy, cup,bottle and ball. And then when he was about 6 months, he stopped. They had some things in common, but they were as different as day and night. Noah had to bounce and swing. He would climb and run. Ryan needed things quite. He had to be still. Noises had to be low. He cried and cried when we made him play out in my back yard, because when the train would go by blowing the horn, he acted terrified. I was seeing a counselor about this time dealing with depression. Of course I talked about my grandchildren non stop. One day he suggested that I read the book."The Out of Sync Child" by &lt;span id="search"&gt;Carol Stock Kranowitz. The lights came on. We were dealing with Sensory Integration. The book described Ryan and Noah to the T.&amp;nbsp;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=0399523863&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt; Wendy finally had a starting point. Reading this book, she had something tangible that she could use to describe her boys. She was given a referral to the Oklahoma Child Study Center by the boys physician. Both of the boys were evaluated and they got their diagnosis. Autism...Both boys on the spectrum.We have since learned that the spectrum is huge. There are so many symptoms and no two people have all the same ones. I describe it as the Autism Store where all the symptoms are on a shelf, and you go in and choose as many as you want. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;I am talking about Ryan today. Awesome boy. Of course I am the grandma, what else will I say?&amp;nbsp; He looks at life so literally. To him the world is Black and White. He does not see the gray side. He will say exactly what he sees. If you are fat, he will tell you. He isn't trying to hurt your feelings, he has trouble figuring out why exactly that would hurt your feelings. To him there is only one definition of most words. Hot means just the opposite of Cold. Sometimes this can be so funny. But of course it isn't. If you have ever seen "The Temple Grandin Story"&amp;nbsp; you will understand how he sees things. Now I can imagine how he sees life. When he was first evaluated they told us that he was short a couple of symptoms that would give him a diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome. If he doesn't have Asperger's, then he certainly has most of the symptoms.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;He is so precious and easy to love. And even though he has trouble recognizing facial expressions and body language, he has no trouble expressing his love for his family. His heart is huge. Appropriate responses to some situations is one of the aspects of his life he has trouble with. Again Temple Grandin was able to tell the story so well. Using visual cues, her family taught her how to better read people's expressions. Her professor at school never gave up on her and encouraged her to get an education. He believed she could and she took that encouragement and made herself. I know that Ryan will be able to do the same.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;He is in the fourth grade this year. It has not been the easiest for him. While he is at his grade level and excels in most areas, he has trouble staying on task. He has an aide that helps him with this. Mainstreamed in some of his classes with peers that are "normal" he still has classes in the resource room.&amp;nbsp; I am so proud of him and cannot wait to see what he accomplishes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;In third grade last year, he entered a contest that was state wide. It could be a poem, story or art project. He wrote an essay about the ocean. This was his favorite place to be. Describing everything from the sun and wind in his face to tasting the salt in the air. Sounds impressive...Right? Especially since he has never seen the ocean. His was selected by the PTA at his school first as the winner of the 3rd grade and then he was chosen to represent his entire school at the next level of the contest.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="search"&gt;I think he just may be a writer, and doesn't even know it yet. In 2nd grade, he wrote for me, three comic books complete with illustrations. 3 stories of Captain Underpants. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;When he was only 3 years old, he had 2 brothers. Noah was born when he was 16 months old, and Ashton was born when he was 2 years and 10 months old. Wendy had her hands full.&amp;nbsp; Lloyd worked all the time as the GM of a Taco Bell. And one evening while he was at work, Wendy was bringing laundry from the garage into the kitchen. She fell and was sitting on the floor almost in tears of frustration and asked Ryan to help her.&amp;nbsp; Ryan got the telephone and called 911 and brought it to her. He said "Mom, I got you some help".&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;He has been helping her ever since. Now there are 5 of them. He has a brother named Brody that is normal. He shows no signs of Autism. A baby sister, Lilly, was born in August 2009. She also shows no signs of Autism. Ryan takes on the responsibility of Big Brother and is a big help to Mom and Dad.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;He loves birds and snakes. Bird watching in my back yard is one of his favorite things to do. He doesn't have much interest in fiction books. In fact he and Billy Michael had a disagreement the other day about the Hump Back Whale. He insisted that the Hump Back Whale has 2 blow holes. Billy Michael was not having it. Wendy told Ryan to just let it go. He whispered to her, "It is because he doesn't read non fiction books".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;He loves to watch wrestling with his Dad and has already chosen a name for when he joins the circuit. He puts his clothes on backwards and wrong side out. I tell him that it is okay. His grandma, Me, use to do the same thing. Hence my nickname, Doodle Bug. He thinks that is funny.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;He is a typical 10 year old with the same hopes and dreams as other kids his age. Life to him may look a little different, but he not oblivious to that. He realizes he has Autism. He is trying to figure out exactly which parts of his life are colored by it and which parts are not. God couldn't have chosen a more perfect mom and dad for him. He and Billy Michael have many conversations about their Autism. Between the two of them, they have come up with solutions and conclusions all on their own. Right now, this is enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;Once again I speak of Awareness. While we can talk night and day now about Autism, it took us a long time to get here. There is so much out there, but people have got to know that when they hear the word Autism, it is not Rain Man. While Rain Man certainly had Autism, he was also a Savant. This is not typical.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span id="search"&gt;These children do tend to find one subject that interest them and they will teach you everything you wanted to know and everything you didn't about the subject. It just isn't common for them to be a savant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;We need to educate people about early intervention. While the State of Oklahoma has a very good program in Sooner Start, the earliest that children can be placed into school programs is 3 years of age. It is important that we get to them sooner. The ideal time for intervention is 18 to 36 months. Having said that, they will come into your home and work with your children. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span id="search"&gt;I will leave on this note. Be aware of the children in your life. Know the symptoms. If there is a child you are concerned with, talk with the parents. Encourage them to call and set up an evaluation. There is no harm in having a child evaluated. Early intervention is so important. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-3549075410657399189?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ovhBCQ6RdBiYQc1uS7ROJotfVAI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ovhBCQ6RdBiYQc1uS7ROJotfVAI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/HOAXtyw3pro" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/3549075410657399189/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=3549075410657399189" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/3549075410657399189?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/3549075410657399189?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/HOAXtyw3pro/autism-awareness-prt-2-ryan.html" title="Autism Awareness prt 2/ Ryan" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/04/autism-awareness-prt-2-ryan.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UARnk9eCp7ImA9WhZRFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-6858157461449780727</id><published>2011-04-12T00:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T00:14:07.760-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-12T00:14:07.760-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grandkids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Aspergers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="disibility" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grandsons" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Out of Sync Child" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="autism" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Awareness" /><title>April is Autism Awareness Month</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;You know I started out to write about my daughter in-law. And as I wrote more and more it got longer and longer and all the grandkids were there. I just kept going off topic even though it was still the topic. I decided that the best thing I can do is to write multiple post about Autism this month.&lt;br /&gt;
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I decided the first post would be about AWARENESS. I mean this has crossed my mind several times when I posted something on &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1115161283"&gt;Facebook&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/#"&gt;Twitter &lt;/a&gt;. I would think, how does Awareness help us. It isn't anything tangible like say money or research. The answer sort of crept up on me.&lt;br /&gt;
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First of all, I work with some of the most loving and unselfish ladies at school. I am sort of a permanent substitute this year. Long story for later. But the classroom I have been in is labeled&amp;nbsp; Severely and Profound Multiple Disabilities. And while autism is a small part of some of their histories, it is there. We have a new teacher that has worked with Autistic children for sometime now while getting her degree. She is also an older new teacher. The other 3 ladies working in the classroom are so in tune while still learning. Of course my history is with my 4 autistic grandsons. Rebecca is versed pretty well also as she has a daughter with &lt;a href="http://www.aspergers.com/"&gt;Aspergers Syndrome&lt;/a&gt;, which is part of the spectrum. We make quite a team.&lt;br /&gt;
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We discuss our kids a lot. And we try to provide their needs. So of course, the subject comes up of how people perceive our kids. People in general are ignorant. For me it was ignorance and I have to say I didn't understand either. Wendy would say there was something different about our Ryan. And of course we all made excuses. I know now a motherl knows her child and for goodness sakes, people should listen. Even before Ryan, there was something going on with Billy Michael. But I digress. I want to address each child this month and introduce you to their world. This is about Awareness. After last week and then spending time with Wendy and talking with her this weekend I understand why awareness is so important.&lt;br /&gt;
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The fact is people are ignorant of the challenges that these children suffer. Not only the children, but every person in the family is affected. Even I do not know how to answer someone when they ask me "What is Autism?" I can list symptoms and tell them it is a neurological problem. Before, I would tell you..."Oh, have you ever seen Rain Man? Well that is Autism." Well that is not a lie, but it is so much more. While our favorite character "Rain Man" had Autism, he had so much more.&lt;br /&gt;
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My counselor gave me the first real clue about our boys. I was telling him about Noah and Ryan. I described their behavior and told him we just didn't know. He suggested that I read &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=the+out-of-sync+child&amp;amp;tag=googhydr-20&amp;amp;index=aps&amp;amp;hvadid=4341507599&amp;amp;ref=pd_sl_8wmcbopkhd_b"&gt;"The Out Of Sync Child"&lt;/a&gt; by &lt;span id="search"&gt;Carol Stock Kranowitz. &lt;/span&gt;It started to click. I read the book and there on the pages were Ryan and Noah. Even after I started learning about Autism and reading the symptoms searching for answers for our boys, everything was categorized and nothing seemed to fit exactly. &amp;nbsp; Even though the &lt;a href="http://www.comeunity.com/disability/sensory_integration/"&gt;"Sensory Integration" &lt;/a&gt;was definitely part of their DX, it wasn't everything. The Autism DX came and we still were clueless. Four Grandsons with Autism, and everyone of them are different. While some of the symptoms are mirrored, they all have their unique characteristics that make them who they are. I have now decided that each child is taken to the Autistic Warehouse and a list of symptoms are pulled off the shelf in no certain order. These make our children. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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Reasons why Awareness is so important. First of all the parents of these children need to know. Parents must be able to take their child to a doctor and say, "There is something different about my child that is just not right." And doctors should trust that a parent knows his or her child. Quicker intervention gives that child the&amp;nbsp; best chance they have at living the best life they can. While Autism cannot be cured, with early intervention, it can be the difference between having a child that can live in society with his family and peers and one that is at best non verbal and worst case, institutionalized.&lt;br /&gt;
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With 1 in 110 children, 1 in 70 boys suffering under the spectrum, more and more people are being affected. Many people only have to look into their extended family to find someone on the spectrum. And chances are if you know one person, they have a sibling or cousin also on the spectrum. It is more common to have more than one child in the immediate family with Autism. Something else we didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;
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Some of the facts that you may or may not know;&lt;br /&gt;
1. Although this is something a child is born with in most cases, it doesn't always manifest itself until the child is older. Sometimes children that seem to be developing perfectly normal with lose what they have learned. For instance. my Noah was starting to talk. We have him recorded laughing and talking. Saying words like Mamma and Daddy..6 months old and he started losing it. There is a man that I found on Twitter. Watch this&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=td1pxNXNjjU"&gt; "The United States Of Autism" Official Trailer&lt;/a&gt;.. My son has 5 children. The first 3 span the spectrum. He has 2 more, a boy and girl who seem very normal. But there is a fear that one day they will wake up in a world where they are lost. It happens. Many of our Children learn and become as close to normal as they can. But there is always a chance that one day they will wake up and lose everything they have gained. It is a scarey feeling.&lt;br /&gt;
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2. Melt Downs. They happen. A Lot. You may wake up one day when all is right with the world and everyone is getting breakfast and getting ready for school and because the sun is too bright, the toothbrush is the wrong color, there is a tag inside a new shirt, or for no reason at all, your child starts screaming at the top of their lungs. They fall down on the floor and begin to bang their head on the floor until it bleeds and stepping in only gets you a headbutt that knocks out your front tooth. So now everyone is late for school, or work. And the only thing you are happy about is that it happened in the privacy of your own home. Not in front of peers that believe if you were a better parent that it would never happen.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;Awareness!!!! Parents, I urge you to be diligent when you believe your child's behavior or development doesn't seem right. Talk to your doctor. If they won't listen, find someone who will. This is so important.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;There are more, but these are just a few of the things a parent of an  autistic child deals with everyday. Some of their fears and realities. I  am going to write more about these this month. I will give you some of the symptoms and the names of websites. Pass them on, share them with your friends. Talk about it. You will be surprised how many people are affected.&lt;br /&gt;
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Check out &lt;a href="http://www.autismspeaks.org/index.php"&gt;Autism Speaks&lt;/a&gt;. They are getting out the information for people. They are standing up for our kids and trying to get legislation passed and our Senators and Congressmen to be AWARE.&lt;br /&gt;
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Things to do before I die.&lt;br /&gt;
I want to fly. Preferably in a plane or better yet, a Hot Air Balloon.But sometimes I dream that I can fly without any assistance. Yes, I probably am crazy. You can ask my husband and kids to verify that. I have often thought of sky diving. I would have to have someone to push me out of the plane and I think it would hurt my feet and legs to land. I definitely want to fly. Maybe God will give me Angel Wings when I die.&lt;br /&gt;
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Walk...There are many places I would like to walk. The Red Carpet all glammed out. Smiling at the cameras,feeling good about myself.  Walking there might mean that I actually got to act in a movie, even if it was a little bitty part. Just so that I might have the opportunity to be involved in that kind of work. I know this doesn't make sense. Lately I have been wanting to see and watch and even have my hand in making a movie. I could just be that proverbial fly. Does that sound stupid?  I digress. I would love to walk along every coastline in the US...but why stop there..how about the world. Does your bucket list have to be reasonable, or can it be made up of dreams? Since it belongs to me, I figure I can make it anything &lt;br /&gt;
I want. &lt;br /&gt;
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Play...the piano. Not pound out notes that I can read, that taught myself. And everyone covering their ears yelling "Mom,STOP" or "Dear, plug the headphones in". My sweet husband gave the piano as a Christmas/Anniversary gift. This was several years ago. I have to say that this was my favorite gift ever. To sit down and create beautiful music.....wow. &lt;br /&gt;
Play....to learn to play and enjoy life without any guilt or fear. Sometimes we worry too much about what others think. When laughter and joy is what we need.&lt;br /&gt;
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Now here comes a biggie....Write....I touched on this before..I want to put words on paper that someone wants to read. They really don't have to pay me money, but of course that would be nice. When I was younger, I would say the words, "I want to be a writer" Somewhere alongside the way, I figured out that it was work. I also realized that I lacked the Education.  When I started working at the school, I began to believe it was possible. With this new thing called Blogs, I started writing about stuff that happened in my life and in life in general. I also applied for and got writing jobs. I met a very nice man from the UK. He helped me and critiqued my work. His constructive criticism encouraged me to keep trying. I tried not to negatively effect his company. I think more than anything, he gave me the confidence to keep trying. &lt;br /&gt;
Another person that has been a inspiration to me is Diane Chamberlain. She is an author with many books in print. Recently she has made the next step in technology and began to make her books electronic with EBooks. &lt;br /&gt;
Now that I have rambled forever, I should get back to the point. Okay, if you didn't get this before, I want to be a writer. &lt;br /&gt;
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You know that there is so much on my Bucket List, I could write all day and night and still think of more. How will I ever get it done in my lifetime? Even if I have 50 more years and everyone of those I was healthy, I don't know how I could finish. Of course that would mean not adding anymore to the list.&lt;br /&gt;
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I finished my Facebook comment by mentioning the Vampire Venom. If you ever follow me, you know that is my own personal joke. With my Twilight Saga obsession, I decided that a little venom could get rid of wrinkles, gray hair and arthritis. It is an interesting thought to live forever. I know that spiritually I will have everlasting life. So anything I infer about Vampires and Werewolves is strictly make-believe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I began 2011 with a resolution to NOT sabotage my life with Self Fulfilling Prophecies. I think if I believe I can and will do them...then of course it's possible. All I have to do is see myself doing them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-1930255858510878133?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZN1EbHSnPB0MiV4w5G_YxC5sw3Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZN1EbHSnPB0MiV4w5G_YxC5sw3Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/_KuZdLvw-d0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/1930255858510878133/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=1930255858510878133" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/1930255858510878133?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/1930255858510878133?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/_KuZdLvw-d0/things-to-do-before-i-am-18-or-before-i.html" title="Things To Do Before I am 18 or Before I Die" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/01/things-to-do-before-i-am-18-or-before-i.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMNQ38-cCp7ImA9Wx9QGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-1480066332343936764</id><published>2011-01-01T22:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T22:28:12.158-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-01T22:28:12.158-06:00</app:edited><title>2011</title><content type="html">I have always been saddend by the changing of the years. It has often triggered bouts of depression. This year I am trying to do the right things to make sure that doesn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A student where I work made a statement on Facebook. He said "2011 sucks already". You should know that he is very negative and finds pleasure in being negative and causing havoc everywhere he goes. Of course, these kids know I am going to give my opinion on there comments. If they don't want me to comment, then don't say stupid stuff, or don't ask me to be their friend. And yes, I had something to say.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Many times when I start writing, I realize and learn things about myself. Like I said, I am trying to Not fall into the Depression Pit this year.  I remember learning about Self Fulfilling Prophecy. Everyone doesn't believe and appreciate this as being a true phenomenon. I do however believe it's true. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I was telling him how that kind of thinking would insure that his 2011 would suck it occurred to me that I was guilty of the same. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just because it has always made me sad, doesn't mean this year is the same. I know there are things I do not have control over. I do have control over how I think. I can decide to think positive and not sabotage my own destiny with negativity.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So for today, 1-1-11, I am going to say "Believing that a new year has to be sad is not an option. Believing that I am going to have an awesome year, is the only option I am giving myself." &lt;br /&gt;
Life With Cindy in 2011 will be exciting and full of "I cans".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-1480066332343936764?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FDfHZrCz9vqqcycdTts3boKjLs0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FDfHZrCz9vqqcycdTts3boKjLs0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/6OM36FGUj8U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/1480066332343936764/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=1480066332343936764" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/1480066332343936764?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/1480066332343936764?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/6OM36FGUj8U/2011_01.html" title="2011" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2011/01/2011_01.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IMQ389eCp7ImA9Wx5UFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-1806263523767484569</id><published>2010-10-18T18:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T18:46:22.160-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-18T18:46:22.160-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Paras" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="grand kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Teachers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children" /><title>Being A Teacher</title><content type="html">You know that this makes the 3rd year that I have been substituting at my old Junior High. I never knew how much I would love this kind of work. It just suits me. I think that sometimes the different seasons of your life dictate of where you should be. The problem with that is I never prepared to be a teacher. For that reason, I take the lower pay and only do this part time. Most of the students love me and that is important. What I cannot get over is how the faculty and administrators treat me. I feel Golden and that doesn't mean in years. I am treated with so much respect and appreciation. They do not understand that I feel privileged to stand in for those that give so much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I blame my danged old condition preventing me from continuing my education so that I can stand amongst the heroes that are called "Teachers". I know that I am not stupid, and eventually I might make it through. But now that I am 53, by the time I would graduate, if I could find a job, I would not be able to enjoy the kids but for a few years. You don't understand, I would have to go to remedial college before I could start real classes. So I get the best next thing. I get to share. Share the fun of being in these kids lives, possibly making a difference without all the baggage. I get to have the fun without the junk. I get to leave the paper work and administrative duties to the teachers. I don't have to deal with the parents and administrators.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope to make a difference and shine a light into that student that might be struggling. Nothing makes me happier than seeing a child believe that I believe in him or her. You can just tell sometimes when you make a connection. You know that teachers need more money. But now I understand why they are still working without that raise. It comes from the heart.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also get the opportunity to work side by side with the teachers. When I am working for a Para, that means I am in class with the real Teacher. I try to take away something from each opportunity I get. Thank you for giving me so much as you do your job.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few more weeks of working in the severely handicapped class, and then I am back out in the general population. I love all sides of this job. So it doesn't matter which class I work in. But I do like to mix it up. To see the kids in different dynamics. Most of the teachers only see them in one situation. How they behave in their classes could be different depending on the mix of children in that hour. Is it before or after lunch? Do they love math, or is it their Achilles Heel? Maybe reading is where they shine. For me I see them differently on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I will continue, for as long as they let me, to come in and enjoy these wonderful kids. Hopefully they won't realize I am not "Golden" for as long as I want to be there.&amp;nbsp;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B000QQKW1U&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B00003L9C1&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B0032FO58I&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-1806263523767484569?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-sWmDmqOIStqMu4MYrIIqHyFn64/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-sWmDmqOIStqMu4MYrIIqHyFn64/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/0svFz2dFRDI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/1806263523767484569/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=1806263523767484569" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/1806263523767484569?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/1806263523767484569?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/0svFz2dFRDI/being-teacher.html" title="Being A Teacher" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2010/10/being-teacher.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cEQXc5eCp7ImA9Wx5UE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-3635514716735702246</id><published>2010-10-17T23:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T23:10:00.920-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-17T23:10:00.920-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friendship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="BFF" /><title>Friends and Responsibilities</title><content type="html">Today on FaceBook, I could tell that my Granddaughter and her friends were struggling with being Friends, and what that means. And after I read what I had written, I thought, you know..there are lessons for us grownups as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They are learning how hard it is to be a friend. And how friendship means being committed. How life gets in the way sometimes of good intentions and How easily it is to lose a friend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here is what I wrote in bold Italics. My granddaughter sometimes makes remarks when I make a comment. This time, she told me it was amazing. Did I tell you how great she is...and at 14...What a wonderful gift she is. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;I  am sorry cause you know I am going to say something...sorry..I can't  help it. There is a reason that people that are older are called Wise.  There is a reason you think your parents don't understand. It isn't  because we have never lived th&lt;span class="text_exposed_hide"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;rough  it. It is because we have lived through it. We have already made the  mistakes and we have already learned some versions of the answers. And  we tend to dismiss your feelings and expect you to understand because  "We said so". It isn't right, it just is. You guys have to make your own  mistakes and learn your own lessons. However, if you stop and take in  just a little bit of what your parents say, You will find the lessons a  little less hard sometimes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now this first part, I thought they should know why we know what we know. I said that we have lived it, and now we have some version of the answers. I wanted to elaborate here. Tell them that no we don't have all the answers and the answers we do have are not necessarily Right...they are just how we perceived them and what we took away. For us to imply that they will not find anything different is to say that we know it all. Of course we don't. We just know how it was for us and the lessons we learned and what we did with those lessons. Our goal is to make sure that those life lessons do not derail them. We try and protect them from having to learn those lessons as we cannot be sure how hard they will be. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4cbb89461b80a6a91202205"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now it seems to me that you guys are talking about friendships and how they seem to fade away. And how  you push them away.&lt;br /&gt;
I don't know any details, but I will talk in generals. S&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;ome times friendships and relationships cost more than we can give. &lt;br /&gt;
We  tend to get selfish with our friends. We don't want to share them. We  don't want anyone else to have that BFF feeling with "Our BFF" That is  too much pressure to put on anyone. No one can fill all our needs. And  when we look to our "Friend" to do that, we are being selfish&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4cbb89461b80a6a91202205"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4cbb89461b80a6a91202205"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Surely age has not changed us that much and&amp;nbsp; we are guilty of the same. We want our friends to stay close by. We cannot imagine that their lives could be important anywhere else. This is especially so with our spouses and our adult children. We want our children to be independent, but we get really clingy when we find they would rather spend time with their "Best" Friend and that is just not us. Of course this is how it should be, but that hurts our hearts. And we become selfish. And how we handle that tells a great deal about who we are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4cbb89461b80a6a91202205"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4cbb89461b80a6a91202205"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now  a true friend will be there for us. They will drop just about anything  to help us. But if we are a true friend, we should respect that  sometimes that just can't happen. That life gets in the way.&lt;br /&gt;
And sometimes, it is the thought that counts&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;You know exactly how much you can sacrifice for a friend. You think you do. Sometimes they ask so much from us, we think we can not give anything else. Or else we feel like we cannot give enough. And sometimes we have nothing to give at all. We want to make everything good for them, but there is nothing there.We feel guilty for not being able to give back what has been given. That is when the thought counts. Maybe it is just a phone call, or a note. Maybe a card in the mail. You can not judge tit for tat. I think that is what I am trying to say. There are friends that can pull out the check book. There are friends that have more time. But really, it isn't about what can you do for me now. Love is not measured about how much money or time you have. I know that I have friends that are constantly giving me gifts. I cannot do that as I don't have the money.&amp;nbsp; It is about the thought. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4cbb89461b80a6a91202205"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4cbb89461b80a6a91202205"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;As  we grow up, our world gets bigger and bigger. And friends will come and  they will move on. This is where it gets tricky. We grow and since we  are individuals, our directions may not be parallel. We can't expect our  friends to love everything we do. We will meet people that our friends  are not going to like. Your friend may not understand how you can be in  the same room with that person.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;There is&amp;nbsp; a written verse about your friends or Sisters that come into your life. How you need them all. Some stay until you die, some are only here for a brief time. They are all important. Our world gets so big and then people pass through. We will have new friends, old friends, friends of friends. We will share hugs, prayers, laughter, prayers, tears, good and bad. We will lose friends through our own selfishness and stupidity. We will find out that everyone who claims to be our friend is not. We learn that we don't have to be friends with everyone we know. We will find that we have respect for some people we really don't like at all. And all of this will not come without a price. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
OH now...We have the whole  Boyfriend Girlfriend thing. This is where it gets really sticky. As we  start dating, our friends start to feel a little excluded. And when they  don't have a significant other at the same time, your friends start to  get real jealous. And it isn't that they are mean. It is just normal  stuff. It is how you handle the jealousy and your feelings and your  friends feelings that makes you the person you are.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Now here is definitely where things begin to change. Girlfriends and Boyfriends become Wives and Husbands. You find the person you want to share your life with. All of a sudden, you have a new best friend.&amp;nbsp; And as much as your BFF's have seen you through everything, this new love is different than anything else on earth. In it's infancy, you have trouble seeing anything else but that person. Of course that is the way it is suppose to be. And with that new person, comes another family. More brothers, and sisters, and parents. You have so many people in your life now. This time in your life is when you notice that you are not staying in touch with your friends as much. There never seems to be enough time. Of course their is nothing wrong with any of this, Life happens. Now you start having your own family. I am not saying you will lose your friend. Your friend just has another role in your life. They use to be the most important person. Now they are just as important, but they share it with others.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;If you have a long life with the same spouse and your children grow up healthy and happy, you will still need your friends. Because life is not perfect and there are going to be days when friends are what will keep you sane. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;You guys  will figure it out.  Try to give each other the space you need. Try and  learn that being friends doesn't mean that you have to be tied to each  other 24/7. Learn that sometimes being right doesn't mean the other  person is wrong. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;And there was a saying that was made popular back in the 70's...&lt;br /&gt;
"Love  means never having to say your Sorry" Well that is bull....even when  you love someone with all your heart, If you feel you need to say " I am  sorry" Then yes...the other person needs to hear it. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;One more  thing... Careful what you say in anger, Because that thing about sticks  and stones is also not real true... Words between friends and loved ones  will make scars that do not easily heal. A broken heart will take much  longer to heal than a broken leg. In fact, sometimes those scars never  heal.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br style="font-weight: normal;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; All of these things I believe are true.&amp;nbsp; Saying your sorry is important. Never be afraid to make amends. You will not always see eye to eye, but never forget to treat each other with respect. This does sound like a lot of work. Well you know the good things in life usually do take work.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes it is a great deal of responsibility to take care of a friendship. When life gets busy, it is easier to let your friends go. Not returning calls, missing lunch dates, not remembering birthday cards...This is when your true friend doesn't worry about it. They might call and ask, "Is something wrong? What can I do to help?"&amp;nbsp; And you know that when the day is over, they will be waiting on the other end of the phone when you do have tim&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=159543836X&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B0006D3HCE&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lifwitcin-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B0012IWIN6&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;e to make that call.&amp;nbsp; Friends are like that you know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2177899495511132816-3635514716735702246?l=lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CYVDvHfu4xQhYtXOdclm5VMpOPQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CYVDvHfu4xQhYtXOdclm5VMpOPQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~4/IMSS1YnLBsk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/feeds/3635514716735702246/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2177899495511132816&amp;postID=3635514716735702246" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/3635514716735702246?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2177899495511132816/posts/default/3635514716735702246?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeWithCindy/~3/IMSS1YnLBsk/friends-and-responsibilities.html" title="Friends and Responsibilities" /><author><name>Cindy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09758491036244149546</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dm7PoQjoz0E/TfV60BM5C2I/AAAAAAAAByg/eSFv5mpv2K0/s220/piano.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://lifewithfibromyalgiaandme.blogspot.com/2010/10/friends-and-responsibilities.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IER385eyp7ImA9Wx5WGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177899495511132816.post-3592571830783302291</id><published>2010-10-01T20:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T21:11:46.123-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-01T21:11:46.123-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Central Jr. High" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Teachers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="substitue" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Moore High School" /><title>I Love My School KIds</title><content type="html">It seems that I have lots to say about lots of stuff. I know this is not very good grammer, engilsh, or composition, it is what it is. . I feel I like I am getting ready to RAMBLE...Fair Waring here..OK here goes...&lt;br /&gt;
If you know me, or if you don't know ME, but have read my blog...And I am sure not many people have, but if are know anything, you know that I have only worked in the school since the fall of 2008. I began substituting in October of that year.&amp;nbsp; At first I was a little scared, and I was only doing it because you know, I needed a little extra money. But then I settled down at one school&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A school I attended the first time as a Freshman in 1969. Wow that was a long time ago. And I made this school my home. My grand daughter was in the 7th grade there when I started. She was loved by friends, acquaintances and teachers. And as I started becoming a regular in school and the children knew me and liked me, it became more than a job. I absolutely love it. I came home this week everyday, dead dog tired, and I walked in to the house today after work...I said..Mike I love love love my job. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't think I've ever regretted not going to college to get a degree until now. I know it is never too late, but to go back to school, I would waste years that I could be enjoying doing what I am doing right now. I think I grew up too late. Of course when my kids were young, and living at home, it was all about making a living and trying to get them through school. I didn't do a very good job at either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today was the Moore High School Homecoming Parade. And as we stood outside at the street and watched the students coming, I was trying to see the students that had touched my life and then moved on to high school. The pride in my chest was so big as I saw them and they waved. And my heart grew ? how many sizes today. And I just want them to succeed and be the best that they can be. I want them to enjoy being kids and I want them to reach the stars. I want the hard lessons to touch them in only positive ways.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know I have grown since my children were this age. And the advice I gave them, probably wasn't the best. I know just by the way they have grown up, I got some of the important things right. They are kind and compassionate humans that care for other people. They love each other and their families. They respect Mike and I.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I feel guilty that I wasn't always the person they needed me to be. I have to say I am not as open minded as I should be, but I am getting better. I do believe there is such a thing as being too open minded, but enough said about that. As far as my kids, I could write for days on how badly I messed up as a parent. I hope they know I love them, and when I was psycho mom, it was more about me than it was about them. And it is a price children pay when you have them too young literally and emotionally. Of course all parents make mistakes...you just love your children and do the best you can. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Back to my school kids. I have this thing called "can't keep my mouth shut when I have an opinion". Well not exactly my mouth, but more my fingers. So over the past 2 years, most of my kids want to be my friend on Facebook. Of course I will be your friend. But when you post something on line, you risk me telling you how I feel about it. And if I think there might be a lesson to learn, or if I can think of some thing that I think would be good advice, I am going to tell you. If you are being a diva, I might tell you. I am going to tell you how beautiful you are whether you want to hear it or not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now all of this being said, I just have to say I love all my students. And unlike the teachers.. I see these kids in may different scenarios. It is hard to be a brand new teenager. All those hormones...mixing you up. All the peer pressure to fit in. The social stuff at school is so important. But we still have to fit school in there somewhere. At the age when we have decided that our parents and teachers are just plain stupid. And we feel that nothing we do is good enough. And the pull between doing what is right and what we really want to try. And why are the consequences so hard....And then zits and braces and hair that won't look like every one else.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So here I am on Facebook and these kids respect me enough to want to be my friend. I am sure parents are saying who is this crazy lady. But even though I don't like being this old woman, these kids act like they have a respect for me...."ME???" Goodness Gracious...why??? But they do. And when I see that they are having a hard time, I can't keep my mouth shut. I do try to come across to them that their Parents, Teachers, and Clergy Person are the most important and what they say is the rule. I think sometimes they need to hear from someone who is not a parent, or relative that they are special and beautiful. You know..it is like, your parents have to love us, but Mrs. Mathes said that about me.???Maybe it's true. I had a teacher like that. I observed the way that she made the kids that maybe didn't fit in anywhere feel special. Those kids that had to have a little more pushing to get their work in...maybe a trouble maker in another class. She made them feel good about themselves. I hope I can do this for my kids. They are so worth it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope that they can see I really, really mean it.&amp;nbsp; I also try to make them understand that the teacher that pushes them, really loves them.. Mrs. Yaffe is a great woman who has been teaching a very long time. She pushes them because she knows that if she doesn't...they will have a very difficult time in school and life. I hope I can make them see to grasp all that these special teachers can and will give them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I warned you this was going to be long. All this to say...I love love love my job...love the kids, wish I had been a teacher when I grew up, hope the kids respect me and learn how very special and important they are.&lt;br /&gt;
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