<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?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" gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAMQnYzcSp7ImA9WhRUE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954</id><updated>2012-01-23T11:46:23.889-06:00</updated><title>A Rainey Kind of Day</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>64</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/RaineyKindofDay" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="raineykindofday" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQCSHcyfip7ImA9WhRUEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-1140036539763130328</id><published>2012-01-22T12:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T12:36:09.996-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-22T12:36:09.996-06:00</app:edited><title>72!</title><content type="html">So, I said I would write about marriage, Rainey style. We've been married for over 23 years now, and it definitely has not been easy. In fact, at times I wasn't sure we would make it. And, at the same time, it's been THE BEST relationship I've ever had with another human being and I wouldn't trade it for the world! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When Rick and I met, I was a very different person then. My family can attest to this. It was 1984, my sophomore year of college at UT in Austin. I was not as shy as I was my freshman year but I was still very timid about life and my part in it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rick was handsome, funny, charming, did I mention handsome and funny? Yes, I laughed a little too hard at his humor, but sometimes it was because I didn't even understand the reference or joke. I wasn't dumb, just quite sheltered. We'd only been in the US for 2 years, and before that my hometown of Parry Sound, Canada was 5,000 population, we had 3 channels with an antenna/rotar, and our movie theatre played 1 movie for 2 weeks, before the next one came. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rick introduced me to all kinds of music, like Chicago, U2, etc, more than just the stuff on MTV, back when MTV played music! I saw movies like Clockwork Orange (um, quite shocking for me), Alfred Hitchcock films, the Maltese Falcon, Blade Runner and more. Of course I loved music and movies but my repertoire was more of a pop culture thing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I learned to better understand and like baseball, have watched every Jim Carrey movie out there (multiple times {SIGH}) and love to eat at James Coney Island and Chik-fil-la all because of this "boy"! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think the biggest thing Rick did for me was give me confidence. Confidence that I was worth loving, that I had good thoughts, that I was someone worth knowing and listening to. I was severely lacking in these areas and Rick gave me a great gift. In fact he may have created a monster!! I actually still struggle with confidence, but many of you wouldn't know it. Right? Go ahead, it's okay to agree. I know!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think, in a way, we've switched places. He was the outgoing, funny, social one and I was more reserved, afraid to let people know who I was, very concerned about what people thought of me. Now, I don't mean we've done a complete reversal. I just happen to be the more outgoing, positive, outspoken one and Rick is more reserved. He's not quite sure how i manage to stike up a conversation with people in public and come away knowing that the lady in line at the grocery store has a child with Asperger's, the salesperson at Macy's has a friend whose daughter went to school with Josh or that the pest control guy used to live in the neighborhood of the school I taught in and his neighbor's kid was in my class and is now in college! I know. I'm weird. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Somehow, throughout all of our trials, tribulations, crises, ups and downs, we've managed to stay together. The odds aren't in our favor. Did you know that approx. 80% of marriages fail if just one of the children has a serious mental illness? After all we've gone through, I think it's a miracle were still together. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank God for Carol &amp; Steve LaBonte, Dr. Roche and Dr. Tarnow. Because of these fine professionals we've learned to communicate, understand each other and deal better with each others' weaknesses. We've taught each other a lot! I think Rick may have learned more than he ever wanted to know! There's this look that comes over his face, where his eyes glaze over, mouth has this funny tilt to it and I realize that if I don't stop and explain, or just plain stop, he may start to drool.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or, there are the times when I'm frustrated and have learned, most of the time, to not bite Rick's head off. Like when he can't find something in the pantry. I say "It's on the 3rd shelf from the bottom, on the left side, between the rice and the Mac n' Cheese," and he still can't find it. I walk over, point to it and he swears he looked there. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think the most important thing about staying married is that you BOTH want the marriage to work more than you want to be right. When we argue and I know I'm wrong I want to apologize, well, most of the time, because I would rather be on the same page with Rick than stand my ground. Not easy, just simple. Put WE ahead of ME. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
72. Never had the number 72 tell more about people than during the past few months. Rick and I no longer have to share our anniversary with Kim Kardashian and her newest ex. The number 72, in relation to the number of DAYS they were married, tells us a lot about their character, doesn't it? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How about 72 years! That's almost how long Rick's grandparents, Mema and Papa, have been married. We heard an interesting story about what went on with them on Christmas Day. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, Papa makes these awesome sweet, hot pickles. He makes them, Mema puts them in jars and they were giving them to some people for presents. Apparently, a few days before Christmas, Papa dropped a jar of pickles, cleaned it up the best he could, being 94 yrs old AND being a man. A day or two later, Mema, who's 90, steps on something sticky, aaaaaand, she's off..... &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She's mad that Papa didn't clean it up to her satisfaction, that a jar broke in the first place and that now she's convinced that when Papa broke the other jar, glass shards flew all over and that now there's glass in the sealed pickles jars, on a shelf 5 feet off the ground. Ah, yep! Don't ask! Just trust me that she really believed there was glass in the other unopened pickle jars. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Apparently, this arguement occurs at home, then continues during Christmas dinner and picks up where they left off back at their home later that evening. Rick's uncle gets a frantic phone call from Mema, saying she's locked herself in the bathroom because Papa has gone crazy. Randy heads over and is greeted at the door by Papa, in his jammies, having no clue what's going on. Randy got Mema out of the bathroom, she said they were arguing about the pickles and that Papa couldn't take Mema's nagging any more and he wanted a divorce. Going on 72 years of marriage and he wanted a divorce! Randy worked his magic, as he always does, Papa agreed to calm down and stop scaring Mema, so she wouldn't have to hide in the bathroom, and Mema agreed to not nag Papa so much. They kissed and all was well! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
72. It can tell you a lot. I hope we make it to 72. We just might! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love you, Ricky. You stud-muffin, you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-1140036539763130328?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/1140036539763130328/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=1140036539763130328" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/1140036539763130328?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/1140036539763130328?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2012/01/72.html" title="72!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cAR3YzfSp7ImA9WhRVEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-8646506813031924498</id><published>2012-01-09T00:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T00:04:06.885-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T00:04:06.885-06:00</app:edited><title>Stand By - There's More to Come</title><content type="html">Some posts that will make their blog debut in the near feature:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* some winter/snow awesome memories&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* marriage, Rainey style&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* update on our kids&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* whatever else creeps into this wild brain of mine! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ta Ta for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-8646506813031924498?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/8646506813031924498/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=8646506813031924498" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/8646506813031924498?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/8646506813031924498?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2012/01/stand-by-theres-more-to-come.html" title="Stand By - There's More to Come" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEAQHk8cSp7ImA9WhRVEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-344430285679174356</id><published>2012-01-08T23:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T23:57:21.779-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T23:57:21.779-06:00</app:edited><title>Like Unzipped Pair of Jeans! Aahhhhhh!</title><content type="html">Did you know we're moving? Yes, tis true! To a colony. Check it out...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
http://m.youtube.com/index?desktop_uri=%2F&amp;gl=US#/watch?v=thp4KhiXe0s"&lt;br /&gt;
YouTube &gt; Colony-of-Losers.com presents "Come out, Come Out Wherever You Are"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks to my cousin, Neil, for sharing with me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's been weird since Josh went to Utah. We went from many people having no idea the extent of Josh's mental illness, bipolar disorder, to being completely open about his and Lauren's struggles. We just talk about it as if it's a common place thing. And, actually, it is! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*"Approximately 57.7 million Americans experience a mental health disorder in a given year. One in 17 lives with a serious mental illness such as schizophrenia, major depression or bipolar disorder and about one in 10 children live with a serious mental or emotional disorder" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) www.nami.org&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is a freedom that's come from sharing with others about our life. I don't feel the stigma of mental illness on our family. I feel unburdened. Unashamed. Understood better. Don't get me wrong. I'm not, nor have ever been, ashamed of my children. I love them to pieces. I know you know that. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess it's like wearing a tight article of clothing. You feel okay wearing it, but when you unzip or take it off, you realize how constricted you were. I feel like a stomach "coming out" of an unzippered pair of jeans. Free!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Free to be just who and what we are, as a family, as parents, as human beings. Not holed up in our house afraid to talk about our issues, afraid that we'd be a total drag to our friends because we have nothing but our screwed up lives to share (Come on, you know it's true. You ARE afraid to ask 'How's it going?') hehehe!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, I haven't been totally honest. I know you LOVE IT when I'm totally honest, right!!! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's not just my kids that are moving to the colony. It's me too. Ive suffered with major depression for a few years now. At first, we (me, Rick, Dr. Roche, Dr. Tarnow) thought it was situational. I mean who wouldn't be out of their mind living our life! It's been a battle since 1995, getting worse in 2003, and really been a "neverending pit of crap" since 2007! 'Tis true, I'm afraid to say. So true.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Who knows! Maybe one day I won't feel depressed. Not holding my breath here. In this case, the apple didn't fall far from the tree with my parents, to me and to the kids. Um, to Rick's family... you're DNA is not off the hook either! :) Regardless of where "It" came from, we've just gotta deal. Like I've said before, MENTAL ILLNESS SUCKS! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, I know my kids and I are not the only ones. There are a lot of people out there going thru some of,or worse than, our struggles. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So... like Michael Kimber says 'COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE'! The colony is certainly not always the best or easiest community to live in, but you won't be alone, you've got some pretty awesome neighbors and you might just be inspired! AND, no tight jeans are allowed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-344430285679174356?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/344430285679174356/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=344430285679174356" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/344430285679174356?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/344430285679174356?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2012/01/like-unzipped-pair-of-jeans-aahhhhhh.html" title="Like Unzipped Pair of Jeans! Aahhhhhh!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UNRH08fyp7ImA9WhRQFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-6304968914206476386</id><published>2011-12-11T22:31:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T22:48:15.377-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-11T22:48:15.377-06:00</app:edited><title>All For Her</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WP6IZA4Yjz4/TuV_r1mJUGI/AAAAAAAAAQo/qWz_PZBPKds/s1600/Beth+grouch+hat.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" mda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WP6IZA4Yjz4/TuV_r1mJUGI/AAAAAAAAAQo/qWz_PZBPKds/s200/Beth+grouch+hat.JPG" width="149" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Like the hat? I love it! Why, because it belonged to Hilary. It's hers, but I've been wearing it lately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;You see, for the last few months, since August, I've been busy. Not just with regular stuff, or regular Rainey stuff, but with helping my friend as she died. What a horrible and holy labor of love!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I'm sure you can guess why it was horrible. I hate cancer! It took my lively, bubbly, determined, beautiful friend and filled her every moment with fear, pain, and agony. I watched as she took chemo and radiation, vomited and had exhaustion, endured pulmonary embolisms (which we realized began in my car but we figured she was dizzy and out of breath because she had been in her hospital bed too long), and have pain so bad that OxyContin and oxycodone together couldn't touch it. She was such a fighter. She called that part of herself "Heidi". You did NOT want to mess with Heidi! Hilary/Heidi fought so hard against the illness, for herself, for Wayne, Zach and Zoe. She was so determined to not leave her family behind. At the end she fought with every breath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So, what's holy about all of this? Watching Hilary say "I love you too!" to her kids right up to the last day, even though she had been almost non-responsive since Monday. Watching Wayne hold her hand and gaze at her, with tears in his eyes. When he had to give her pain meds and needed her to wake up a bit, he'd call her name, she would stir almost immediately, in some fashion, her eyelids would flutter and Wayne would say, with a big smile on his face "There's my girl!". He hardly left her side during the last few weeks. I watched their cats hover around her hospital bed, especially on the last day. We had to keep moving them off of her legs. Animals are a lot smarter than we give them credit for. What holy moments I saw!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Had a few myself, while holding her hand, rubbing lotion on her bald head to get rid of the itchies, trimming and filing her nails because she didn't like her nails long, and because she knew how fastidious I am about fingernails. :) I talked, hoping she could hear me (pretty sure she did), about the day, how Zoe's cheer practice went, anything I wanted to say to her. Listened to music Wayne had set up on her laptop for her to hear. Switched the Pandora channel from worship music to Journey a few times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The last thing Hilary, Wayne and the kids needed was me bawling my eyes out. Hilary didn't like crying, or the sad puppy-dog eyes she would get as a cancer patient while out in public. She was fighting it and she wanted no pity! So, i sucked it up and was my friend's friend. I felt very blessed to be let in, to help. The family did me such a great honor by allowing me to help them, be there, do chores, drive places and be Hilary's friend up until the end. I saw my main role as Hilary's comedian. She and I laughed and reminisced about children's choir, UM ARMY, youth choir trips, our children, you name it! We sang a few children's choir songs, talked about the Journey/REO Speedwagon concert Amy, Hilary and I went to, and scavenger hunts with youth! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;And then there was the hat. We both loved Sesame Street and The Muppets from our childhood and could, at any moment break into this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N_tupPBtWQ"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N_tupPBtWQ&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Hilary had lots of hats and scarves to keep her head warm and covered. They were in a&amp;nbsp;basket attached to her bed and were useful props for our laughing sessions. Last Monday night, I was wearing the Oscar the Grouch hat. Hilary opened her eyes, looked at me and said sarcastically "You look beautiful, Beth!". That was the last time she talked to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;The service today was so beautiful. Kathy's beautiful words, Amy's solo, the beautiful music sung by a loving choir family, the pink roses, Wayne wrapping his strong arms around his children, Zoe's poem, Zach singing/playing 'The Rainbow Connection' (the Steinerts and Tim, Hilary's brother, went to see the new Muppets movie recently. Hilary sweetly cried during this song). She didn't cry today. She was the proudest mom in Heaven, watching her children's loving tributes to her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;At the reception, the Oscar the Grouch hat and her Cheshire Cat hat were on a table of pictures and other mementos. I put on one and Amy wore the other. I must have been a sight! I had cried off all my makeup, looked exhausted and wore this crazy hat on my head. Doesn't matter to me. We did it for Hilary, to laugh with our friend, all the way to the end of her journey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Thank you, Wayne, Zoe and Zach. Thanks, Hilary. I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-6304968914206476386?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/6304968914206476386/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=6304968914206476386" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/6304968914206476386?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/6304968914206476386?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2011/12/all-for-her.html" title="All For Her" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WP6IZA4Yjz4/TuV_r1mJUGI/AAAAAAAAAQo/qWz_PZBPKds/s72-c/Beth+grouch+hat.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IEQH8-eSp7ImA9WhRRF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-3095354657116113259</id><published>2011-12-01T02:06:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T08:25:01.151-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-01T08:25:01.151-06:00</app:edited><title>Polar Opposites? Maybe not!</title><content type="html">There's a lot on my mind tonight. Feeling kind of numb. What I AM aware of is that there is something to be learned in everything and there's beauty and love in every crisis. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today I witnessed absolute love and devotion in the midst of a life in the process of passing on. There was such beauty in every touch, word spoken, hand held, glance met. I've never experienced things like this before. Truthfully, I'm stunned and kind of having an out-of-body moment. How can there possibly be something magnificent in the middle of death? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A lot of people have there own opinions and answers. Mine is a 3-letter word. GOD! Who else could give me such a sense of wonder? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I drove home tonight I noticed how black the sky is, and how bright and beautiful the moon and stars are. If I hadn't been overwhelmed and not needed any extra stimuli, I probably would have had the radio or iPod playing, rushing to get home. Instead I was silent (ya, I know. Hard to believe!!) and driving slowly (hush now!). Only in that space could I see the sky and the Heavens, the silhouette of huge oak trees and... a falling star. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank you, God, for this night, for what I witnessed, the precious moments with someone very near and dear to my heart and soul and the special bond we have that goes beyond words and, if I'm lucky, beyond this earthly realm. I will treasure this always!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-3095354657116113259?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/3095354657116113259/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=3095354657116113259" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/3095354657116113259?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/3095354657116113259?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2011/12/polar-opposites-maybe-not.html" title="Polar Opposites? Maybe not!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MBQ3g4eCp7ImA9WhRRE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-6661429073623554014</id><published>2011-11-26T20:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-26T20:04:12.630-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-26T20:04:12.630-06:00</app:edited><title>To Quote Sponge Bob...</title><content type="html">DBT. Dialectical behavioral therapy. This is a specific type of therapy helpful with Josh and Lauren's diagnoses, it's what they do at Youth Care in Utah and what Lauren and I are studying at The Tarnow Center. We then teach it to Rick so we all know the info.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Radical Acceptance. Accepting that at this specific time and place, this is where I am and how things are. Sounds easy. Not really.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have a lot of things I need to accept. You'd think I'd have already done that by now, but that's not totally true. I have come to realize, and be ok with, many situations but I have a long way to go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One of the things I've accepted is the situation in which I grew up in and know, REALLY know my parents loved me and did the best they could. I am at peace with all of that. Because of my radical acceptance of this situation, I could give my mom the love, care and understanding she needed her last few years and why I can be there for Dad now. I'm very grateful for it, as I know with my mom, and will know with my dad when he's gone, that I did all I could for them, with no regrets.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I thought I had accepted my kids' diagnoses. However, recently I came to the realization that I was under the impression that if I worked my tail off giving them all possible opportunities to learn healthy life tips and coping strategies while young, they would have SOME difficulties but be much less affected.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was wrong!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They still are in anguish, with more serious life situations, and I'm having trouble accepting this fact. I really don't WANT to accept it, tbh. Hehehe. Like that? See i'm still hip. I know what tbh is! Except I think that saying 'I'm hip' negates it all. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ok. What was I saying? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is a new level of grief, I think. Somehow my mind messed with me, or maybe it was my heart, that said if I did everything possible for Lauren and Josh they would be just like everyone else's teenagers. I know, I know!!! But typical sounds wonderful to me! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is an example of not having radical acceptance! Now, life as it is, with both kids struggling, is the truth staring me down. I don't like it at all. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We got thru Thanksgiving without Josh. I only had 1 small tearful moment, but then it was time to go volunteer at George R Brown, and then pick up Dad. Glad Dr. Roche suggested volunteering. Really took me out of my thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But now, I don't want to decorate for Christmas. Josh isn't here and he should be! How can I decorate, how can we do the tree without all 4 of us here, drinking egg nog, listening to Johnny Mathis's Christmas album? It seems like I shouldn't do it because he won't be here to enjoy it. I'm being mean by having Christmas without him here. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
THIS is radical acceptance! Josh is NOT here. Rick, Lauren and I are. I can't sit and feel sorry for myself. I need to be here for my husband, daughter and dad. Christmas is coming whether I like it or not. We will see Josh in Utah for a few days but he won't be home. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Please don't tell me to be grateful for what I DO have. I'm not trying to be rude, just honest. I do know what I'm lucky to have. Mostly we're blessed that Josh is still alive and is in an excellent facility, helping him to recover. That's my present. Insurance is paying in full, for now. That's a huge blessing. Also, Lauren is willing to work on her "stuff" and hopefully a job will come through for her, to keep her on a regular schedule and give her a sense of accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Que sera sera. I always did think Doris Day was a little too perky.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have other issues to come to terms with that affect me hugely. Some family issues; NO, not the growing up ones, more recent ones! Keep up with me, okay??&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some family relationships are not as I'd wish. Yea, I know, you're saying "Get over it, Beth! What else is new!" Easier said than done, right? I need to let go, take things AS THEY ARE, and not have expectations. Damn that radical acceptance!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Are you thinking right about now that I'm addicted to exclamation marks? I'm realizing that, too!  Oops, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A giant struggle for me is accepting the diagnosis of cancer of one of my best friends. I can't wrap my brain and heart around the fact that she's 3 months younger than me. She's in pain and no one can fix that, no matter how hard her loving husband, kids, friends and doctors try. I am cherishing every moment(like putting on compression hose), smile, giggle, phone call and text we share. It's still not enough. It won't EVER be enough!!!!!!! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Radical Acceptance = Being ok with life not being fair&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also need to accept that people are going to hurt me. Not everyone will like me, in fact some people might just really dislike me. People pleasing is sooo hard to rid! (I really meant that exclamation mark)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our family is dealing with a crisis of faith. Not going to our church of 22 years anymore is a real loss. Huge! Needed to happen, been struggling with making that decision for a long time. I need to accept this, and realize that God is everywhere, even in a new church (kinda silly, huh?) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Im trying so hard to not be on a giant pity potty. Some times are better than others. Working on it. Geez, I hate working so hard! I know many feel as I do. I'm not alone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is where you all come in. I've really isolated myself from life the last year or so. Especially the last 8 months. Not good for the depression, ya know. Yes, I'm such a 'clevah' girl. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We had friends over for dinner last Sunday and after they left, Rick and I realized we haven't had anyone over to our home since Mom's funeral. Heather, Patti, Emily and Trey - you have no idea how special it was to have you over and what a great time we had!! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've been trying to put myself out there and get back into life, as of the last month. Seen many of you for the 1st time in a long while. I loved every minute and I miss you all. I know I need you. However, I have these thought that hold  me back. Who would want to be around such a miserable person? Not me? Who is brave enough to ask us "How are things going?" Hehehe, I wouldn't. So I hide in my room. A lot!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Radical acceptance- Quit being so miserable, Beth! I actually am working on that. Will take time to build up my confidence. But as Sponge Bob says, "I'm ready! I'm ready!" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks, you guys :) Thanks, God :) Thanks, Radical Acceptance. :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-6661429073623554014?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/6661429073623554014/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=6661429073623554014" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/6661429073623554014?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/6661429073623554014?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2011/11/to-quote-sponge-bob.html" title="To Quote Sponge Bob..." /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcDRno9eyp7ImA9WhRTF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-3003936667457426499</id><published>2011-11-07T16:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T16:47:57.463-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-07T16:47:57.463-06:00</app:edited><title>There's Humor in Everything!</title><content type="html">So, Rick said to me the other day he wants a tattoo that represents our life or our current state of mind. I jokingly asked of what. He wants a toilet, with a bat sitting on it. The bat will have this wild looking face.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ya, you guessed it!!! Bat Sh#t Crazy!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just nodded my head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.S. See, I told you I wouldn't be all whiney and mopey!! Just honest! :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-3003936667457426499?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/3003936667457426499/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=3003936667457426499" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/3003936667457426499?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/3003936667457426499?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2011/11/theres-humor-in-everything.html" title="There's Humor in Everything!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08NQHc4fCp7ImA9WhRTEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-6273847871042315699</id><published>2011-11-01T00:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T00:38:11.934-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-01T00:38:11.934-05:00</app:edited><title>Be Prepared for the Dumping Ground Ahead!</title><content type="html">So, I know I've been pretty quiet since we took Josh. It was an extremely hard day and I just couldn't. Well, couldn't do much of anything. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We took Josh for a 9:00 am check-in and were there about 2 1/2 hours. I thought I was going to have trouble leaving him with strangers, but these people are amazing. Right away I could see how professional and yet down-to-earth they were. We found out that the psychiatrist that will meet with Josh once a week, watch over him medically and manage of his meds knows Dr. Tarnow (his dr. here) and at some point in the past worked with him. That is so reassuring, especially as they will be in contact with each other.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After we turned in all of our paperwork (18 pages on-line and 46 pages to hand in), we got a tour. There are 4 houses on the property and Josh will be in his house, with his "new family" the whole time. The kids sleep, eat, have group and individual therapy, go to school, etc. all within the home. They have outdoor P.E. everyday, and what a place to be outdoors! Draper is a suburb south of Salt Lake City and sits in a valley between 2 mountain ranges. Josh will have the opportunity to ski, go snowboarding, hike and skate at the Olympic ice rink. Glad I talked him into a REAL winter coat, not a Houston winter coat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I held it together until the very end, but that goodbye was horrible. Josh did well with it. It was all me. He hardly slept the night before and mentioned several times that he was scared but once we'd been there a while he was ok staying. He was the one consoling me. I kept my hand over my mouth because I could feel that huge sobs were going to come out. Of course my eyes cried like a fountain that I couldn't stop. After several minutes Rick said we needed to go. I found myself frozen, unable to move. My feet could not move, even though I knew it was time to leave. Rick had to pull me to get me to move. We got out the front door, out of eyesight and ear shot of anyone and then I myself was a bit taken back on the sobs/screams coming out of my mouth. One of the hardest things I've ever done.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We went back to the hotel and just napped and looked at each other with glances of "How the hell did we get here". Rick was so good about taking care of me, so loving and nurturing! The only other time I lost it was the next day, as we were driving to the airport. But, we KNOW Josh is in the right place, being well taken care of. We can't talk to him until this coming Sunday, but we can get updates any time. He's adjusting fine and all seems to be going in the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I want to thank all of you for the many messages of support, the prayers and the love sent our way. It means so much! Mental illness is such a lonely path. If we talked about all of our problems, that have been high intensity for at least the past 4-5 years, we would be the dreariest people in Texas. So, Rick and I keep most of our problems to ourselves (except for close family and 1 or 2 friends) and have found ourselves very withdrawn lately. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Besides keeping you informed about our family's journey, I hope that each of you learns at least one thing about families living with mental illness! My son is as sick as someone with a life-threatening disease. In fact, his very life has been in danger and that's why we took him to the best place we could find. However, many people just don't think of it this way and don't want to talk about it. I am determined to be different.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am NOT ashamed of my kids' diagnoses. They are types of brain disorders, which are physical in nature. My kids are not behaving in this way because they want to. With brain chemicals all out of whack and having a brain that is not typical (better word than "normal") in its wiring imagine how you would feel. My kids suffer a lot and, in turn, act out, which makes mine and Rick's life unbelievably hard. My kids see their friends, what limited ones they have (takes an extraordinary young person to stand up for and be there for them), going off to college or being very successful in school, being invited to all kinds of things, watch them have cars, dates, and most importantly, pride in who they are and a bright outlook on their future. We want that for our kids, just like you, but so far that has not really happened. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Please don't think I'm incredibly bitter. At times I feel a little bitter, more like envious of our friends' and family's more typical family lives. I also know that many of you have had no picnic raising some of your kids. I try to stay positive but sometimes it's hard when the only good thing going for us is that a dr. is on our insurance or " at least he got one of the best doctors in the hospital." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Is it so wrong to want more? Is it bad to not want our kids to do therapy and follow ups for much of their adult lives? I don't think so. It's also ok if we would like to spend money on family fun things, instead of private school tuitions we've paid since 2005, therapy for our whole family several times a week, medication co-pays that are huge because they each have 3-4 meds, and so on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm so sorry to dump on you like this. This is just NOT the way I pictured my life. Watching my children hurt is every parents' nightmare and we've been doing it for over a decade. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I would like you to see the many blessings you have in front of you, that maybe you are or are not aware of. Be grateful for having to deal with your kid and his/her many after school activities. That means they fit in and have things to look forward to and be a part of. Be grateful for the busy times when your child needs to be at 3 birthday parties all in one weekend. That means they have many friends and are accepted socially. Be grateful for late curfews, car wrecks, progress reports and Homecoming/prom drama because that means you're dealing with typical teenage issues. I know I'm happy for you! I really mean that!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I promise I'll be more upbeat next posting. Pinky swear! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love you all and thanks for "listening to" my crap. I needed to get that out, I guess. Thanks for the support, messages, texts, etc. They've really helped Rick and me during the last several days. If you want, please try to comment here, rather than on Facebook. I'm trying to keep my FB postings drama-free and a bit more private. I really appreciate that. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Beth &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-6273847871042315699?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/6273847871042315699/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=6273847871042315699" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/6273847871042315699?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/6273847871042315699?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2011/11/be-prepared-for-dumping-ground-ahead.html" title="Be Prepared for the Dumping Ground Ahead!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcMSXk9eip7ImA9WhRTEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-2514608100880183580</id><published>2011-10-25T23:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T00:58:08.762-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-01T00:58:08.762-05:00</app:edited><title>Talk to My Heart!!</title><content type="html">So, our family could use some extra prayers right about now. Tomorrow, Rick and I will face a very difficult situation; leaving Josh at a residential mental health facility in Utah. My poor sweet boy has gone through the wringer and he needs more help than what we can provide.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let me start by telling you that I asked Lauren and Josh if I could write about these issues and they graciously gave their permission. I'm just telling my thoughts and feelings, but it's about their journey, which is not easy. I'm very proud of my children and how they deal with these serious issues. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have I told you lately how much mental illness sucks!!! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Josh has not been doing well for several months now. His mood swings, depression, coping skills and thought process are out of control, leading us to have to admit him to a hospital for 8 days. God bless him, he worked his tail off in there and made real progress, but not enough to keep him safe and on an upward trend towards a regular life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Through our wonderful doctors at The Tarnow Center, we have contracted with an educational consultant, whom will work with us over the next year to get the best care for Josh. Right now this means this residential facility. It's not a hospital, but a secure home setting with only 16 beds. Josh will receive intensive group and individual therapy, as well as have his educational needs met with an accredited program that meets his learning differences. Oh, did I mention snowboarding and hiking!! There are some perks!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Josh's length of stay depends on his progress and, much to our chagrin, what the insurance co. will approve. The typical length of stay is around 3-4 months. We'll have weekly staffings with Josh and his therapists via Skype, be able to talk to him on the phone and visit him at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's just not enough for my hurting heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How do I say goodbye tomorrow? How do I turn over my broken boy to strangers? How will he cope? Will he be scared and I won't be there to comfort him? I've only cried twice so far, and I pretty much did everything possible to squeeze back the tears, for fear that if I really start crying I won't be able to stop. Josh, and maybe Rick, is taking cues from me on how to deal with this seemingly impossible, yet necessary task. I can't fall apart yet. Too much to do!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, I sit here in a hotel room in Salt Lake City, after a whirlwind of planning, completing forms, buying REAL winter coats, looking at Josh sleeping for the last time for a while. It's all happened so fast. From the time we made the decision to now has been 5 days. Good thing, because it hasn't left me much time to cry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Josh has taken this move quite well. I'm really proud of him! He was a bit taken back at first, and took out his apprehensions on what he could and couldn't bring from the packing list. No t-shirts with band logos (what, no Beatles shirts!!!)and no iPod is hard for him, as music is very calming, but they have allowed Josh to bring his acoustic guitar. Thank God for that! Seriously! He started expressing his fear of going a little yesterday and all I can do is say "I know, honey. We'll be with you every step". I know he's freaked out because I've gotten lots of hugs and he's even held my hand a few times (his decision). BIG sigh!!!! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is hard on Lauren as well. Hard for her to process it all and cope with her feelings. She is with my sister (thanks, Susie!), who thankfully came out to pick up Lauren so we had one less thing to manage. Watching them say goodbye was ... Ugh. No crying now!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We check in tomorrow at 9:00 am and we'll see what awaits us. I'm anticipating I'll be returning to the hotel with puffy eyes and a red nose, but that's a given. I KNOW we are doing the right thing for Josh and that this is the RIGHT facility for him. I just feel it. All Rick and I have ever wanted is for our children to lead healthy, productive, meaningful lives while managing their mental illnesses, as they will nned to for the rest of their lives. Just what all of you guys want for your kids, hopefully without that last part. Can I tell you again that mental illness sucks!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These goals for our son are only reachable by taking this path right now. I know that. Someone just tell my heart, ok?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-2514608100880183580?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/2514608100880183580/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=2514608100880183580" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/2514608100880183580?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/2514608100880183580?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2011/10/talk-to-my-heart.html" title="Talk to My Heart!!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEABQX06cSp7ImA9WxBVEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-3321251379310592427</id><published>2010-02-12T13:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T13:25:50.319-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-12T13:25:50.319-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Yea, yea. I know, it's been a while.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, I'm driving Lauren to school. That is always an adventure in itself. Miss Someone has already woken up on the usual grumpy side of the bed. Stomp, stomp, stomp. "Where are my earrings?" Stomp, stomp, stomp. "I can't find my jacket!" Stomp, stomp, stomp. "I can put as much sugar on my cereal as I want to!" et cetera, et cetera. What a lovely start to my day!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The joyfulness continues in the car. There is slamming of purses and backbacks, grumbling, etc and I can quickly tell how the next hour of my morning will go. As I pull out of the neighborhood this thought pops into my head to tell Lauren that I love her. So, I say "I love you, Lauren." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She turns her head with this look of "What the heck did you did you just say?" on her face. I said it again and she threw her arms down by her sides and gave this giant 'harumph' sound. She said "Why did you say that to me?" and I told her "Because&amp;nbsp; I do". I told her I love her when she's sweet and kind and I love her when she's grumpy and snarky too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She sat still for a moment and then ............. she relaxed and her whole demeanor changed. The rest of our trip was pleasant and enjoyable. Can I get a BIG Amen to that!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As Lauren got out of the car she turned to me and said, "Thanks for driving me to school, Mama. Have a good day. See you later."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess what goes around really does come around. Have a good day, people!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-3321251379310592427?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/3321251379310592427/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=3321251379310592427" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/3321251379310592427?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/3321251379310592427?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2010/02/yea-yea.html" title="" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8BR3g7eip7ImA9WxNbFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-4677665779408587285</id><published>2009-11-16T15:05:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T15:27:36.602-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-16T15:27:36.602-06:00</app:edited><title>"He's Not Finished With Me Yet!"  - to quote a Heath</title><content type="html">You know how you think back to something you wish you'd never done/said? I have many of those moments and just cringe when I think of things I'm not so proud of.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I often think about those times, as I watch Lauren and Josh go about their daily lives. Being the typical (in most aspects)&amp;nbsp;teenagers that they are I hear them say things to people or do things&amp;nbsp;that I can't believe. Don't get me wrong, my kids are great! For the most part, Rick and I are the ones that get the brunt of things from them. But..............like all youth, and some adults,&amp;nbsp;with an underdeveloped prefrontal cortex, L and J lose their cool and blurt out something rude,&amp;nbsp;crass or uncalled&amp;nbsp;for.&amp;nbsp;Sometimes I say something, which of course is met with a 'lovely' response from them, but most of the time it just needs to pass away as quickly as it came out. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's when I&amp;nbsp;reflect back to my own actions and words when I was younger, and ... not so young. Double ugh! But, that's where&amp;nbsp;my new favorite song comes in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have you heard&amp;nbsp;of &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/brandonheath"&gt;Brandon Heath&lt;/a&gt;?&amp;nbsp;You HAVE GOT to hear his song &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wait and See&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;! Click on the link and you'll find 2 places, the song and the video, where you can hear it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What does it say? I've highlighted my favorite parts of the lyrics:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I was born in Tennessee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Late July humidity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Doctor said I was lucky to be alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I&amp;nbsp;been trouble since the day that I got here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Trouble to the day that I disappear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;That will be the day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;That I finally get it right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;CHORUS:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;There is hope for me yet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Because God won't forget &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;All the plans He's made for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I'll have to wait and see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;//He's not finished with me yet//&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I never really was that good in school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I talked too much broke the rules&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Teachers thought I was a hopeless fool alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I don't know how but I made it through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;It's one of those things that you got to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I always had a knack for telling the truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;CHORUS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Still wondering why I'm here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Still wrestling with my fear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;But Oh! He's up to something&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;But the farther out I go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I see enough to know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;That I'm not here for nothin'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;He's up to somethin'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;So now's my time to be a man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Follow my heart as far as I can&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;No tellin' where I'm endin' up tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I never slow down or so it seems&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;But singing my heart is one of my dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;All I got to do is hold on tight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;There is hope for me yet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Because God won't forget&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;All the plans He's made for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I'll have to wait and see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;////He's not finished with me yet////&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
God has plans for me. I have no idea what they are. Most of the time I'm only aware of what God doesn't have planned for me. Sometimes I don't like those plans and therefore, react. The older I get I do realize that God does have something in store for me, more than I'm doing now. But I really do have to wait and see!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
God isn't finished with Lauren or Josh or Rick or me! Thank God for that! We're a family holding on tight to our faith that there is some amazing future plan for each one of us. I just know it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-4677665779408587285?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/4677665779408587285/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=4677665779408587285" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/4677665779408587285?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/4677665779408587285?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/11/hes-not-finished-with-me-yet-to-quote.html" title="&quot;He's Not Finished With Me Yet!&quot;  - to quote a Heath" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMDSX0zfCp7ImA9WxNbE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-3034619677659934867</id><published>2009-11-16T11:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T11:27:58.384-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-16T11:27:58.384-06:00</app:edited><title>I Gotta Feelin'... Woo hoo, Boo hoo</title><content type="html">So, I was just sitting on my couch, drinking coffee, trying to catch up on some shows on the DVR before anything else gets erased for lack of memory space. I flipped through my recordings of Oprah and they had the behind the scenes stuff&amp;nbsp;from her opening show for this season, where she had the Black Eyed Peas singing their song "I Got a Feeling".&amp;nbsp;Over 20,000 people&amp;nbsp;totally surprised Oprah with a 'flash mob dance' (I had to look that up!) for the song. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I sat there watching the dance, after seeing it on the opening show and again on YouTube, with the biggest smile on my face and singing along. Pretty typical Beth, right? I love the whole thing; the song, the band, the synchronized&amp;nbsp;movement of the crowd and watching Oprah realize what was happening and then get totally into it. I started tearing up, which is something that I do when I'm happy or sad. I thought I was happy....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All of a sudden I found myself crying for real. Not happy tears but something coming up out of me. It happened yesterday in church too. Tears came from 'nowhere!' and wouldn't stop. Have you ever really noticed how connected happy and sad emotions are? Of course, I'm&amp;nbsp;wondering what my tears are about, but it's also fascinating to me how my emotions went from joy and happiness (that's how I feel when I experience music I like) to sorrow so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe music is like alcohol, it accentuates whatever emotion is most present at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, being the mental health advocate that I am learning to become, I went to the internet to see what researchers say about the most powerful organ in the human body: the brain! Here's what I found...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
From &lt;a href="http://www.sfn.org/index.cfm?pagename=news_11052002c"&gt;an article&lt;/a&gt; published by The Society for Neuroscience - "Brain activity during these tasks showed involvement of brain areas typically associated with the generation of emotions and areas that control motor behavior. Listening to self-selected happy and sad musical selections also produced brain activity associated with emotions and music processing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, there it is. It's all in the hardwiring! Fascinating, isn't it. Complicated and confusing, isn't it! It's a wonder that anyone is "typical/normal". What a miracle!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, not to be ignored is the job to ponder over what's getting to me.........hmmm, so many choices, so little time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-3034619677659934867?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/3034619677659934867/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=3034619677659934867" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/3034619677659934867?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/3034619677659934867?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-gotta-feelin-woo-hoo-boo-hoo.html" title="I Gotta Feelin'... Woo hoo, Boo hoo" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUANQXsyeCp7ImA9WxNbE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-6706466281312008204</id><published>2009-11-04T15:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T10:09:50.590-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-16T10:09:50.590-06:00</app:edited><title>My political views - part 2</title><content type="html">So, let me begin today with the knowledge that many of the things Obama is doing now have been done by past presidents, including Presidents Bush, Clinton, Bush (the dad), Reagan, etc. I know they had czars, I know there was controversy, I know there were illegal things that went on. Why do people who argue for Obama say things like "Well, Bush did that!" Actually, that is a favorite phrase among Obama supporters. Let's blame everything on Bush! Well, get over yourselves. Bush is long gone. Be a mature, responsible gov't and take responsibility for your actions. I personally was quite upset with how things went during the last 1-2 years of Bush's administration. Like I said yesterday, I'm an equal opportunity offender kind of gal! It doesn't matter &lt;em&gt;WHO YOU ARE&lt;/em&gt;, WRONG IS WRONG!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The problem I have with Obama and Friends&amp;nbsp;is the word twisting, the deceit, the blame game, and most of all, the arrogance. Ultimate arrogance. Does Obama and his administration really believe that we will fall for it? Well, the answer is........... yes, many people do believe in him. Not as many as before, including many democrats that have reversed their thinking.&amp;nbsp;A lot of the problem is the media, TV and newspaper, that refuse to report anything against Obama, unless forced to. People can't be upset about things if they don't know what's happening. I'm not saying that if you believe in Obama you are uninformed. Not at all. Yet, how can people support an administration that has done the things this one has? Do you think that Americans would stand behind and support Bush if he had:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* flubbed his lines if the teleprompter wasn't working (actually,&amp;nbsp;Bush was&amp;nbsp;constantly ridiculed&amp;nbsp;for this); even Joe Bidden teases about Obama needing his teleprompter&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* ignored the American people at every rally (with no arrests, not even garbage on the ground!) and instead said &lt;a href="http://businessandmedia.org/articles/2009/20090415103312.aspx"&gt;he didn't even know that rallies were occurring&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;, there were protests in over 750 cities nationwide on April 15, 2009 with thousands at each of the larger rallies, even thought&amp;nbsp;many news casts under reported the attendance&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* actually, when Cindy Sheehan and about 50 others protested President Bush about the war in Iraq, this is what he had to say, ' "Listen: I sympathize with Mrs. Sheehan. She feels strongly about her position. And she has every right in the world to say what she believes. This is America. She has a right to her position," Mr. Bush said.'&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* Bush acknowledged Mrs. Sheehan's right to protest. Obama administration&amp;nbsp;called protesters astro-turf (thanks, Nancy Pelosi!), UnAmerican, racist, ignorant, Nazi's &amp;amp;&amp;nbsp;"tea&amp;nbsp;baggers", &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I actually had to ask Josh what that meant.&amp;nbsp;It's such a gross&amp;nbsp;boy locker room thing!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; And yes, our president, other elected officials and news reporters called the American people these words. Shameful! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; "Obama then mocked the right wing’s tea bagger gatherings for their misplaced anger and, indirectly, Fox News for promoting them:&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; OBAMA: "So, you know, when you see, you know, those of you who are watching certain news channels, on which I’m not very popular, and you see folks waving tea bags around, let me just remind them that I am happy to have a serious conversation about how we are going to cut our health care costs down over the long term how we’re going to stabilize social security. [...] [L]et’s not play games and pretend that the reason is because of the Recovery Act because that’s just a fraction of the overall problem that we’ve got."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* how about the &lt;a href="http://www.gopusa.com/commentary/dpatton/2008/dp_03171.shtml"&gt;double standards&lt;/a&gt; that many Americans are okay with. Not Me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* made positive statements about Hugo Chavez, Fidel Castro &amp;amp; Mahmoud Ahmadinejad; when Chavez and Castro think you are a liberal, then you are WAAAAAY left&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* &lt;a href="http://www.americanthinker.com/2008/01/barack_obama_and_israel.html"&gt;seemingly aligning himself away from Israel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* trying to silence Fox News- Check out &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5grZ9qgSRNN5sAMW8smsQXGMwrwzgD9BH47R02"&gt;this story from the Associated Press&lt;/a&gt;. Here's the first paragraph of the story:&amp;nbsp;'The Obama administration allowed a Fox News Channel reporter to interview Treasury Department "pay czar" Kenneth Feinberg after other network news executives said they wouldn't use a pool arrangement to speak to him unless Fox was included.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* global warming/climate change - We have laws and regulations in place/more to come to help our planet. I love nature, animals, fresh water; hey where I grew up outside WAS my home, was my playmate and my entertainment. But, there are just some things that are being beaten to death. Carbon footprints. I understand the science behind it. However, the people (Gore, a lot of Hollywood and Washington)&amp;nbsp;yelling the loudest about it are the ones with the biggest footprints! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Okay, I think I'm going to pop a gasket! Have you heard about pet carbon footprints? Oh yes! Our PETS are now also responsible for hurting the earth. Check out &lt;a href="http://www.baltimoresun.com/features/green/sns-green-reduce-pets-carbon-footprint,0,3413047.story"&gt;this website&lt;/a&gt;:&amp;nbsp;Get the 'green' poop bags: Eliminate plastic grocery bags and shop for corn-based, biodegradable poop bags. A pack of 100 bags from Poopbags.com costs around $20&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It might sound strange but a research carried out by two New Zealanders has unearthed a startling fact – &lt;a href="http://www.allvoices.com/s/event-4475381/aHR0cDovL3d3dy5kbmFpbmRpYS5jb20vc2NpdGVjaC9yZXBvcnRfbGFuZC1jcnVpc2VyLWlzLW1vcmUtZWNvLWZyaWVuZGx5LXRoYW4teW91ci1kb2dfMTMwMjUzNQ=="&gt;dogs are a danger to the health of our planet&lt;/a&gt;. A medium sized dog has carbon footprints that are comparable to that of a Toyota Land Cruiser that does 6000 miles per year! &lt;strong&gt;The article even talks about the ecological&amp;nbsp;fin-print of a goldfish is equal to that of 2 cellphones.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So we are supposed to be concerned about the fin-print of a goldfish when China, Pakistan, India and many other countries with a high industrial population have no plans to change their ecological ways?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am one of those who doesn't believe in global warming. I choose to believe the many, many SCIENTISTS that have disproven it over Al Gore, whose movie "An Inconvenient Truth" has been proven to have over 20 lies in it, makes millions of dollars&amp;nbsp;for his campaign. Even ABC's Diane Sawyer was harsh on him about the money he is profiting from his opinions!&amp;nbsp;What kind of funds are the real scientists making, hmm? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, climate change is another thing. There is no doubt that our world's climate is changing. I have no problem recycling my garbage, trying to reduce and reuse, etc. I do take issue with those who tell me I &lt;strong&gt;must &lt;/strong&gt;buy &lt;a href="http://www.ehow.com/how_5585932_dispose-energy-saving-light-bulbs.html"&gt;certain lightbulbs&lt;/a&gt; (try disposing of them), buy a green car, etc. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hey, wasn't it back in the 70's when scientists said that the world was heading for an ice age! I grew up in Canada and remember thinking that we would be affected a lot sooner than others because we were so far up North.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, I've said a lot of things here. Now you know where I stand! Maybe you think differently of me&amp;nbsp;now, maybe you are angry for me stating my opinions and stating many, many facts. Well, if you do then that's your problem. I don't think less of you for yours! But, please don't ignore facts! If you don't think my facts are correct, please, by all means disprove me.&amp;nbsp;Send me a comment on this blog and let me know where I messed up. Seriously, I am mature enough to handle it if I am wrong.&amp;nbsp;I will post a correction and it won't be on the back page, baby!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tomorrow, I'll post some pics of Rick, myself and the kids at Houston's Tea Party rally this past Monday night. It was a great event for us. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wonder what will happen when I wear my tea party rally t-shirt out in public?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love you all, you democrats, republicans, liberals, conservatives, independents &amp;amp; socialists!&amp;nbsp; :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-6706466281312008204?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/6706466281312008204/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=6706466281312008204" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/6706466281312008204?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/6706466281312008204?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-political-views-part-2.html" title="My political views - part 2" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIBRXg-fyp7ImA9WxNUE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-7842246673566004520</id><published>2009-11-03T14:31:00.034-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T21:59:14.657-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-04T21:59:14.657-06:00</app:edited><title>It's Election Day - I elect to voice my political opinion!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SvCQ60Rpn9I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/LXmJnaxeSNE/s1600-h/j0384726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SvCQ60Rpn9I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/LXmJnaxeSNE/s200/j0384726.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;Just starting this post gives me a little anxiety about how it will be received. Why? Because I don't like to create controversy. Ha, you might say! 'Helloooooo, Beth? Do you know yourself at all!!' No really, it's true. I don't like to start it and I don't think I do. I have beliefs, opinions, a moral compass and take a firm stance on issues that matter to me. That's my God-given and citizen right that I choose to exercise. &lt;em&gt;See, I do exercise&lt;/em&gt;! If others believe that I am controversial that's their opinion and I'm totally okay with that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Politics is a scary topic. I have close friends and some family that are liberal, vote democratic &amp;amp; support President Obama. Their reasons vary but none the less, we do not share many of the same views. By no means do I want to alienate them or be divisive. You see, I continue to fight being a people-pleaser. Just check out some of those "personality tests" I've done on Facebook! :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A year ago today (well, actually Nov. 4th 2008; but last Election Day) I believe that something terrible happened to our country. I knew that Obama would be elected! Rick still held out hope for John McCain but I knew that people were too angry about the war, too angry about our economy and hated President George W. Bush. I knew that Americans were sick and tired of older white men leading our country and that's mostly what the Republican Party gave us to choose from. I was prepared for the results, or so I thought!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was so wrong! And here I thought Hillary Clinton would divide our country!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Little did I know that our White House administration (Obama, Rahm Emanuel, Tim Geithner, Janet Napolitano, etc., would become so, so, so........ what's the right word. I'm not entirely sure. Here are issues that have frightened me and stuck with me about what "hope and change" have done to our country. This goes for the House and Senate as well, including their illustrious figure heads. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'll premise this with the fact that some of Obama politics are not new. They've been around for decades and that republicans and conservatives are also just as guilty of such reckless behavior. I take an equal opportunity offender position. If you mess up, regardless of who you are, you should be gone!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Remember, WE VOTE THEM IN! THEY ARE NOT OUR BOSSES! THEY WORK FOR US! Almost all of them, Republican and democrat alike, have forgotten it. And its days like today where we get to VOTE THEM OUT, too. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, back to the issues that have really struck a nerve with me over the last 9-10 months:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* the way they are going about closing Gitmo; ummm, hello? If other countries don't want these political terrorists (oh sorry, I don't think we're allowed to use that word "terrorist" now) and refuse to take them off of our hands, doesn't that send a message? Who wants Khalid Shaikh Mohammed (remember the killing of Daniel Pearl, remember 9/11), now that his trial being delayed was one of the 1st things Obama did&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* lies, lies, lies - how about no pork barrel spending, or no earmarks on bills (then we got over 900 of them), how about trying to reach across "the aisle",&amp;nbsp;how about not being SO left, etc.,&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.nationaljournal.com/campaigns/2008/wh08/promises_obama.htm"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt; to see Obama's campaign promises &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* the czars - hmmm, let's see!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Van Jones &lt;strike&gt;is&lt;/strike&gt; was one of the czars. He is a self proclaimed communist who signed a petition that 9/11 was an inside job, thinks that "[t]he white polluters as well as a white environmentalists have been radically steering poison in to a people of color's communities since they don't have a secular probity frame.". &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Kevin Jennings, what about him - "Kevin Jennings, President Obama’s Assistant Deputy Secretary of the Office of Safe and Drug FreeSchools at the U.S. Department of Education, is in hot water this week for having failed to report that a 15-year-old sophomore student in his school had told him of having sex with an older man. But failure to report what appeared to be a case of statutory rape of a child may be the least of Jennings’ worries. Lori Roman of Regular Folks United points to statements by Jennings a decade or more ago when he praised Harry Hay of the North American Association for Man-Boy Love Association (NAMBLA), which promotes the legalization of sexual abuse of young boys by older men." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The list of the 30 plus czars - could go on for days! You look it up for yourself! Many of them are very controversial. What does that say about our president? Besides, &lt;a href="http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601039&amp;amp;refer=columnist_skrzycki&amp;amp;sid=aGu3izkfIrhc"&gt;Republicans &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;amp; Democrats&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;are upset over the fact that these czars are not investigated by&amp;nbsp;anyone other than Obama's admin.,&lt;/a&gt; have&amp;nbsp;no confirmation to go through and answer to&amp;nbsp;NO ONE except Obama. Now, even Pelosi, Dodd,&amp;nbsp;Reid and their collegues don't get that favor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* some of Obama's friends/heroes/idols - Rev. Jeremiah Wright-even Obama distanced himself from Wright, even though before he was elected he sat in Rev. Wright's church for 20 years,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2008/04/11/opinion/main4009369.shtml"&gt;this is an interesting article&lt;/a&gt;, by CBS none the less! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; William Ayers - "Bill Ayers who, of course, is notorious as one of the founders of the Weather Underground and himself a Weather Underground terrorist in the Sixties who helped to bomb the Pentagon and he and his comrades planned the bombing of the Capitol and other bombings again that were used to intimidate the families of federal prosecutors who were moving against groups like the Black Panthers and such." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Saul Alinsky - "Obama really became a student of Alinsky's work, an expert on it, learning his notions of power, his notions of organizing, and it was Alinsky who originated this idea of what he calls direct action, which was this use of intimidation tactics intentionally militant and scary, both to intimidate politicians and business leaders into doing what these radical groups wanted and also frankly as a kind of organizing tactic because going out and confronting and intimidating people is very exciting and gets a lot of members into your organization. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* ACORN -&amp;nbsp;Obama hailed them until, like Rev. Wright, they started to tarnish him; click on the video from &lt;a href="http://www.breitbart.tv/makers-of-undercover-acorn-videos-hold-news-conference/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; site, now they are dealing with an investigation&lt;a href="http://www.journal-news.com/news/nation-world-news/obama-favors-investigation-into-acorn-scandal-308145.html?showComments=true"&gt; favored by Obama&lt;/a&gt;, even though he said,&amp;nbsp;"Frankly, it's not really something I've followed closely," Obama said. "I didn't even know that ACORN was getting a whole lot of federal money." REEEAAAALLLLY! $53 million tax dollars is not "a whole lot of federal money. Even CBS had &lt;a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/09/15/eveningnews/main5313869.shtml"&gt;something to say&lt;/a&gt;. Yes, I said CBS. You can stop rubbing your eyes! Even CBS can't deny the Obama schemes any longer. How about &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32848593/ns/politics-capitol_hill/?ns=politics-capitol_hill"&gt;NBC&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/Business/irs-acorn-sever-ties-tax-advice-scandal/story?id=8655380"&gt;ABC&lt;/a&gt;? Yep, them too! They were all a little a lot slow on the pick up (I wonder why) they have to report the facts, right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* the firing of Gerald Walpin - first of all, this is one of Obama's campaign promises "Increase protections for whistleblowers"; "Barack Obama will strengthen whistleblower laws to protect federal workers who expose waste, fraud, and abuse of authority in government."—Obama's The Change We Need In Washington" - oh really!!!! Then, explain &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonexaminer.com/opinion/blogs/beltway-confidential/Whats-behind-Obamas-sudden-firing-of-the-AmeriCorps-inspector-general-47877797.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* add to the Obama debacle- gov't healthcare bill that the majority American people overwhelmingly don't want to endorse (trillions of dollars for worse healthcare than we have right now, less coverage, less freedom to choose). My family suffers a lot financially because of poor healthcare coverage for our kids' biological disorders but I sure don't want what Canada or Great Britain has! Have you heard ONE SINGLE Canadian or British administrative or regular "Joe" person come out to strongly endorse a gov't run healthcare system? I'm waiting...... Saying that it is better than what we have right now is not good enough (in my opinion and many millions of peoples' too - it will be much worse). &lt;strong&gt;I do want healthcare for all citizens&lt;/strong&gt; that want it. This just isn't the way to go, in my opinion. We ended up in the US because my dad, a&amp;nbsp;former surgeon, did not want to participate in socialized medicine. Have you asked&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;your&amp;nbsp;doctor&lt;/em&gt; if they support this healthcare reform? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* how about when people started to say no to Obama/Pelosi/Reid healthcare reform citizens were called racist; "Are you one of the tens of thousands of people who don't want government-run health care and showed up at a town hall or a rally to let it be known? If that's you (then you are part of the right-wing, extremist, angry mob and your anger is fake. It's not organic. It's not grassroots." Have you seen the numerous ways that average Americans have been treated, talked about, vilified by our own elected gov't officials? Disgusting!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, these are "just the facts, ma'am!" Truly, they are. Look them up if you're not sure. Send me a comment if you think I have my facts wrong. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Whew! I've been working on this posting off and on today and I'm worn out! Never before have I been so charged up about politics! Why now? Because I've been given a message in my life to stand up, stand up to what is wrong (not by my standards, everyone's!), deceitful, and perhaps evil, if I dare say that word. Remember &lt;a href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-cant-stand-it-anymore.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-standing-up.html"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt;!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I just gotta do it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Part&amp;nbsp;2 tomorrow!It's time for me to do my mom mobile run of the day! Family first!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-7842246673566004520?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/7842246673566004520/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=7842246673566004520" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/7842246673566004520?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/7842246673566004520?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/11/its-election-day-i-elected-to-voice-my.html" title="It's Election Day - I elect to voice my political opinion!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SvCQ60Rpn9I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/LXmJnaxeSNE/s72-c/j0384726.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcAQXc_eSp7ImA9WxNVEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-2025849696658407744</id><published>2009-10-21T14:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T14:24:00.941-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-21T14:24:00.941-05:00</app:edited><title>No, You're at the Right Place...</title><content type="html">...if you're looking for A Rainey Kind of Day! Yes, I know! Every time you come back here my blog looks different. Well, it's like clothes shopping. I found a few websites like &lt;a href="http://www.thecutestblogontheblock.com/home.html"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt; that makes free backgrounds to use.&lt;br /&gt;
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So, instead of trying on clothes in Chico's I'm trying on blog backgrounds in my study.&lt;br /&gt;
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Hope my blinds are closed! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-2025849696658407744?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/2025849696658407744/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=2025849696658407744" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/2025849696658407744?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/2025849696658407744?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/10/no-youre-at-right-place.html" title="No, You're at the Right Place..." /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUESXo5fSp7ImA9WxNVEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-7584217797686470941</id><published>2009-10-20T10:52:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T22:36:48.425-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-20T22:36:48.425-05:00</app:edited><title>STIGMA - A Four Letter Word with a Few Extra Thrown in There</title><content type="html">Stigma - I hate that word! But, I have to admit, I must fight the stigma of mental health issues within myself. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lauren had a setback at home today. I won't go into details because that's not the issue. The issue is that my first impression is to NOT TALK ABOUT IT, HIDE IT FROM EVERYONE. There is a part of me that is embarrassed to post this. That's the stigma part. But the advocate in me is stronger! &lt;strong&gt;Much stronger&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;
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The advocate in me says "Would I be embarrassed if my child had cancer and had a low blood count? What about if my child's tumor had new cell growth, or if her C125 marker was elevated?"&lt;br /&gt;
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Of course, the answer is no! No one is at fault for having symptoms of their disease raise their ugly head. You don't blame a person for their body chemistry and biological responses. Lauren can no more control her neurons mis-firing or her brain chemistry being out of whack than a child with leukemia can help going out of remission.&lt;br /&gt;
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What? How dare I compare my child to a child with leukemia? Am I not sensitive enough to know that children die of leukemia? Well, let me tell you some facts:&lt;br /&gt;
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* children diagnosed with leukemia these days have less than a 10% chance of dying; I'm not undermining it, 10% is horrific!&lt;br /&gt;
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* children diagnosed with brain disorders and mental illness (such as bipolar, ADHD, schizophrenia, depression, etc) have approx. 17% chance of death, due to suicide, risky behavior, impulsive decision making, drug &amp;amp; alcohol overdose&lt;br /&gt;
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* children diagnosed with leukemia can be cured&lt;br /&gt;
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* children diagnosed with brain disorders and mental illness can NEVER be cured; they must learn to cope, self-manage their disorders for the rest of their lives&lt;br /&gt;
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* all of these children endure painful blood tests, medical procedures and scans, medications that give them side effects, hospitalizations (except if&amp;nbsp;kids with mental illness&amp;nbsp;are hospitalized for their disorder their parents don't get to spend the night,&amp;nbsp;parents have to leave them there, alone, and usually have limited&amp;nbsp;daily/weekly visits)&lt;br /&gt;
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* have you ever seen a community fundraiser to raise funds for a family dealing with mental illness; dealing with mental health issues are very expensive and are not paid the same as biological issues, even though they are (the brain is an organ, right?)&lt;br /&gt;
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* there is no Make-A-Wish foundation for our children&lt;br /&gt;
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* there are no balloons, or get well wishes or prayer vigils for our children&lt;br /&gt;
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* people don't like to talk about mental illness or brain disorders even though it is just a disease of the brain&lt;br /&gt;
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Hmmm, do I sound a little bitter? I ask myself that as I type and the answer is.... no. No, because I don't wish anyone else ill will. I'm not dwelling in self pity. I'm not even saying I wish my kids didn't have their diseases. I'm not bitter, I'm determined. Determined that my children will have the best lives they can, the best that Rick and I can give them with ALL that we have to deal with every day. Their diseases (really it's more of a family's disease/effort) are our main focus in life. Other than our focus on God, the One that has and will continue to lead us through this life.&lt;br /&gt;
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Sometimes I pray for Lauren and Josh to be healed completely. I have to ask! Jesus performed miracles and why not for my kids! Most of the time, I'm just asking for the strength and faith to continue on our journey, calm or rough as it may be. Being Lauren and Josh's mom has made me a better mother, wife and a better person. They have challenged me (oh boy, have they ever) to rise way above what I thought I could ever do and stay there for months on end.&lt;br /&gt;
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I am who I am because of my children. If you don't like me the way I am, too &amp;amp;*$#  bad! This is whom my children need me to be! I am my children's warrior. I am my children's advocate. I am my children's mom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-7584217797686470941?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/7584217797686470941/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=7584217797686470941" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/7584217797686470941?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/7584217797686470941?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/10/stigma-four-letter-word-with-few-extra.html" title="STIGMA - A Four Letter Word with a Few Extra Thrown in There" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcDRn45cSp7ImA9WxNVEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-1886025698716619963</id><published>2009-10-16T18:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T22:34:37.029-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-20T22:34:37.029-05:00</app:edited><title>That Better Not Be Martha Stewart at My Door!</title><content type="html">I have a dilemma. In a previous post (&lt;a href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2008/12/have-you-ever-vacuumed-concrete.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;) I told you about our the demise of our dining room carpet. So, ever since, I've been slightly embarrassed by it's absence. Not with my close friends. They accept me, my family (and our home, I guess) with all our flaws and love us anyways. That's what friends are for, right?&lt;br /&gt;
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I'm talking about the OTHERS. Who are the others? Well, that might just be you, the one reading this blog right now. You know - the type of relationship you have with people where you see them in certain settings (like school functions/committees, church, sports) and you can even get really close. Especially if the relationship lasts a long time.&amp;nbsp;BUT.... for some reason it just doesn't bloom into a full blown friendship outside of that setting. You know what I mean, right?&lt;br /&gt;
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A few months ago, I was taking some food over to some friends we've known in our church for 20 years. &lt;em&gt;Hmmm, that can't be right! I'm not old enough to have friends I've known for 20 years!!&lt;/em&gt; Anyways, we haven't seen much of this couple lately and Rick and I enjoyed chatting with them again. We talked about&amp;nbsp;a whole group of us getting together again like we used to, but the husband, Roger, said that his lovely wife, Susan, doesn't want to have anyone over until she has a few things fixed in the house. Boy, can I ever relate!&lt;br /&gt;
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That got me thinking about my stinkin' dining room carpet, or rather lack of stinkin' carpet! And the pulls in our berber from Astro's claws, and the cracks in the tile, and our less than special back yard, and....,...., and ...., and ..... Now don't get me wrong. We have a lovely home that we've lived in for just over 8 years. I love the size and layout. We're in a beautiful neighborhood, close to our church that we seem to be at all the time, close to our friends, close to what we need, etc. Our house is just at that point where it needs some touch-ups, some fixing up, some repainting, etc. A clean layer of most things. Got the picture?&lt;br /&gt;
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Then, I think about our finances and how every dime we have goes to our children's tuitions, physicians, therapy,&amp;nbsp;meds, my meds!!, Rick's meds!!, and that we are doing the best we can. Our house can wait, our children can't. Their future is right now!&lt;br /&gt;
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I also think about people I meet thru outreach work with our church, see on TV or read about that have lost their houses due to job cuts, illnesses, the economy, etc and know how fortunate we are to have all the blessings that God has given&amp;nbsp;us. I should be grateful for having carpet (even with the runs or stains), tiles (with a crack), a yard (without landscaping). Geez, now I&amp;nbsp;feel guilty. God also gave us humility.&lt;br /&gt;
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BUT... then comes the latest junk mail with all it's real estate, new home construction&amp;nbsp;or remodeling photos and I go right back to thinking how embarrassed I am by the state of my house. Some of those 7 deadly sins raise their ugly heads again. &lt;br /&gt;
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Wait a minute - what am I so&amp;nbsp;ashamed of? That we spend all we can and more on giving our children the best chance in life with the conditions they were born with, and still find a bit to give back to God. That&amp;nbsp;we have a lived-in home? That I spend more of my time on Rick and my kids and our lives than my house? &lt;em&gt;Hmmm, I bet that's how God wants it!&lt;/em&gt; That my kids and dogs&amp;nbsp;and cats are constantly in and out of my house so much I can't keep track of their shoe/paw prints? Or is it that I&amp;nbsp;think people will see me as a&amp;nbsp;terrible person because I don't want to scrub my carpets until they &lt;strike&gt;shine,&lt;/strike&gt; &lt;strike&gt;glow&lt;/strike&gt;, unstain!!! Hey, news flash! I don't want to scrub my carpets. I don't want to&amp;nbsp;wipe&amp;nbsp;every scuff off my walls. I don't want to spend every dollar we earn or every hour of every&amp;nbsp;weekend fixing up my house so it looks like Better Homes and Gardens.&amp;nbsp;Well, I wouldn't even come close, but I could&amp;nbsp;dream.&lt;br /&gt;
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I, just like all of you, want to live and play and laugh. I want to do fun things,&amp;nbsp;go to movies, take a nap on Sunday afternoons (now that my kids are older and I don't have to worry about them&amp;nbsp;running out the door naked wearing nothing but a Batman cape), be outside when Texas weather permits, dance in my living room while listening to my iPod and do just enough chores and laundry to keep us going. Don't get me wrong, I like a clean kitchen, a sparkling fridge and a tidy underwear drawer but Betty Crocker I ain't!&lt;br /&gt;
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So, what's the bottom line in all of this verbage? I'm intimidated by my friends' houses that look so neat and tidy when I go in them. They all look so clean, beautifully/charmingly decorated, organized and updated and mine, well...... doesn't. But, I guess I don't want to work as hard as all of my friends to have houses that look like that either. Wish I did, but oh well. Or maybe, like Roger and Susan, you might just feel like I do. That we all want to be more social, wish to be more spontaneous and invite people (other than our closest friends/family) to come over just for fun and hope than they care more about the people in the house than the dust bunnies hiding in the corners. &lt;br /&gt;
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So, next time I invite you over you BETTER NOT comment on my concrete floor if you know what's good for 'ya! Just kidding. Hey, Roger and Susan, your house or mine?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-1886025698716619963?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/1886025698716619963/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=1886025698716619963" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/1886025698716619963?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/1886025698716619963?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-have-dilemma.html" title="That Better Not Be Martha Stewart at My Door!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEDRnk8eip7ImA9WxNXF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-5871661574702447926</id><published>2009-10-04T15:50:00.017-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T13:51:17.772-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-05T13:51:17.772-05:00</app:edited><title>OMG! I'm LOL/ROFL/ROFLM*O! Wanna Come?</title><content type="html">I just posted a story this past weekend for the first time in 8 months. I had to check the rest of the blog site to see what else was needing a fixer upper and decided to add a link to a YouTube video. Turn to the right (shout out to the great move "Raising Arizona"), scroll down to my &lt;strong&gt;Do You Like YouTube&lt;/strong&gt; section and click on &lt;em&gt;Baseball Players Dance&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it hilarious! I just love it. Yes, I love music, all kinds of music and dancing. I also don't mind watching baseball, seeing as that's Rick's favorite sport and he used to play. Actually, he still plays for the Klein Krawlers team, when he hasn't pulled a muscle or sprained something. Aren't baseball players just mighty cute! Gotta love a man in a uniform. Okay, had a little bit of an ADD moment there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real reason I love this video is because it symbolizes how I try to view my life. Here are these people, on the field fired up to do their job. Life (in this case, rain) gets in the way and what's their reaction? Did they scream and yell, pout in the dugout, pitch a fit to their team manager, shake their fists to the heavens?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, they danced. They let go of what they couldn't change and decided to have some fun. They even had fun with the other team, their opponents, the "enemy". The best thing they did was laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was growing up there were lots of wonderful things and some not so great things to deal with. Somehow, as I became a teenager and young adult, I focused more on the 'rain delays' in my life. I was shy (I know, hard to believe, huh?), too serious, and afraid of life. Really afraid. The ironic thing is that, at that moment in my young life, I didn't even know of the rain delays heading my way, let alone the hurricanes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wanna know what changed things for me. Marrying Rick and becoming Lauren and Josh's mom! Have you heard my hubbie do impressions or tell a joke? He's a riot. Was the hero of his fraternity for winning them a keg in a comedy contest in Austin. Won a trip to St. Louis to see MLB after coming out the winner in a sports impersonation contest held by FM 950 KPRC. My kids inherited his talent for voice impersonations and witty thinking. When the 3 of them get going, I laugh so hard I cry. They do a mean "Family Guy" routine (even though I hate Family Guy; it's so rude!). But it wasn't necessarily the wonderful family moments or fun-loving goofy things that brought me out of my funk, although it should have. &lt;em&gt;It was the heartbreak&lt;/em&gt;. The rain delays. The hurricanes and tornadoes. As life swirled around us as a family, at one point I thought I might just go down the tubes. Fortunately, God made me survivor, determined to get through the bad stuff and come out the other side for the better. Heart surgeries, PDD, bipolar disorder, specialist physicians, schools not being able to help my kids leading to therapeutic schools across town, medication side affects, financial strain to the max, PTSD, driving 120 miles a day, etc....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thank God for my faith every day. Some days it's stronger than others, but it's always there. Has been growing daily for 2 decades now. God has given me many gifts to get me through - my personal strengths, family and friends who love and support us, wonderful professionals to guide and teach us, HOPE (that's a biggy) and LAUGHTER. Thank God for laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to laugh. I laugh a lot. I have a unique laugh, or so I've been told 100's of times. Not sure what "unique" means but, .... it doesn't concern me. Isn't laughter one of the best medicines for a body, mind and soul? It totally and instantly takes me out of what I'm stressed about, makes me feel younger at heart and full of life. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait to see what cracks me up (with laughter, that is) today? Here's praying that you as well will have that belly jiggling-snorting through your nose-laughing so hard you cry-almost wet your pants-laugh so hard people around you start laughing kind of opportunity today. If you do, leave me a comment and tell me what happened to I can chuckle some more! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sso9F3QpiPI/AAAAAAAAAO8/qlAKJI4sUI8/s1600-h/silly+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 242px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389187075044641010" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sso9F3QpiPI/AAAAAAAAAO8/qlAKJI4sUI8/s320/silly+2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sso-cDVTxII/AAAAAAAAAPE/o7s1wKmKtyw/s1600-h/3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 245px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 183px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389188555754161282" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sso-cDVTxII/AAAAAAAAAPE/o7s1wKmKtyw/s320/3.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sso9FKshIvI/AAAAAAAAAO0/BpXQ8mlj7Qs/s1600-h/silly+3.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sso9FKshIvI/AAAAAAAAAO0/BpXQ8mlj7Qs/s1600-h/silly+3.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sso9FKshIvI/AAAAAAAAAO0/BpXQ8mlj7Qs/s1600-h/silly+3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 241px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 174px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389187063081935602" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sso9FKshIvI/AAAAAAAAAO0/BpXQ8mlj7Qs/s320/silly+3.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LOL/ROFL/ROFLM*O!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-5871661574702447926?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/5871661574702447926/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=5871661574702447926" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/5871661574702447926?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/5871661574702447926?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-just-posted-story-this-past-weekend.html" title="OMG! I'm LOL/ROFL/ROFLM*O! Wanna Come?" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sso9F3QpiPI/AAAAAAAAAO8/qlAKJI4sUI8/s72-c/silly+2.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cCSXYzeSp7ImA9WxNXFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-2322739059844042857</id><published>2009-10-03T18:16:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T19:11:08.881-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-03T19:11:08.881-05:00</app:edited><title>I'm Standing Up</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SsfjCT7pKoI/AAAAAAAAAOs/EegTU_GXl5A/s1600-h/j0387491%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 162px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 241px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388525108021766786" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SsfjCT7pKoI/AAAAAAAAAOs/EegTU_GXl5A/s320/j0387491%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So, lately I've been getting this message over and over ............. STAND UP FOR WHAT IS RIGHT! You know, this is not easy. Simple but not easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The real problem I have is why is it not easy? Why are some considered to be a rebel, outspoken, being difficult, bossy, opinionated, or judgemental for doing the right thing? Isn't standing up for justice being done or doing the right thing what we're all supposed to do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take this situation. If someone is sick, not of body but of mind, and behaves in a really sick way that hurts other people, why is it wrong to stand up against that! Now, by standing up against it, I DO NOT MEAN doing that person wrong in return. No bad-mouthing, no gossiping, no character attack, slander, etc. ............ just holding that person responsible for their behavior. Like holding a mirror up to their faces. Sometimes it's just not enough to turn the other cheek or to walk away. Not everyone should be let off the hook.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just because sick people don't like someone saying "Your behavior is not appropriate" that doesn't make it wrong to say. Right? I know in this day and age we're supposed to be politically correct and not hurt other people's feelings, but come on people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So WWJD? Jesus didn't hold back his comments about society's bad behavior. At times He was VERY vocal! He also was loving, generous, understanding, caring, dependable, forgiving and moral. I'm not saying I'm like Jesus but I do &lt;em&gt;try to be&lt;/em&gt; like Him. That's what my devotion to my Christian faith expects of me. I'm not being self-righteous or pious. I hold myself to high standards. I expect anyone who sees ME acting in such ways to call me on it. Please do. I want you to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's shake on it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-2322739059844042857?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/2322739059844042857/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=2322739059844042857" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/2322739059844042857?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/2322739059844042857?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-standing-up.html" title="I'm Standing Up" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SsfjCT7pKoI/AAAAAAAAAOs/EegTU_GXl5A/s72-c/j0387491%5B1%5D.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8EQXk_fCp7ImA9WxNXFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-2457285568626358761</id><published>2009-10-03T14:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T16:03:20.744-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-03T16:03:20.744-05:00</app:edited><title>I Can't Stand It Anymore!</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sse796dxbqI/AAAAAAAAAOk/yXuajE2vLhY/s1600-h/zipper+mouth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 108px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 115px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388482151512632994" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sse796dxbqI/AAAAAAAAAOk/yXuajE2vLhY/s320/zipper+mouth.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, my last post was in January. Then,....... nothin'. Those who know me know that when my family has a more than a Rainey kind of day, more like a thunderstorm kind of season, then I hunker down in whatever the hailstorm is and deal with it. But, I promised I wouldn't post it, wouldn't dwell in it here, was going to keep my blog positive.... I have to break my promise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Because it's not me. I'm a "deal with it" kind of person. Whatever hits the fan, I'm dealing with it. And again, if you know me, then you know that NOT communicating is NOT my way. I don't shy away from anything painful, hurtful, difficult, because I can't live life if I don't. Keeping my blog positive just isn't logical. Life isn't positive. I don't keel over because my life isn't positive so why should my blog? My blog is an aspect of me and my life must/will go on, as will my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there, if you don't like any stuff I put in it now, don't read. I'm not being rude, negative or in your face. Just real. Real is what I'm all about. I say in my profile that I'm an advocate for my kids, brain disorders/mental illness, LIFE! What kind of advocate says nothing. Only an inefficient one, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay then! Let's move on! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-2457285568626358761?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/2457285568626358761/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=2457285568626358761" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/2457285568626358761?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/2457285568626358761?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-cant-stand-it-anymore.html" title="I Can't Stand It Anymore!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Sse796dxbqI/AAAAAAAAAOk/yXuajE2vLhY/s72-c/zipper+mouth.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQHSXoyfCp7ImA9WxVSGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-502053345971818891</id><published>2009-01-12T10:02:00.022-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T21:45:38.494-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-12T21:45:38.494-06:00</app:edited><title>.....And Now, For Your Stop Light Entertainment.....</title><content type="html">Okay, Kellee, this is for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day some friends and I were talking about my blog. Someone else overheard us, asked me what a blog was and I told him it was kind of like an Internet 'diary', where I write random thoughts, stories, adventures and opinions to whomever wants to see them. We laughed about how a person's blog posting hopefully is not going to be as private as a diary entry, but that got me thinking......What would be something that I could divulge to anyone who happens to land on "A Rainey Kind of Day" that is not necessarily my usual type of posting but not too embarrassing? I came up with this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every one who knows me well knows that there are a few things I do EVERY day, other than what every person does daily. They are, in no particular order, drink strong coffee, drive great distances with at least 1 moody person in the back seat, pick lots of yellow dog hair off of my clothes, make sure EVERYONE in our house takes ALL of their medications!!!!!!, sit still for 30 seconds and think "OMG - this is my life", tell Astro to get out of the garbage, pray to God to get through the next hour, thank God for getting me through the last hour, wipe Astro's muddy paws even though the other 2 dogs are perfectly clean, tell Astro it's a darn good thing he's so cute, dance and sing. Today I'm going to focus on the last 2- dancing and singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to sing. I sing every day, to every song I hear (except rap - me and rap - they don't jive, man). See what I mean. I don't even have the lingo down correctly. Anyways, I don't think I'm capable of just listening to a song. I HAVE to sing it. Even if I don't know it. Once you've sung in choir long enough and are familiar with music you can tell pretty much tell what notes/key changes are coming up next. I love my singing and God loves my singing. My children used to love my singing when they were under the age of 10. Nothing calmed them down more than me singing to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only problem is that my voice is only a so-so kind of voice. I'm fine to sing in a big choir, and once in a while I can surprise myself and realize that I've sung something well, but for the most part, I'm just a marginal singer. Now this is hard for me to admit. Okay, okay, stop your laughing! Admit? What's to admit, you say? You've known this all along, you say? What's hard for me is that I'm used to only doing the things I do well. I'm a bit of a perfectionist, in case you haven't noticed. :) I LOVE singing so much I'm willing to lay my flaws out for everyone to hear just so I can sing. If I really got bold, I would love to take voice lessons, but I might have to take a sip of tequila (oops, not tequila - remember Sept. 1983) coconut rum to sing by myself in front of a voice teacher. Only my husband and children have to listen to me sing because they love me and wouldn't be able to find anything in the pantry, have matching socks, know where the stamps are, or when it's time to go to the dentist without me. If they don't let me sing, I walk! I mean it!!! I pretend I don't see the eye rolling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've confessed the singing part to you, well most of it, but as you can imagine, along with singing comes dancing. My passion for dancing is just about as strong as it is for singing. You can't have 1 without the other in my book. That's why I love the Joyful Noise choir. I get to sing AND dance with a bunch of little ones who don't complain about my lack of talent and the other leaders don't say anything because they are my friends and wouldn't hurt my feelings. It's the best of both worlds. The other place where I do most of my singing and dancing is in my car. Yup, in the car. I carry a large variety of music with me, everything from Alan Jackson to Enya, Aerosmith to Josh Groban, Phil Collins to Christian music, classical to Buddy Holly to Andrew Lloyd Webber music. Right now, I'm on a movie soundtrack kick. I go back and forth between Mamma Mia, Hairspray and Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat (we have the video production w/ Donny Osmand as Joseph). You tell me how I'm supposed to sing these songs without dancing!!! Yea, uh huh, just try it yourself and see if you're successful. You really can do a fair amount of moving around as you drive and still be safe. Obviously I don't move my feet, but you can move your shoulders, hips and hiney, make hand gestures (not the rude kind - the ones that go along with the ones from the movie, you silly willys) and of course the head and neck. Remember, I am half Egyptian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SWuUtXv9sGI/AAAAAAAAAOM/vlpB1-I0dvg/s1600-h/2125a%5B1%5D.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290494090961506818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 139px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 143px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SWucWHIQUgI/AAAAAAAAAOU/DvzZgvStrQg/s320/egyptian854.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, while you drive down the road and see other drivers talking on their cell phones, eating, putting on makeup, picking their noses (only men do this, because women know that people can &lt;strong&gt;still see you&lt;/strong&gt;), shaving, etc... you can find me belting out "Good Morning Baltimore" or "I Can Hear the Bells" from Hairspray and doing as many of the motions as I can (and still be safe!). When I get to a stop light, baby watch out 'cause there are no holds barred. I'm performing full force and I don't care who's watching. I could totally see myself on some stage somewhere. Maybe not Broadway. Maybe not even Tomball Theatre but hey, in my head, I'm awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this is my sad but true diary/blog confession. Now you know the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Sadly, God did not bless me with the talent that I think I'm supposed to have, but the older I get, the less I care what others think. My friends and family love me for who I am, I can laugh at my self and as for the rest of 'em..........well, I'll have to save those words for my real diary! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-502053345971818891?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/502053345971818891/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=502053345971818891" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/502053345971818891?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/502053345971818891?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-now-for-your-stop-light.html" title=".....And Now, For Your Stop Light Entertainment....." /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SWucWHIQUgI/AAAAAAAAAOU/DvzZgvStrQg/s72-c/egyptian854.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8FQHY5fCp7ImA9WxVSEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-1209044614942418565</id><published>2009-01-04T17:18:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T18:03:31.824-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-04T18:03:31.824-06:00</app:edited><title>Beth, the Plagiarizer - I Should be Ashamed, but I'm Not!</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I don't have to think of a clever post today. My friend, Hilary, did it for me in her post titled "I Get Knocked Down .....". ! &lt;a href="http://twozsmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-get-knocked-down-but-i-get-up-again.html"&gt;Click here&lt;/a&gt; and you'll understand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Go ahead, I'll wait!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;She wrote exactly how I think and feel, and she got a video embedded in probably 1/4 of the time it takes me to do it. This explains why she's one of my best friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Hey, I remember that Chumbawumba video......I was probably living in Austin, had even bigger hair than I have now, wearing lots of eyeshadow and mascara (big in the '80's), leggings (it's okay, I was much thinner) and flats. If it was my freshman year, I was probably drinking and then throwing up somewhere. Hey, I threw up in some of the best places Austin had to offer. That's what happens when you don't drink in high school and you don't know about Everclear, or Long Island Iced Teas or mixing the two on the same night. I can't drink margaritas to this very day because of a baaaaaad night in Sept. 1983. That's the first and last time I EVER had tequila. If I even get the slightest of whiffs of tequila I'm instantly transported back to The Castillian dorm, 14th floor (I think). Ugh, I think my stomach just did a flip flop just typing about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Okay, ......... how did I get from our woes of 2008 to my tequila adventure of 1983. That's what happens to you when you're under stress and you've had a year like Hilary's and mine. Oh my goodness, I'm in sad shape. Pass the Tums, please. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-1209044614942418565?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/1209044614942418565/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=1209044614942418565" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/1209044614942418565?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/1209044614942418565?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/01/beth-plagiarizer-i-should-be-ashamed.html" title="Beth, the Plagiarizer - I Should be Ashamed, but I'm Not!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUCQ3o-fSp7ImA9WxVSEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-670957117900895489</id><published>2009-01-01T16:54:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T18:11:02.455-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-04T18:11:02.455-06:00</app:edited><title>Bye Bye 2008! Glad to See You Go!</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Happy New Year! The Raineys started out 2009 just the way we hope the year goes ...... peaceful, relaxed and happy. Rick and I slept in while the kids were entertaining themselves with their Christmas goodies (I can't say 'toys' anymore). Rick made a great breakfast and coffee and we puttered around with no real agenda. It was great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Josh's favorite gift was &lt;em&gt;Guitar Hero&lt;/em&gt; for his Wii system. He's really good on the guitar and now the drums, although I can only do the guitar so far. Today we broke out the microphone. So, while Josh was the drummer I tried my hand at being the lead singer. Rick was our audience and I guess I must have done a pretty good job because Rick took off his shirt, flung it over his head and then threw it at me. Wow, having a groupie is a mighty awesome thing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;A miracle occurred and we can now see the floor in Lauren's room. She's working very hard and is just about finished. Oh my, it's been 9 months in the making (or should I say 'messing') so I'm impressed that she did it in 1 week. Hey, when Lauren sets her mind to something, it's going to get done and you better just get out of the way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;We've had a great Christmas, filled with down time and busy time; being at home and visiting; being on our own and being surrounded by friends and family. Most of all it was a chance for us to regroup as a family of 4, settle our minds and bodies and remind ourselves of what is REALLY important to us in life. Now our goal is to make 2009 the best we can, regardless of the circumstances. Lord knows we all get thrown curve balls but it's how well we catch them that really matters. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The song that our children's choir will sing in January is called "Trust in the Lord" and it's one of my favorites. My family, in their kind way of laughing at my Kindergarten ways, chuckles at me when I practice my Joyful Noise songs because I'm doing the choreography (shout out to you, Hilary) as I sing and, of course, I have to put a lot of expression into my voice and motions to convey that to the kids. The song is based on my favorite scripture, although I'm far from a scripture quoting person. These words just seem to sum up what's happened to me, to our family, and I choose to have faith and trust in God, knowing that He has a plan. I don't know what those plans are (they look like stinky curve balls to me!) but He knows better and I will know why eventually. I really do trust in the Lord and will continue to in 2009. Will you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths" (Proverbs 3:5-6) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-670957117900895489?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/670957117900895489/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=670957117900895489" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/670957117900895489?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/670957117900895489?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2009/01/bye-bye-2008-glad-to-see-you-go.html" title="Bye Bye 2008! Glad to See You Go!" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04NQXs5fyp7ImA9WxRaFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-5476949834276739272</id><published>2008-12-17T15:27:00.018-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T18:59:50.527-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-17T18:59:50.527-06:00</app:edited><title>Have You Ever Vacuumed Concrete?</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, last night I found myself in a cleaning mood. Yea, I don't know what happened to me. I must be coming down with something. So, I started to vacuum and made my way towards our dining room. In I go, and as I was half way finished I started thinking about the fact that I was vacuuming concrete? Why, you might ask? Well, one of our precious pets decided that our dining room carpet was a lovely place to have a potty break when she had been inside too long, before we came home to let her out. That, over time, spells (or should I say 'smells') yuck. So, one Sunday afternoon I went to children's choir practice. When I came home, Rick had torn out the carpet and padding in sheer frustration. Hence, the concrete floor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The only problem with that is he tore it out over a year ago. Yup, and with no plan or savings towards a new floor in mind. With 2 kids in private school, one of which is therapeutic, there's not a lot of extra cash floating around here these days. Every time we seem to have money saved up for the flooring here comes a car repair bill, a big dentist bill or a vet bill for a sick, stray black kitten that just happened to wander into our yard, I swear!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, we have a concrete floor and tell ourselves that our friends and family will still love us even if we have a concrete floor, right by the front door, next to our nice foyer, for every one to see as they walk into our home! Yea, uh huh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This past week I was at my friend Cindy's house. She and her hubby, Andy, have their own business, work from their home and are raising 2 little kids. They just bought a gorgeous sectional couch that is so comfy to sit on. The only problem is their family room isn't big enough to hold it so it's split, with one half on each side of the room. They will only be in their current house for a little while longer and so the sectional will fit in their new home. In fact, they have a few other things in the house that they want to keep for their new place but it's packed into this one for now. Plus, Cindy LOVES to sell things on Craig's List so she has her old sofa and chair still in the house to keep safe until she sells it online. I couldn't help but laugh out loud as we worked around couches and boxes while fixing lunch and chuckle about how different our lives are than what I thought grown up life would be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Go back to the spring of 1987 in Austin, TX. Cindy and I are students at UT and in her apartment. We're sitting on the couch that she is now trying to sell on Craig's List (it's real suede and in great shape!). Cindy and Andy are getting married in June of '87 and I know that Rick is going to ask me to marry him some time soon (he did on New Year's Eve of '87). We think we're pretty grown up, for the most part, and fairly mature. We read Bride magazine, Cindy paints her beautiful long nails, I learn new ways to put on eye shadow and we talk about our wonderful guys. We have visions of houses and dream careers, living near a park and meeting there as we raise our babies in family bliss. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now, here we are 21 years later - I'm vacuuming tumbleweeds of dog hair off of my concrete floor just before I run out the door to pick up my children from their therapeutic school that we can't afford to drive into Houston rush hour traffic to get to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (mine or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;their's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) psychologist appointment while Cindy cooks a meal, while walking around a couch in her kitchen, answering her cell phone from women in tube tops that shouldn't be wearing tube tops (I'll explain in a minute), checking her computer to see if a potential tenant has any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;felonies&lt;/span&gt;, helping 1 child with her homework while listening to her 4 year old having a fit because she won't let him go into the garage and see all of his Christmas presents! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;How does that song go .....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b452d19393d2cedc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;
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&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Okay, I promised I'd explain the women in tube tops. Cindy and Andy are in the rehab (construction, not detox) and real estate business. They own homes and apartments in Houston, as well as some apartments in Galveston. People still trying to recover from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hurricane&lt;/span&gt; Ike are looking to rent the ones in Galveston, with help from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;FEMA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Some of these people, according to Cindy, do happen to fall into the butt crack, tube top wearing, missing some teeth category and I heard some interesting stories the other day. I told 'ya, I wanna be a Toys R Us Kid. I bet some days Rick, Cindy and Andy do too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-5476949834276739272?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="enclosure" type="video/mp4" href="http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=b452d19393d2cedc&amp;type=video%2Fmp4" length="0" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/5476949834276739272/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=5476949834276739272" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/5476949834276739272?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/5476949834276739272?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2008/12/have-you-ever-vacuumed-concrete.html" title="Have You Ever Vacuumed Concrete?" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYDRHY7eSp7ImA9WxRaFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359344010946321954.post-1628013550960678659</id><published>2008-12-16T10:15:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T20:26:15.801-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-17T20:26:15.801-06:00</app:edited><title>A Christmas Questionnaire</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm borrowing this idea from Beth Moore's LPM website! Here we go...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;1. Fresh or Fake Tree: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Well, we always had a fresh tree growning up, but then when Rick and I had our own tree we got an artificial one. It bit the dust a while back and so for the last 3-4 years we've had a real tree and I'm so glad we're back to the real thing, baby! Real is always better than fake!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;2. Favorite Ornament: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Oooooo, there are so many cute ones the kids have made. I guess the ones that the kids made out of their handprints when they were in Mother's Day Out at our church are my favorite. I can't believe they were ever that tiny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3. Favorite Christmas Song: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;That's an easy one. Actually, it's not a song, it's a whole album to be exact. Yes, I said ALBUM and it looks like this....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280426191736699218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 147px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SUfXpP0ieVI/AAAAAAAAANs/OatXGP0fdfU/s320/Mathis+record.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;I don't think I'm capable of putting up a Christmas tree and decorating it without this music playing. Seriously!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;4. Favorite Tradition: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Susie and I always got new nightgowns on Christmas Eve and I do that with my kids too. When we get home from Christmas Eve service, the kids then get on their new jammies. Josh even goes along with it as long as I find him cool looking pajamas. After that, they each get to open 1 and only 1 present! Then, we all cuddle up on the couch and read &lt;em&gt;The Night Before Christmas&lt;/em&gt;. I think we'll start a new tradition this year of reading the story of Jesus' birth from the Bible, as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5. Favorite Gift Ever Received: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You know, I can't really remember. I know I've gotten some wonderful things in my life but the things I remember are the gifts I've given. The Christmas of 2003, when Lauren was 20 mths old was so special because she was really into everything she got. She loved her cozy coop car, her Little Tyke's kitchen and immediately started cooking for her new baby doll. I loved hiding bikes in the Bivens' garage (our neighbors) until Christmas Eve and then seeing Josh fly down the street in bare feet and his pajamas. Those are my favorite gifts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;6. Favorite Christmas Meal: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Turkey, mashed potatoes, rutabagas, stuffing made with roasted chestnuts, some type of green veggie (for a variety of color on the plate, you know), gravy, cranberries, etc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;7. Favorite Christmas Cookie: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;We used to make all kinds of cookies with my mom when we were little, like shortbread, chocolate macaroons, 2 different kinds of Egyptian cookies from my father's family recipes (I can't spell either of them - one sounds like the noise you make when you throw up; the other one sounds phonetically like 'co-nah-fah') and rumballs. We would roll them in different coatings like red or green colored sugar, coconut or ground nuts. Now that I'm an adult and have the recipe for rumballs I know why my mom didn't let us eat too many of those RUMballs!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;8. Favorite Place to Be: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Wow, that's a hard one for me right now. This will be the first Christmas that will just be me, Rick and the kids. To me, holidays are all about having massive amounts of family coming and going and people sleeping everywhere. As a kid it was a blast and I loved every minute of it. But, times change, people move and things happen. So, we'll have our own time with our own traditions and maybe this year we'll be less frantic and more into what Christmas is really about - the birth of Jesus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;9. Favorite Memory: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ummmm, too many to list. Of course, there are lots from when I was little, like when we had so many family members at our house I had to sleep with my parents and I kept them up all night because I heard Santa and his reindeer on the roof. Really, I did!! Then, another year, Susie and I were thrilled because we both got the Chrissy dolls we wanted - you know, that doll that was as big as me and when you pulled on her short pony tail her hair grew long and then when you pushed her belly button her hair sucked back into her head again. Then, fast forward about 25-30 years and you have the joy of watching toddlers Lauren and Josh opening presents, having wrapping paper stick to their faces because of all of the candy canes they were eating, all while they were yelling about what Santa brought them. To those of you who have known us for a long time- remember when Josh was little and whenever he talked with enthusiasm this vein bulged out of his neck!! Can't you just picture him saying "How did Santa know I wanted Thomas the Train and Percy and Sir Topham Hat!" in that hoarse little voice and that big blue vein! What a sight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;10. Favorite Christmas Movie: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Christmas was when The Sound of Music would come on TV and I still love that movie to this day. I think I can still sing the words to every song, and maybe even a few of the motions or two. I totally embarrass Lauren and Josh when I do this, even in our own home. I love all of the claymation movies like Frosty the Snowman, and Rudolph (with Mr. Heat Miser &amp;amp; Mr. Snow Miser) - Remember this...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-7c9eb4733dc7c2a5" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;
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&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000000;"&gt;and don't forget Santa Claus is Coming to Town or Little Drummer Boy. However, my favorite is The Grinch. I love the dog, especially when the Grinch puts the antlers on him and he teeters over until the Grinch saws off most of the antlers. Too cute! I first saw it on TV when I was in the hospital after just getting my tonsils out. Back then it only came on once a year and if you missed it, oh well, too bad, so sad! Ahhhh, these youngin's have noooo idea how good they have it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;So, email me your answers to this questionnaire so I can take a peek into your holiday traditions. I wish each and every one of you a very Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year. Take care!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5359344010946321954-1628013550960678659?l=raineykindofday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="enclosure" type="video/mp4" href="http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=7c9eb4733dc7c2a5&amp;type=video%2Fmp4" length="0" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/feeds/1628013550960678659/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5359344010946321954&amp;postID=1628013550960678659" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/1628013550960678659?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5359344010946321954/posts/default/1628013550960678659?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://raineykindofday.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-questionnaire.html" title="A Christmas Questionnaire" /><author><name>Beth Rainey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00744065163619799560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/Ss96_VCmmkI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/hOuuYDxzLec/S220/008.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVA1w0GKKt0/SUfXpP0ieVI/AAAAAAAAANs/OatXGP0fdfU/s72-c/Mathis+record.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>

