tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54378443637726095572012-02-01T14:08:32.164-05:00A blog about my life as a Stay-At-Home Mom, and other aspects of it. As well as my thoughts/feelings on different subjects.Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.comBlogger348125Thenot-alwaysHappyHomemakerDiaryhttp://feedburner.google.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-25529332932032106082012-02-01T14:07:00.001-05:002012-02-01T14:08:32.171-05:002012-02-01T14:08:32.171-05:00

I have moved over to WORDPRESS! Find me over HERE.

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2012/02/read-me-very-important.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-69061986523149165822012-01-27T12:34:00.000-05:002012-01-27T12:34:50.853-05:002012-01-27T12:34:50.853-05:00

I have been blogging for at least the last three years. Maybe even more than that. But I'm not one for keeping count. Over these last few years, I have discovered some really neat blogs, and wonderfully crafted Bloggers. Some armature. Some went "pro". And some fall right in between the middle. I've followed or read ALL kinds of topics from bloggers. From being a stay-home-parent, all the way

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com3http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2012/01/bloggers-i-love-discovered-want-to-get.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-40075262153123851112012-01-20T08:50:00.001-05:002012-01-20T10:05:53.306-05:002012-01-20T10:05:53.306-05:00

So, are you a lover of the scaly, croaking, or slithering kind? If so, then there's a place for you to come talk about them. Especially if you are an owner/parent, a product representative for reptiles/amphibians/snakes, or a breeder (private or for retail). At Lizard Lovers, we love to talk about our pets or our business. We also post pictures, ask for support about various things that may be

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2012/01/reptiles-amphibians-and-snakes-oh-my.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-96586570499385562012-01-13T11:44:00.001-05:002012-01-13T11:54:40.492-05:002012-01-13T11:54:40.492-05:00

Today is D-Day for millions of us. For years we have had been stereotyped as "lazy", "bon-bon eaters", "ass sitters". When in reality, we were only escaping reality for an hour Monday through Friday. To join families that were, while imaginary, still like us in so many ways. And they tackled some of the very same problems that happen in everyday life. After today, they will no longer be joining

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com2http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-gonna-cry-and-im-not-ashamed.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-68527122982351725472011-12-28T13:52:00.001-05:002011-12-28T14:18:10.476-05:002011-12-28T14:18:10.476-05:00

In 1989, my mother had a massive stroke. Amazingly, it didn't kill her right then and there. Nor did the hours-long lack of treatment (it struck overnight as my dad and I slept). That was on October 1st, 1989, when my father had found my mother in her favorite chair, not able to speak, barely could hear, and was blind in one eye. Also, her entire right side was paralyzed. For 28 days, my mother

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com3http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/12/for-my-dear-sister-friend-angel.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-38173383326071300342011-12-14T17:44:00.000-05:002011-12-14T17:44:45.257-05:002011-12-14T17:44:45.257-05:00

I get no (monetary) pay. I get no medical benefits. I get no "vacation pay" or "Holiday pay". I have been "promoted", though since the beginning of the year. I'm a Volunteer! And I am also the Assistant Volunteer Coordinator for my children's Elementary School. And I love EVERY single moment of it. Even though it can be tiring, and at times, overwhelming. Take this past week. We have held a "

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-love-my-so-called-job.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-41422471204353964402011-12-08T21:17:00.000-05:002011-12-08T21:17:37.023-05:002011-12-08T21:17:37.023-05:00

Well, it is officially CHRISTMAS in my house. Just take a look through these pictures, and you will see just what I mean.

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com1http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/12/its-beginning-to-look-lot-like.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-4300209005890733292011-12-06T20:26:00.000-05:002011-12-06T20:26:27.487-05:002011-12-06T20:26:27.487-05:00

I didn't always see myself as "pretty". In honestly any sense of the word. I was your average American tomboy girl. I loved being barefoot, in jeans or shorts and a comfy shirt. I hated dresses and makeup. In fact, I rarely, if ever wear either of the latter to this day. And I'm about to turn thirty-five. As a teen, I had your basic teen acne. Or so I'd thought. I had some pretty icky breakouts

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com1http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/12/putting-my-worst-face-foward.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-67394175898238757542011-12-03T10:34:00.000-05:002011-12-03T10:34:53.961-05:002011-12-03T10:34:53.961-05:00

How did he do that? By having me shop around. Online. I have officially fallen head over heels in LOVE with online shopping. And now also add bidding on Ebay, too! God almighty, he may have caused an addiction to start. Especially where Ebay's concerned. Some of the "Buy Now" prices just blow my mind. Books for only ninety-nine CENTS? Ka-pow, baby! And I have noticed with the major brand,

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-husbands-created-monster.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-56380128969104016682011-12-02T10:44:00.001-05:002011-12-02T10:55:28.331-05:002011-12-02T10:55:28.331-05:00

Well, it's been a good while since I have jumped on the band wagon. But now is certainly the time. So, I'm joining Christy and Angel in letting off some steam. It's Friday. So that means it's.. Fawk you Walmart Online Shopping! I love you, but right now I don't like you very much. Why? Because when I had placed my order, it said that BOTH the comforter and the bed sheet set were in for me to

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com3http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/12/fuf-with-angel-and-christy.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-39802298142174807172011-11-30T09:44:00.006-05:002011-11-30T10:03:45.875-05:002011-11-30T10:03:45.875-05:00

WARNING!!! The video below contains graphic scenes, primarily of violence and may be disturbing to some viewers. Discretion is advised! Last night, I had my husband watch this very scene from the show. It was then, as I once again was crying that he had asked me a very point-blank question. One that hit to the very core of me. "If it were one of our kids, could you pull the trigger?"... WOW!

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/walking-dead-humanized-version-and.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-39685125147878832092011-11-29T14:43:00.001-05:002011-11-29T19:09:46.095-05:002011-11-29T19:09:46.095-05:00

But you don't know where to go or where to start? First of all, decide if you wish to make a monetary donation, item (food, clothing or toys and books) donation, or donate some of your free time (like in a Soup Kitchen). Once you have decided which way (or ways) to go, then figure out your ending budget (as to stay within your means of monetary comfort level). After you do steps one and two,

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/so-you-wish-to-help-those-in-need.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-84763584831956041192011-11-27T14:54:00.000-05:002011-11-27T14:54:12.343-05:002011-11-27T14:54:12.343-05:00

Originally, I had posted the following on my FaceBook page as a "Note". But I think it needs to really go further than just to my friends on my "Friends List". Let's just say that I am tired of seeing people lump everyone in to one huge category when it comes to having the "Christmas Shoppers spirit" and are then viewed as materialistic assholes who don't give a rat's ass about their fellow man,

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/christmas-shopping-being-greedy.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-63940746843733162742011-11-26T22:24:00.001-05:002011-11-26T22:48:05.079-05:002011-11-26T22:48:05.079-05:00

Now you are probably sitting here, reading that title and wondering, "what in the world is this chick talking about with this wacky riddle?!". On November 18th, my oldest of the three kids had turned twelve years old. Yes, she is one more year closer to the dreaded tag known as "teenager". All in all though, with her maturity level (both mentally, as well as physically) she is more like a

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com1http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/time-has-passed-its-almost-time-again.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-27417706176845392092011-11-25T09:15:00.000-05:002011-11-25T09:15:34.139-05:002011-11-25T09:15:34.139-05:00

Well, this has certainly ended up to be a busy, somewhat fun-filled week. First, my eye appointment, which thankfully went well. No more abscess or infection. Bonus? No more visits for another three months. But also, it was a bit of a frustrating day. Why? Because at the previous week's appointment with my son's Psychiatrist, I had scheduled a home visit with his Case Manager to discuss

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/thanksgiving-black-friday-tattling.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-22950499592425966722011-11-23T15:25:00.000-05:002011-11-23T15:25:34.330-05:002011-11-23T15:25:34.330-05:00

Well, I had yet another checkup for the eye's cornea graft, where the last stitch that was still sewn in to the cornea had popped loose and went in to an infection. After battling the infection, and in turn, an abscess that was right at the top edge of my transplant and the sclera (white portion of the eye), I am VERY happy to report that all of the medications had done their job, and the

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/grafted-life-update-2.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-66992080975309365282011-11-15T09:07:00.000-05:002011-11-15T09:07:13.328-05:002011-11-15T09:07:13.328-05:00

Okay, first of all, thus far, it seems it is NOT rejecting. But it was getting infected, and in turn THAT could have started a graft rejection, if I waited another day or so. But I did have the BEGINNINGS of an infection, thanks to a stitch that had popped loose from the graft. So, the doctor I had to see on Triage/emergency basis removed it just with the tweezers. I asked and SHE (who is a

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com4http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/cornea-transplant-update.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-14793210325959586452011-11-11T10:29:00.001-05:002011-11-11T10:30:45.745-05:002011-11-11T10:30:45.745-05:00

Yeah, I feel like having a pity party. If you want to join in the "fun", be my guest. But if you feel like telling me I should be thankful and that I should feel blessed or lucky, then go the fuck on to some other page, because honestly, I'm in no mood to hear it. For one thing, I DO count myself as being lucky AND blessed. I have been given a wonderful gift from someone I'll never have the

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com5http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/if-its-not-one-thing-its-another.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-66602753440344001812011-11-10T15:53:00.000-05:002011-11-10T15:53:22.471-05:002011-11-10T15:53:22.471-05:00

First off, I'd like to congratulate my oldest daughter for making it in to her school's Book Club. They already have their first book to read and will be meeting after school once a week to discuss the stories and whatnot. She had to get at least 25 AR (Accelerated Reading) points. She made it just past the minimum amount. Now, onward to the Good Reads group. I had initially made a "book club"

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com0http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/update-on-good-reads-group.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-89907226308641164592011-11-08T10:43:00.002-05:002011-11-08T10:48:11.273-05:002011-11-08T10:48:11.273-05:00

It's been a while since I hopped on here and had written. Not a whole lot in life around here has changed too much. So, there really isn't anything to whine, nag, or get angry about. For the time being, that is. So, instead, I have decided to use my blog as an advertising tool. Namely for myself. Because it's MY blog and MY plug. (= First of all, I have ALWAYS loved to read. Books are my BFFs.

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com1http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/11/good-reads-equals-good-times.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-47177703373366610932011-10-10T09:42:00.000-04:002011-10-10T09:42:55.644-04:002011-10-10T09:42:55.644-04:00

Leaves are turning to vibrant and almost magical-like colors. Hues of orange, yellow and red are all popping up around on the hill and mountainsides of the Appalachians. I love Autumn here in Virginia. It's also time to break out hand-me-down costumes, or purchase new ones for the kids that have outgrown them all. And not to mention, buying the goodies that you will be passing out to the little

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com5http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/10/its-that-time-again.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-80398439443006591102011-09-03T08:33:00.002-04:002011-09-03T09:34:01.917-04:002011-09-03T09:34:01.917-04:00

I'm pretty certain that those of you reading this, have a FaceBook page. And I'll bet you two to one, that at least once, within your News Feed, you have seen the now infamous "cravings game". The status goes like this... ""I'm _weeks and craving _" It is inboxed to LADIES ONLY on FaceBook, and specifically in the email, like the bra and purse games, you are not to NOT tell the men about it,

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com6http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/09/pregnancy-game-statuses-on-facebook.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-44553816190590661072011-08-19T08:31:00.000-04:002011-08-19T08:31:50.346-04:002011-08-19T08:31:50.346-04:00

I'm eight years old, and it is officially the first day of school. I'm off to First Grade in Mrs. Bartley's class. I'm all ready to go in my white, ruffle-neck dress shirt, my purple overalls with the yellow tulip on the front, and my pigtails upon my head. Being it's no more than a seven-minute walk to school, and back then, my area was pretty darn safe, my parents started out on the journey to

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com1http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/08/memories-of-past-memories-in-making.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437844363772609557.post-74588210139992161992011-08-11T22:09:00.000-04:002011-08-11T22:09:57.445-04:002011-08-11T22:09:57.445-04:00

I act happy. But I'm not. I sound excited. But I'm not. I say that I'm ready to. But I'm not. I say that it's indeed time. But for me, it's not. The tears I try to choke back and hide lay beneath the surface. Like a raging water fall. It feels like the first time all over again. In what seems like the not-too-distant past. She is growing up. I can't stop it. She is maturing. I can't stop it

Missyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03869310477100385515noreply@blogger.com1http://pr0udmom0f3.blogspot.com/2011/08/im-not-i-cant.html