<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470</id><updated>2026-10-17T19:54:29.703-04:00</updated><category term="TST"/><category term="random thoughts"/><category term="Great Kid"/><category term="T2T"/><category term="Dance"/><category term="husband"/><category term="prayer requests"/><category term="weight loss"/><category term="Thursday 5"/><category term="Domestic Violence"/><category term="TYVM"/><category term="Vacation"/><category term="my story"/><category term="Blog Awards"/><category term="Books"/><category term="LOI"/><category term="giveaway"/><category term="good wife"/><category term="Fly Lady"/><category term="Honey"/><category term="Me and God"/><category term="Miscellany Monday"/><category term="Movies"/><category term="family"/><category term="30 Day Blog Challenge"/><category term="Celeste"/><category term="Christmas"/><category term="Day Dreams"/><category term="Eat it Work it Blog it"/><category term="Grandma"/><category term="I&#39;m Just Sayin&#39;"/><category term="Politics"/><category term="Snow"/><category term="We want to know..."/><category term="back to school"/><category term="i heart faces"/><category term="recipes"/><category term="singing"/><title type='text'>The Simple Life</title><subtitle type='html'>Please leave a comment so that I know you came by!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>148</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-4909097614102950231</id><published>2017-10-19T15:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2017-10-19T15:19:04.376-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow- It&#39;s a new day!</title><content type='html'>This is the first time I&#39;ve been back to blogger since the last post dated September 2012, so let me give you an update. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I did go back to school that August, my husband worked for a plumbing company AND did side work at night and all weekend so that I could keep being a full time student. &amp;nbsp;He didn&#39;t let me down, he made it work. &amp;nbsp;I graduated nursing school in May of 2015 and I&#39;ve worked as a nurse for two years now.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
To celebrate my graduation, we went on a 7 day cruise. &amp;nbsp;We were able to take Cameron&#39;s friend with us and we had an amazing time!! &amp;nbsp; Wes quit his job and went into business for himself because he built such a customer base trying to pay my way through nursing school. &amp;nbsp;He has been in business for himself for over a year now and that is going very well!!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
My &quot;little boy&quot; graduated high school&amp;nbsp; May of 2016, and moved an hour and a half away to attend college. &amp;nbsp;He is playing baseball for a small school and he loves it! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It&#39;s really embarrassing to look at that last post and see how I was wallowing in self pity. &amp;nbsp;I am so blessed, and my life has definitely changed for the better!&amp;nbsp; I now work in a local emergency department doing what I truely believe God has chosen me to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/4909097614102950231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/4909097614102950231?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/4909097614102950231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/4909097614102950231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2017/10/wow-its-new-day.html' title='Wow- It&#39;s a new day!'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-6247366107402148003</id><published>2012-09-15T17:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-09-15T17:54:42.294-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah Blah Blah</title><content type='html'>Do you ever just feel like every time you try to do something that life happens and screws everything up?&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m so tired and frustrated right now.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m having a hard time dealing with the disappointment of it all, and I know that I&#39;m trying to see into a future through foggy glasses.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also know what has happened in the past, and the failures that I have had no matter the effort that I put in. The first time it was getting married, and being promised that I could finish school, that didn&#39;t happen.&amp;nbsp; The second time was just too much with a 2 year old, the third time every old person in my family died.&amp;nbsp; Starting with my mom&#39;s mother, then her sister, then my step mom&#39;s mother, then my dad&#39;s mom...all in the 2 years I was trying to take classes and work full time.&amp;nbsp; So I quit again, because I was exhausted.&amp;nbsp; Then when my husband got the good job, the really good paying job that made more money than we had both made together.....I decided to quit my job and go back full time until I could finish. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All I asked for was 2 years, can you do this for 2 years and let me go to school full time for just 2 years and&amp;nbsp; you work at that job for just 2 years?&amp;nbsp; Yes.&amp;nbsp; He said, yes he can do it for 2 years.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
9 months later he has quit that job, and the job after it for another job in plumbing, and not we can&#39;t pay our bills. NOW he isn&#39;t even gettine 40 hours a week, now we have no money, no savings, two piece of crap vehicles and I have no job. &amp;nbsp; So again I am at the crossroads of dropping out of school again and finding a job.&amp;nbsp; The worse part about it is that I had&amp;nbsp;a decent job, that made OK money with no benefits, but the pay was OK and I had 2 weeks vacation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now on Monday I&#39;m going to apply for a job that still has no benefits, no vacation and makes 3.00 per hour less than my last job....and it&#39;s&amp;nbsp;40 miles away!&amp;nbsp; The money is terrible, the benefits are nonexistent and I am worse off now than I was a year ago.&amp;nbsp; At least then I had an OK paying job.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I guess it&#39;s time to come to grips with the fact that I will never be more than I am, I will never have a good job, I will never own a home and I will drive this piece of shit car until I have to get another one because I can&#39;t afford to do anything else.&amp;nbsp; I will work until I die because I will never have retirement, I will never have insurance and I will always be sucking hind tit.&amp;nbsp; I will always be broke.&amp;nbsp; I will always be less than mediocre. It doesn&#39;t matter that I work hard, it doesn&#39;t matter that I try hard, it doesn&#39;t matter that I have big dreams and plans and I do the best that I can to accomplish them.&amp;nbsp; All that matters is that I don&#39;t accomplish them, that I am destined to be poor my whole life and to amount to nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think being poor is genetic.&amp;nbsp; My great grandfather had to quit school when he was 9 and work in a mill, my grandmother was the single mother of 5 children and she also worked in a mill.&amp;nbsp; She was broke until the day she died.&amp;nbsp; My mom was a single mom who always struggled.&amp;nbsp; Now here I am, struggling still.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With all of that being said, I am still on the waiting list, and just because I drop the classes that I am currently taking doesn&#39;t mean that I can&#39;t answer the call when my names comes up in August...&lt;br /&gt;
but if we can&#39;t make ends meet now without me working, how will we do it then?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/6247366107402148003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/6247366107402148003?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6247366107402148003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6247366107402148003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2012/09/blah-blah-blah.html' title='Blah Blah Blah'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-4752213515246568427</id><published>2012-07-31T15:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-07-31T15:20:48.787-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow It&#39;s been a while!</title><content type='html'>So much has happened since my last post, and I have been so busy with &quot;things&quot; that I have not posted in forever!&amp;nbsp; So just to catch up a little bit:&lt;br /&gt;
I started back to school last August getting ready to start studying nursing.&amp;nbsp; Right now I have almost finished all of my prerequisites to the program and am currently waiting to have my name called up!&amp;nbsp; Woohoo!&amp;nbsp; As soon as this summer is over (that will be on Thursday of next week) I am completely in limbo waiting to continue.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m kind of discouraged that my wait may be as long as 2 years.&amp;nbsp; :(&amp;nbsp; I cant even tell you how disgusted I am with that right now.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m having a hard time even concentrating at this point because once I&#39;m finished with this class that I have worked so hard on the last year I just go get a job and wait for 2 years. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On another note...I am about to complete a chemistry course with an A, and microbiology with a B.&amp;nbsp; That doesn&#39;t sound that impressive until you consider that I took them both over the short summer schedule with only 12 weeks of instruction.&amp;nbsp; Those 12 weeks have been packed with lab everyday and back to back tests...but I&#39;m about finished with them. Woohoo!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My mother was diagnosed with cancer in November of last year, and started her chemo right before Christmas.&amp;nbsp; She was given another clear report today and doesn&#39;t have to have tests run again for another 3 months.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My little man starts HIGH SCHOOL this year,, which I must say is sort of nerve racking!&amp;nbsp; I can&#39;t believe how old he has gotten and I cant&#39; believe that my baby is growing up so much!&amp;nbsp; I know that it wont be long until he starts bringing home girlfriends, and I&#39;m not ready for that.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Life flies by so fast that it&#39;s hard to even catch your breath and keep up.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well I will try and post a little more often now that school is slowing down a bit!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Enjoy the rest of the week~&lt;br /&gt;
Kelly</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/4752213515246568427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/4752213515246568427?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/4752213515246568427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/4752213515246568427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2012/07/wow-its-been-while.html' title='Wow It&#39;s been a while!'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-779571826284787996</id><published>2012-03-31T23:14:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-03-31T23:14:27.528-04:00</updated><title type='text'>April Fools Day</title><content type='html'>When I was a little girl I would pretend to be married. My pretend husband would be handsome and strong. He would rescue me from the bullies that I dealt with everyday when I was a kid.  Of course he would be big and strong. Not some whimp.  That was the extent of thought I put into my pretend husband.  Big strong and handsome. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here I am now, at the ripe old age if 37. And I have to say that my real prince charming is all that I expected him to be,  and so very much more. He does rescue me from the bullies, those are usually in my own mind. But mostly he is my very best friend. I tAlk with him about everything. I share with him my hopes and dreams. He supports me 100% in everything I do, and he love my son almost as much as I do. (no one but God could live him more than I do). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is no doubt that man loves me.  I am so glad that 7 years ago I promised to love him,  I did then I do now and I will forever!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Anniversary to my Prince Charming. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/779571826284787996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/779571826284787996?isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/779571826284787996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/779571826284787996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2012/03/april-fools-day.html' title='April Fools Day'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-2899416229578979180</id><published>2012-03-30T09:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-03-30T09:07:52.321-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Letters of Intent</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.myfourboys.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Foursons&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n308/juliechinni/letterbutton3-1.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear &quot;Superstar&quot; Mom:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I saw you last night talking about me at the ball field. I really don&#39;t care
though. Yes I know I&#39;m &quot;that&quot; mom.&amp;nbsp; &quot;That&quot; mom that bitches about the coaches, and bitches about baseball.&amp;nbsp;I never wanted to be &quot;that&quot; mom,  I wanted to go to the game and watch my kid play.  That is why I give up my evenings to sit a practice, that is why I pay the enrollment fee each year.  I don&#39;t like being the bitchy mom, I don&#39;t like the complaining and I don&#39;t like the way my kid feels sitting on the bench.  I don&#39;t like the way I have to work to build his confidence and coaches tear it down in one game. Honestly if my kid didn&#39;t love the game so freaking much I would have kept my money and skipped baseball all together.&amp;nbsp; I tried to get him interested in soccer but his response was &quot;then I couldn&#39;t play baseball&quot;.&amp;nbsp; He has only this season and next season of eligibility left and then he can&#39;t play anymore..what is wrong with me wanting him to get to play for his last two seasons?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I remember last year sitting with YOUR husband while he shook his head and said &quot;D can&#39;t hit the broad side of a barn...I don&#39;t know why they leave him in the top of the line up&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wonder how long you would sit and be quiet if it were your child that
was always benched no matter how he played. I wonder how quiet you would be if
your boy was the one treated like a ball gofer at practice instead of being
treated like one of the players. Right now it doesn&#39;t matter how your child
performs on the field, he can miss ball after ball that is hit or thrown to
him (he makes his share of mistakes)..and still play. He can strike out time and time again (and he does)&amp;nbsp;yet he &amp;nbsp;still gets to
play. It doesn&#39;t matter that my kid makes two good plays in his only two innings
he still sits the bench 2/3 of every single game, and it doesn&#39;t matter that he
has hit more times when he is at the plate than he strikes out he still only
gets 1 at bat at every game. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How would you feel if that were YOUR child? You wouldn&#39;t like it any more than I do. I bet you would be just as pissed off as I am, and I bet you would bitch as loud or maybe louder than I do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; So until your kid plays 1/3 of the
entire season don&#39;t look down your nose at me. I don&#39;t want my kid treated
better than your kid; I just want him treated fair.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sincerely&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;That&quot; mom..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/2899416229578979180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/2899416229578979180?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2899416229578979180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2899416229578979180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2012/03/letters-of-intent.html' title='Letters of Intent'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-2780342064933710746</id><published>2012-02-02T10:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-09-16T08:10:40.437-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Womans Choice</title><content type='html'>We as women have a choice to make.&amp;nbsp;&quot;Do I want to have a baby?&quot;&amp;nbsp; That is a huge decision, and one that should not be taken lightly.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
Babies are a huge responsibility.&amp;nbsp; They are yours for the rest of their life, or yours which ever comes first.&amp;nbsp; They are so completely helpless and need you to do everything for them.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s the hardest job you will ever take...if you choose to have a baby.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;That choice doesn&#39;t happen after conception.&amp;nbsp; That choice starts way before conception.&amp;nbsp; The first choice is birth control.&amp;nbsp; There are so many different forms of birth control, each with their own side effects and success rates.&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t know them all but I will list the ones that come into my mind first:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;1. The PILL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;2. The Shot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;3. The Implant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;4. The NuvaRing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;5. The Sponge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;6. The Diaphragm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
7. The Condom&lt;br /&gt;
8. The Foam&lt;br /&gt;
That is just off the top of my head.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m sure there are more, I just don&#39;t know about them.&amp;nbsp; Now I know you are thinking that these are not 100%.&amp;nbsp; You are right, but if you combine two of them you are covered pretty well.&amp;nbsp; The Pill and the Foam, the Foam and the Comdom, the Diaphram and the condom...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That is the first step in planned parenthood, birth control.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The second step in planned parenthood is during &quot;the heat of the moment&quot; you make a CHOICE to lie down with that man, you make a CHOICE to share your body with him.&amp;nbsp; It is your CHOICE to take off your clothes...you can choose not to....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
During the course of passion you choose what you are doing, you consent and you know the consequences.&amp;nbsp; So why is it that After you have made the last two choices, and you have become pregnant that NOW you want control over your body.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You could have prevented this in the beginning....but no, you didn&#39;t WANT it then..only NOW&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Abortion is not planned parenthood, it is irresponsible people continuing to be irresponsible at the expense of someone else.&amp;nbsp; The woman&#39;s, right to choose ends at the pregnancy.&amp;nbsp; I believe that unless the life of the mother or baby is at stake (or in cases of sexual assault including rape/incest) abortion should not be allowed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are right, it s your body and your choice...make it in the beginning before pregnancy happens.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/2780342064933710746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/2780342064933710746?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2780342064933710746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2780342064933710746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2012/02/womans-choice.html' title='A Womans Choice'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-6498547232757451173</id><published>2012-01-20T10:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-09-16T08:13:46.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have learned....</title><content type='html'>With the new changes in my life I decided that going back to work part time was a good idea.&amp;nbsp; For two reasons, the extra cash would be welcomed...and the experience would help once I finished school.&lt;br /&gt;
back in December I started working at an Assisted Living facility and I have learned several things in the past two months.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1.&amp;nbsp; I have learned to be thankful for my husband, and cherish the time that we have together.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s no secrete that women outlive men.&amp;nbsp; The ratio of men to women in this place is eye opening to say the least.&amp;nbsp; On more than one occasion I have overheard conversations that the women have about how very much they miss their husbands.&amp;nbsp; Their best friend, soul mate.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s heart breaking.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. I have learned that my faith (although it is very important to me now) will be what brings me through the darkest times.&amp;nbsp; Although I already have learned this lesson, working at an ALF has definitely reminded me of this.&amp;nbsp; Some people have trouble remembering which way the dining area is, or their&amp;nbsp; child&#39;s name...maybe they don&#39;t remember having children.&amp;nbsp; They NEVER forget who God is, and every night they pray for healing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. Family is sometimes not there for you in the darkest moments.&amp;nbsp; (Please notice the word sometimes).&amp;nbsp; So many people are left at places like this and the family never looks back.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s just so sad.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4.&amp;nbsp; Family is sometimes the one that fights for you like a wild animal fighting for it&#39;s own life.&amp;nbsp; (So remember to be nice to the ones that you plan to leave in charge of you when you are old)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously this has made me thankful for the life I have, the health I enjoy, the husband I have been blessed with, and the son that brings me joy on a daily basis.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/6498547232757451173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/6498547232757451173?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6498547232757451173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6498547232757451173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-have-learned.html' title='I have learned....'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-5378338922458183672</id><published>2011-12-20T09:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T09:11:49.841-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Making the change</title><content type='html'>I have definitely moved into the next step of making my change.&amp;nbsp; I quit my job back in July, I started school back in August and just finished up my first semester.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m must say that I&#39;m pretty proud of myself.&amp;nbsp; I have a B in Anatomy and Physiology...A very hard class and a B in General Psychology.&amp;nbsp; So all my studying paid off.&amp;nbsp; I am really impressed with my efforts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Part II:&amp;nbsp; I have a job working as a nursing assistant (for experience) and it is kicking my rump!&amp;nbsp; Seriously, I&#39;m exhausted..how in the world will I do this once school starts back??&amp;nbsp; What I am doing is working with Alzheimer&#39;s patients on 3rd shift.&amp;nbsp; Yes, most of them sleep at night, but I still have to get them up twice during the night to use the restroom, and lifting them is hard, staying up all night is harder.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will work it out though.&amp;nbsp; I can do anything for 2 years, 2 years..that&#39;s all.&amp;nbsp; I can do this!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Part III: I&#39;m starting my second round of classes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lets hope this round goes as well as the last!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/5378338922458183672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/5378338922458183672?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5378338922458183672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5378338922458183672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/12/making-change.html' title='Making the change'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-6851697332723972267</id><published>2011-12-08T12:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-08T12:56:52.125-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I never knew...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 1pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;sdtpr&gt;&lt;/sdtpr&gt;&lt;sdt docpart=&quot;199E0AD58A814C8FA76BB765E6EA1A39&quot; id=&quot;89512082&quot; storeitemid=&quot;X_6276F1A6-CCC4-4380-B533-A8D76B844BBE&quot; text=&quot;t&quot; title=&quot;Post Title&quot; xpath=&quot;/ns0:BlogPostInfo/ns0:PostTitle&quot;&gt;&lt;/sdt&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I never knew how much I love her…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;mso-no-proof: yes;&quot;&gt;&lt;shapetype coordsize=&quot;21600,21600&quot; filled=&quot;f&quot; id=&quot;_x0000_t75&quot; o:preferrelative=&quot;t&quot; o:spt=&quot;75&quot; path=&quot;m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe&quot; stroked=&quot;f&quot;&gt;&lt;stroke joinstyle=&quot;miter&quot;&gt;&lt;/stroke&gt;&lt;formulas&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;sum @0 1 0&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;sum 0 0 @1&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;prod @2 1 2&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;prod @3 21600 pixelWidth&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;prod @3 21600 pixelHeight&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;sum @0 0 1&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;prod @6 1 2&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;prod @7 21600 pixelWidth&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;sum @8 21600 0&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;prod @7 21600 pixelHeight&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;f eqn=&quot;sum @10 21600 0&quot;&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/formulas&gt;&lt;path gradientshapeok=&quot;t&quot; o:connecttype=&quot;rect&quot; o:extrusionok=&quot;f&quot;&gt;&lt;/path&gt;&lt;lock aspectratio=&quot;t&quot; v:ext=&quot;edit&quot;&gt;&lt;/lock&gt;&lt;/shapetype&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpjbyRfaVf0-21Y8fE3rUgJrK8o_onCKCjW7BAjafvQo7kdwrpLf8a_R7-nSEmoGSET5TeHc1PWJDhqe0bY1JmP0QT-1GeDAnCZ16ZBPaY2D7I1blAW-Zox9KDD1S9IpPLR9CDh7HdiRo/s1600/Snow+Day+Feb+13+2010+018.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; mda=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpjbyRfaVf0-21Y8fE3rUgJrK8o_onCKCjW7BAjafvQo7kdwrpLf8a_R7-nSEmoGSET5TeHc1PWJDhqe0bY1JmP0QT-1GeDAnCZ16ZBPaY2D7I1blAW-Zox9KDD1S9IpPLR9CDh7HdiRo/s320/Snow+Day+Feb+13+2010+018.jpg&quot; width=&quot;213&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I didn’t know just how much I would miss her…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Until Saturday when I had to pick her up,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;She was so small, so still…so gone…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;My heart broke, not just for Cameron&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;mso-no-proof: yes;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtL0lh-80nX69HKlssiKyJmamHZcgg_FUzBO0w1MMRM6Y0lGIZoURBIbToNehQwKQmiQLenKDlbpAp9A2GtqTB-jcbaWsWkqx8-nSyLU6Fxd9_neTzVeGhmUNLEhXoIWff-fCx4rWCbB0/s1600/Indy+and+Cam+4.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; mda=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtL0lh-80nX69HKlssiKyJmamHZcgg_FUzBO0w1MMRM6Y0lGIZoURBIbToNehQwKQmiQLenKDlbpAp9A2GtqTB-jcbaWsWkqx8-nSyLU6Fxd9_neTzVeGhmUNLEhXoIWff-fCx4rWCbB0/s320/Indy+and+Cam+4.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;But for me too..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-mY9T6vj5Ab-3OVDQMTlTVFdLMlQ3fhOYjP3AQaBnq8yOO5h2sz5IWWpPccs0kqi6Y9k5bqTRcLhNNxA1CocTs8aaAVcTHb1fJGT3MIq4CCsw9WCVapQ0F1D4kVhSPK3SPGr07y7qsQ/s1600/Indy+%2526+Cam+2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; mda=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-mY9T6vj5Ab-3OVDQMTlTVFdLMlQ3fhOYjP3AQaBnq8yOO5h2sz5IWWpPccs0kqi6Y9k5bqTRcLhNNxA1CocTs8aaAVcTHb1fJGT3MIq4CCsw9WCVapQ0F1D4kVhSPK3SPGr07y7qsQ/s320/Indy+%2526+Cam+2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;213&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;Oh Indy,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I wish I could take back all those times when I was so annoyed with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I sat and cried last night when it was raining because I knew that you would be scared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I miss you sitting with me in the chair, and I miss having you at my feet during storms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I just miss having you here, with us, playing with Cameron and barking at the squirrels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I’m so sorry Indy Girl that I didn&#39;t make sure you were inside, I&#39;m sorry I didn&#39;t love on you one more time…I miss you so much… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;rest in peace&lt;span style=&quot;color: red;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: red; font-size: x-large;&quot;&gt;Indiana Rose&lt;/span&gt;.... you will never be forgotten &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/6851697332723972267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/6851697332723972267?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6851697332723972267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6851697332723972267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-never-knew.html' title='I never knew...'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpjbyRfaVf0-21Y8fE3rUgJrK8o_onCKCjW7BAjafvQo7kdwrpLf8a_R7-nSEmoGSET5TeHc1PWJDhqe0bY1JmP0QT-1GeDAnCZ16ZBPaY2D7I1blAW-Zox9KDD1S9IpPLR9CDh7HdiRo/s72-c/Snow+Day+Feb+13+2010+018.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-5439405116597745008</id><published>2011-10-30T14:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T14:57:29.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress Relief....</title><content type='html'>I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me...and I thank him for the knowledge that he gave the Dr...to give me the Valium that helps...&lt;br /&gt;
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I have not been posting lately.&amp;nbsp; the posts that you have been reading (except the pampered chef post) was written some time ago and scheduled to post.&amp;nbsp; I have been trying to read every ones posts, but even that has been just so hard to do lately.&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m probably going to close this blog out, I don&#39;t think anyone really reads it anyway.&amp;nbsp; My stress levels are so high, I feel like I&#39;m loosing my mind!&lt;br /&gt;
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For starters, it was really difficult to move.&amp;nbsp; Physically difficult, but more emotionally difficult.&amp;nbsp; I have raised my son in that house.&amp;nbsp; He was 14 weeks old when we moved in here.&amp;nbsp; A 23 year old single mother and her infant son.&amp;nbsp; A terrified woman, trying to make a new start. It was there that my baby had his first steps, words and every other first that he has ever had.&amp;nbsp; That is the place where he would disappear into the woods for hours on end and just play.&amp;nbsp; We have woods here too, but it&#39;s different.&amp;nbsp; all of our memories are at that house.&amp;nbsp; I love it here, but&amp;nbsp; miss it there.&lt;br /&gt;
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Just two weeks after the move, I quit my job.&amp;nbsp; I started school full time, thinking that I would have a weekend job as a CNA soon, to work while I was in school.&amp;nbsp; But circumstances happen and I have not taken my test yet, I&#39;m still waiting on a test date.&amp;nbsp; Now here it is almost November and I have not gone back to work yet! Money is fine...but Chrstmas is coming and there is not much extra.&lt;br /&gt;
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The first week of not working I found my self in 2 different emergency situations.&amp;nbsp; High Blood Pressure that almost lead to a stroke, and &quot;attack by horse&quot; that did lead to a broken wrist.&lt;br /&gt;
School is good, but it is hard and a lot of work, making money streatch from the first of the month to the end is hard, very hard and I stress over every red penny that comes out of the account.&amp;nbsp; From a candy bar to grocery shopping I freak out everytime we swipe that card, or pull out that dollar bill.&amp;nbsp; Now Cameron is cutting things off his Christmas list that cost over $10.00.&amp;nbsp; What kind of mother am I that I stress my kid out about spending 10 bucks?&lt;br /&gt;
As if that wasn&#39;t enough, my car broke down and I&#39;m without wheels...technically my mom has &quot;given&quot; me some wheels for now so I&#39;m not without...but still you know what I mean.&amp;nbsp; I have to look at the long run, how long can I drive her car, it&#39;s old too...what if it breaks down....&lt;br /&gt;
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And now...my mom was diagnosed with colon cancer 2 weeks ago.&amp;nbsp; Everything looks good, they are going to remove it and do the chemo, and all will be well...but it&#39;s stressful.&lt;br /&gt;
The colon cancer is when I stopped being able to breathe normal and I stopped sleeping.&amp;nbsp; I started praying about the tightness in my chest, and the lack of breathing and sleeping but it wasn&#39;t helping.&amp;nbsp;I would realize that tears were flowing but I didn&#39;t realize that I was crying.&amp;nbsp; I was tired, stressed, I couldn&#39;t eat, I couldn&#39;t sleep I was crying and not realizing it, I am stressed out....&lt;br /&gt;
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I finally went back to the Dr. on Friday and he gave me some Valium and an antidepressant.&amp;nbsp; I have not started the antidepressant yet, but I did take half a Valium for the last 2 nights, and I have slept.&amp;nbsp; Sound sleep.&amp;nbsp; The tightness has eased up, and the worrying has eased up and sleep has come.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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I feel much better, but I&#39;m still worried about my mom.&amp;nbsp; She is my best friend.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m terrified.&amp;nbsp; It doesnt&#39; matter that they said it was only one spot.&amp;nbsp; It doesnt&#39; matter that they said this is the best case scenario.&amp;nbsp; It doesn&#39;t matter that they keep saying it&#39;s going be okay.&amp;nbsp; I just need to hear &quot;we got it all&quot;...&lt;br /&gt;
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Please keep our family in your prayers.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/5439405116597745008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/5439405116597745008?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5439405116597745008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5439405116597745008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/10/stress-relief.html' title='Stress Relief....'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-3337536310384283381</id><published>2011-10-22T08:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T08:01:00.981-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Domestic Violence"/><title type='text'>Hope, Shame and Fear</title><content type='html'>Abuse isn&#39;t something that happens quick.&amp;nbsp;In the beginning&amp;nbsp;they put their best foot forward. They treat you like a queen until you fall in love. Then they do little things to kill your self confidence. Abuse is a very slow process. For me the first thing he did was make me feel like I didn&#39;t have friends. He would say things like &quot;I heard someone say that you were a snob&quot; or &quot;Don&#39;t talk to them they are two faced and talk about you when you are not there&quot; ... the first step - alienate from friends. That&#39;s exactly what he did. When I left him I didn&#39;t have a friend in the world. Or at least that&#39;s what I felt like.&lt;br /&gt;
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At my job, he would make comments like.. I wonder if the others got a raise? or I wonder if their bonus was higher. It wasn&#39;t much...just seed planting. Making me self conscience. Making me doubt myself in every aspect of my life.&lt;br /&gt;
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Once I auditioned for a commercial, a friend of mine was choreographing the dance in the commercial and asked me to come to the auditions. When I got a call back to be in the commercial he said that she just felt sorry for me. She wasn&#39;t my friend, she didn&#39;t like me, she just felt sorry for me because she knew no one else liked me either. Do you see how slowly it started? First make me doubt myself..then make me doubt my friends. Then alienate me from them completely.&lt;br /&gt;
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He would do things to embarrass me in front of what few friends I had left. Like when I had some people over for dinner I burned the potatoes. So I threw them out, and made some instant ones instead at the last minute. He called me out on the potatoes and criticized the food in front of everyone. I wanted to crawl under a rock. Everyone kept saying how good it was..when they left he said that they were all lying. He heard them say it was nasty, they just didn&#39;t want to hurt my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;
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I have learned through the years that abusers know what they are doing.&amp;nbsp; They are jealous of you, your friends, your support.&amp;nbsp; Have you heard the saying &quot;misery loves company&quot; it is true.&amp;nbsp; When someone tells you those things they are portraying their own demons onto you.&amp;nbsp; That is how they feel about themselves, they want to bring you down too..remember misery loves company.&amp;nbsp; So just remember,&amp;nbsp; people out there that love you, you do have friends and you can get help. You can get help for a friend.&lt;br /&gt;
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If you witness this type of behavior, it is worse at home.&amp;nbsp; If the abuser will yell at or degrade his/her spouse with&amp;nbsp; you sitting there..there is no telling what he is doing when you are not around.&amp;nbsp; Please speak out, please help them get help.&amp;nbsp; Call the number below.&amp;nbsp; Reach out, you may save a life.&lt;br /&gt;
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Please call. 1-800-799 SAFE (7233)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/3337536310384283381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/3337536310384283381?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/3337536310384283381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/3337536310384283381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/10/hope-shame-and-fear.html' title='Hope, Shame and Fear'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-1502940296200600754</id><published>2011-10-15T08:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T08:00:05.092-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Domestic Violence"/><title type='text'>What others see/don&#39;t see:</title><content type='html'>People that hear about domestic violence don&#39;t understand unless they have lived it.&amp;nbsp; The worst part for me then and even now is the women that boldly stand and say &quot;I wouldn&#39;t put up with that, I would have just left&quot;&amp;nbsp; &quot;That won&#39;t ever happen to&amp;nbsp;me&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Its easy to say that when you are not living there, in that moment.&amp;nbsp; You don&#39;t understand why people stay and you don&#39;t understand where that person is.&amp;nbsp; You don&#39;t know what you will do when you are in that situation.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s not easy as &quot;Leaving&quot; or at least that is how you feel when you are there.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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I for one was humiliated. I wanted to hide what was happening.&amp;nbsp; I didn&#39;t want people to know what he was doing to me and had done to me.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m no weakling..I stand up for myself.&amp;nbsp; The scariest part was that I cared about him.&amp;nbsp; He kept me there by threatening to kill himself.&amp;nbsp; He actually poured a handful of pills in his mouth and chased them with a glass of water.&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t know how he faked it, but I later found those pills in a the pocket of the coat he had on that night.&amp;nbsp; It was much later.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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That fear of him killing himself is part of what kept me there, with him.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s not that I loved him anymore...but I didn&#39;t want to have to live with him killing himself.&amp;nbsp; I didn&#39;t want him dead.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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The other thing was money.&amp;nbsp; I didn&#39;t have any.&amp;nbsp; He kept us broke as convicts.&amp;nbsp; I am a proud woman, I don&#39;t like failing and I don&#39;t like asking for money.&amp;nbsp; I had no money and no way to get any because I had to pay the mortgage..it was in my name...and the second mortgage..it was in my name to.&amp;nbsp; Actually the house was in my name, it was my house.&amp;nbsp; I couldn&#39;t get him to leave, and you try humiliating yourself enough to call the police..then everyone in town and all the neighbors knows what is going on.&amp;nbsp; Here is a shocker for you..they can only make him leave for the night. Yep.&amp;nbsp; Then tomorrow you got to deal with him beating your ass!!!&amp;nbsp; So is that really worth it?&lt;br /&gt;
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If you know someone in that situation don&#39;t make the humilation worse.&amp;nbsp; Stand by them, encourage them, show them the way out.&amp;nbsp; Dont be judgemental.&amp;nbsp; You don&#39;t know. You don&#39;t know what you would do. You don&#39;t know how it feels.&amp;nbsp; Humilation keeps them their longer...&lt;br /&gt;
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If you are in a violent relationship don&#39;t stay.&amp;nbsp; Leave.&amp;nbsp; There are places to go, people that will help.&amp;nbsp; Please call&amp;nbsp; now&amp;nbsp; 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/1502940296200600754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/1502940296200600754?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/1502940296200600754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/1502940296200600754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/10/what-others-seedont-see.html' title='What others see/don&#39;t see:'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-5469659345444858632</id><published>2011-10-14T11:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T11:55:31.818-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My first time..</title><content type='html'>Did I tell you that I had a Pampered Chef party?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
I just got my stuff in, and I can&#39;t tell you how excited I was to use this bad boy here!&lt;br /&gt;
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The Pampered Chef lady that came to my house put a few pieces of chicken in here, a little bit of extra virgin olive oil and some jerk chicken seasoning popped it into the microwave and 12 minutes later she chopped up the chicken, added some cheese and wolla (is that how you spell it?) we had the most amazing chicken dip with nachos EVER!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;
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So you know I wanted to try out my pot right away...but unfortunately it will not fit in my microwave.&amp;nbsp; I put mine in the oven....&lt;br /&gt;
When I pulled it out I pickup the lid (with my pot holder) and it slipped out of my hand.&amp;nbsp; The lid slipped out of my hand and fell back onto the pot, about an inch below, and broke. It didn&#39;t chip, or crack.&amp;nbsp; It broke completely in half, on the very first use.&lt;br /&gt;
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I broke a very expensive pot, on the fist use.&amp;nbsp; The freaking meat wasn&#39;t even completely cooked!&amp;nbsp; I didn&#39;t finish using it the first freaking time yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;
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I guess it&#39;s safe to assume that I&#39;m not as excited anymore, I&#39;m just plain sick.&amp;nbsp; How could I have dropped the dang lid and broke it on the first use??&lt;br /&gt;
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Lucky for me though Pampered Chef agreed to replace it, and my hubby agreed that we can get a bigger microwave :)&amp;nbsp; so now I get to wait AGAIN so that I can use this amazing dish!&lt;br /&gt;
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Well hope you all have an amazing weekend!&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/5469659345444858632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/5469659345444858632?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5469659345444858632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5469659345444858632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/10/my-first-time.html' title='My first time..'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/public/f_gD2YCX2Cc0PBRgjckDUroaGkpr1zBWxFiymF13UNeh1P9s21wAIXQgIMkzYD1bd-HBy62NZkoghEHa63YhBhvAWkFXLJt1dahuiMkqfyx5_bk6KyGFaas0xqnROXp-p-VJBkBgPSd7zPqSJAUD-sfOK8hJdeIRyjkAmg=s72-c" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-5198968142098816401</id><published>2011-10-08T08:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-08T08:00:09.273-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Domestic Violence"/><title type='text'>Just Once...</title><content type='html'>There were so many times I wish someone would have just said &quot;STOP&quot; to him.&amp;nbsp; Just once I wish someone would have stood up not for me.&lt;br /&gt;
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When we were first married we lived in an apartment with very thin walls. These walls were so thin I could hear when the man next door would pee..yea that&#39;s&amp;nbsp;thin.&amp;nbsp; Not once did anyone ever knock on the door during one of the fights.&amp;nbsp; Not once was the police called.&amp;nbsp; Not once did anything happen that would get me help.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m not saying that I took it, I faught back, but leaving was hard. And no matter how hard I fought back...I was only 98 pounds...he was 180...not much of a match.&lt;br /&gt;
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I guess everyone thought that it was none of their business.&amp;nbsp; None of their concern.&amp;nbsp; They were right.&amp;nbsp; But just once I wish someone would have said &quot;Stop&quot; or &quot;Leave her alone&quot; or just simply called the cops...something I didn&#39;t have the courage to do.&lt;br /&gt;
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If you are in a violent relationship, you are not alone.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You are not stuck!&amp;nbsp;You can get out, there is help! &lt;br /&gt;
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Please call the number below: &lt;br /&gt;
1-800-799-SAFE (7233)&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/5198968142098816401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/5198968142098816401?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5198968142098816401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5198968142098816401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/10/just-once.html' title='Just Once...'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-2095082150919227346</id><published>2011-10-01T08:36:00.159-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T08:36:00.304-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Domestic Violence"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="my story"/><title type='text'>Domestic Violence Awarness Month...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;1&quot; src=&quot;http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thes00c-20&amp;amp;l=btl&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=0415953251&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important;&quot; width=&quot;1&quot; /&gt;October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Since this is a topic so close to home for me, I think I would like to share my story.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Honestly it is June right now, and I am writing this with a scheduled automatic post date.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m writing this now because I recently read something that...well I guess you could say that brought it back to the surface.&amp;nbsp; Now it&#39;s been on my heart for a month or two and I thought I could take some time to really write it out, share my story and maybe if someone out there reading this, and is in a situation they can finally find the strength to do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: red;&quot;&gt;My Story (as told by me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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When I finished high school in 1993 I dove head first into work and college.&amp;nbsp; I was head strong and proud.&amp;nbsp; I had started dancing in a more serious competitive group and my long skinny body was looking more toned and muscular.&amp;nbsp; I was still skinny, but healthier looking.&amp;nbsp; The rips in my abs gave me a confidence that I had never had before.&amp;nbsp; I knew what I wanted in life, and I intended to get it.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s amazing how naive I was.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; It was the next summer that my cousin set me up with this guy that she worked with.&amp;nbsp; He was a handsome fellow, had a nice car, a good job (so I thought at the time) and he seemed really nice.&amp;nbsp; He was 7 years older than I was, and divorced.&amp;nbsp; His daughter lived with his ex-wife, but he only saw her once a month because her mother wouldn&#39;t let him see her (&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;her fault of course)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
My mother really didn&#39;t say much about me going out with him, only it probably wasn&#39;t wise to date a man with a child.&amp;nbsp; You are going to love my response&amp;nbsp; &quot;Mama, its a free meal and a movie....it&#39;s not like I&#39;m gonna marry the guy or anything&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Our first date, he actually opened the door for me, took me to a nice restaurant and was the perfect gentleman. When he took me home he actually asked if he could kiss me goodnight. When I said yes, he took my hand and kissed the back of it. The next morning I found roses and a teddy bear in the front seat of my car with a note telling me what a good time he&#39;d had.&amp;nbsp; Be still young girl heart...&lt;br /&gt;
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He was actually the maintenance &quot;supervisor&quot; at a mill that I had applied to work at.&amp;nbsp; So when I got the job that just meant that we would see each other periodically during the day. At least once a week I would come into work and find flowers, cards or some sweet gift in my seat. It would make my heart skip a beat...after 6 months he asked me to marry him and I said yes.&lt;br /&gt;
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It wasn&#39;t long after that, things started to change. He would say things like &quot;Why don&#39;t you try to wear your hair this way, I bet it would look good&quot; I would try it for a while, then when I fixed it differently he would get mad.&amp;nbsp; I remember one morning he picked me up for church and didn&#39;t like my hair so he pulled over and raked his hand through it messing it up and telling me I looked better with a rats nest on my head than the way I fixed it.&amp;nbsp;I was so embarrassed to walk in church with my hair all a mess, but I had nothing to fix it back with and really what could I do?&amp;nbsp; We were almost there, and he was driving....what were my options?&amp;nbsp; I just smoothed it down best I could and rode on to church. Of course after church...he was sorry, he didn&#39;t mean it...I was beautiful...blah blah blah...&lt;br /&gt;
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There were other signs too: &amp;nbsp;He would loose his temper and blame it on stress of the wedding, stress of finding us a place to live together, stress of this or that it was always one excuse or another.&lt;br /&gt;
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One night I got a really bad headache while we were watching TV. I laid down on the couch thinking that maybe it would go away, but it just got worse. I finally decided to go home,&amp;nbsp; I never slept over, and it never entered my thoughts to sleep over. When I told him I was leaving, that I didn&#39;t feel good he slapped me on the back of the head.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I remember saying that I was breaking up with him...because he&#39;d HIT me!!! He swore it was an accident, that he&#39;d really barely touched me and that it&#39;d happened when he was moving his arm from around me. ... My head was hurting so bad that just lying it on the headrest of my seat was painful, so I thought maybe it was an accident, maybe he didn&#39;t really hit me, just bumped my head while he was moving his arm...I guess I just really wanted to believe him.&lt;br /&gt;
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In March a few months later, we had met somewhere to go out, and the plan was to leave my car at the restaurant then go see a movie or something. When we were leaving the argument started. We were really going at it and I decided that I wanted to go home, and just get away from him, think about things. I got out of his car, to get into mine and the next thing I knew I was pulling my foot out from under his tire!!!! On the way to the hospital, he swore he was just leaving, he didn&#39;t realize I had stepped in front of the car...it was an accident. You know, they say love is blind, but I think that more than anything I didn&#39;t want to believe that he actually tried to run me over! Of course we told it his way, it was an accident...&lt;br /&gt;
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The night before the wedding in August, 1995, I knew I was making a mistake. But I was young, and I didn&#39;t want to be embarrassed. All those people were coming, we had all those gifts,&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;it would be so embarrassing to cancel it NOW! &amp;nbsp;We argued that night, and for the first time he actually grabbed me and shook me, everything before that I could say was maybe an accident. That wasn&#39;t.&amp;nbsp; You don&#39;t accidentally grab someone and shake them like that.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;was scared and his daughter was standing there watching..crying.&lt;br /&gt;
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I walked down the aisle with bruises on both arms. I remember praying at the back of the church &quot;Please God don&#39;t let my daddy or my brother see the bruises&quot; I was wearing long sleeves with mesh inserts on them..(I don&#39;t have a picture available) but for the most part my arms were covered, except for the see through sections from the shoulder to the elbow...where the bruises were.&lt;br /&gt;
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It was only a few months after the wedding that he slammed my head into a light fixture that caused a large gash at my temple. These things continued to happen for the next couple of years, things that were avoidable and just a result of his lack of ability (maybe desire) to control his temper..&lt;br /&gt;
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In November my best friend died, to say that I was alone during my darkest times would not be an exaggeration.&amp;nbsp; I was alone.&amp;nbsp; At the funeral home I was trying so hard to be strong, not get upset but seeing her casket, and then her mother..I couldn&#39;t control my grief any longer,&amp;nbsp;I just started sobbing.&amp;nbsp; I could hardly let her mother go..the pain was so intense.&amp;nbsp; When I finally gathered myself and moved out the door he looked at me and said &quot;I think you are faking, she&#39;s dead she&#39;s not coming back..get over it&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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In September of 1996 we argued over a deck of cards that I accidentally kicked when I walked by. He hit me in the stomach, hard enough to knock me across the room and knock the breath right out of me. I was on the floor trying to breathe ...but I just couldn&#39;t... I remember being on my knees bent over just trying to breathe in, but the air just kept going out.&amp;nbsp; I didn&#39;t know what was happening but I really thought I was going to die.&amp;nbsp;That&#39;s when I realized I was in real&amp;nbsp;trouble. I started thinking I need to do something, but if I leave I have to tell what is going on, why I am leaving. So I waited, tried to gather my thoughts and figure out what I would do, where I would go, and how I would pay for it. 2 weeks later I found out I was pregnant. 6 weeks pregnant according to the ultra sound. So my&amp;nbsp;thoughts went away from figuring things out to making things work. After all now there was going to be a baby.&lt;br /&gt;
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The week of Thanksgiving I started to spot, I went to the Dr, and the ultrasound showed that I was still only 6 weeks along and there was no heart beat. He said the baby should be measuring 12 weeks by then, and the heart beat should be showing on the monitor. I don&#39;t know that hit caused the miscarriage, but I don&#39;t know that it didn&#39;t either. They scheduled a DNC for the next morning and sent me home.&amp;nbsp; That night I actually started to bleed and bad. He wouldn&#39;t even get up. I honestly thought I would bleed to death before morning. When I finally got to the phone and called the Dr.s office they said for me to get there right then. Mark wouldn&#39;t leave until he showered and shaved...The nurse had to assist me into the office because I didn&#39;t have the strength to walk.&amp;nbsp;The Dr&amp;nbsp;said I was bleeding out, had lost too much blood because the fetus had lodged in my cervix just holding it open, allowing me to pour blood.&amp;nbsp;Mark &amp;nbsp;started to cry..I love you, baby I&#39;m sorry, I love you.... but after they gave me a shot to knock me out and sent me home..that same man, you know that one that said he loved me?&amp;nbsp; He left me knocked out in the car while he went into Bojangles and sat down to have breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;
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I was so depressed, so hurt.&amp;nbsp; I just made it through the next year, going through the motions, putting one foot in front of the other and trying to get through. Things got a little better, then they got worse again. &lt;br /&gt;
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It was Christmas of 1997 when I found out I was pregnant with Cameron.&lt;br /&gt;
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In March, my cousin (who was only 13 at the time) walked in on him choking me. He was holding me by the throat against the wall with my feet about 12 inches from the floor. Had she not started screaming he may have killed me that day. I owe her my life, I truly believe that she saved me that day. That is when my family found out about the abuse.&lt;br /&gt;
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During the months of my pregnancy the abuse was no longer physical, but more emotional/mental.&amp;nbsp; You are so fat, you are huge I hope that baby comes out soon because&amp;nbsp;pregnancy has made you such a bitch.&amp;nbsp; You better quit eating that because no one is going to want to be with a fat girl...I can&#39;t tell you how many times I wanted to kill myself.&amp;nbsp; The movement of my unborn baby is why I am here today. I hated my life, but I couldn&#39;t see a way out. If I left he would drop me from the insurance, I wouldn&#39;t have any money, I wouldn&#39;t have anywhere to go and no way to pay for it. &lt;br /&gt;
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My mom bought a house (she&#39;s in real estate) and started to fix it up. So I would have a place to move when I could. &lt;br /&gt;
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I moved out when Cam was 8 weeks old. It took Mark shaking my 8 week old baby to get me to move, but I did. I moved into my dad&#39;s house while my mom and step dad finished renovating the old house I was going to live in. The house I still live in today. &lt;br /&gt;
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In&amp;nbsp;the next couple of years Mark took Cameron, stabbed me, kicked in my door and stalked me. He had my self esteem so low that I was ashamed to leave my house, I was fat (at 98 pounds) ugly, worthless, stupid. It took years to get just a little grain of self confidence back. It&#39;s amazing what a man will do to you. (I mean the wrong man, the one that doesn&#39;t deserve you). &lt;br /&gt;
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I remember when I got my old yearbooks out.&amp;nbsp; I was going through&amp;nbsp;the attic, came across those book&amp;nbsp;and started reading all the nice things my teachers wrote. Telling me how smart I am, how wonderful I am. My friends that wrote how nice and pretty I was.&amp;nbsp; That was a turning point for me. &lt;br /&gt;
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Not that I thought I was beautiful, but it made me remember that I did have friends, people liked me, I wasn&#39;t the most beautiful girl in the world...but my stomach didn&#39;t churn when I looked in the mirror either...It&#39;s hard to explain why that helped me, but it did.&lt;br /&gt;
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There are many more things that happened, and I can tell you things that will make you shake your head and wonder why I stayed. The only reason that I can come up with is that battered women&#39;s syndrome is a very real thing. You stay because you feel like you have to, you are embarrassed enough from the way things are. You can hear all these people whispering about your personal life, b/c you feel like everyone knows. The humiliation kept me there, it didn&#39;t help me leave. When I did finally talk to someone they would tell me what they would do and I would want to scream YOU DON&#39;T KNOW, YOU DON&#39;T LIVE IT, IT&#39;S NOT THAT EASY!!&amp;nbsp; It really isn&#39;t.&amp;nbsp; You have to feel like you are doing the right thing, you have to feel like you tried your best to make it work, you still have that voice (that often &quot;religious&quot; people put there) saying that you made a promise before GOD and you are braking that promise.&amp;nbsp; Leaving is hard, even when you don&#39;t love them anymore.&amp;nbsp; Leaving is hard because it means that you have failed.&amp;nbsp; Here is a secrete...YOU DIDN&#39;T FAIL - YOU WON!!! If you leave you have won, you have freed&amp;nbsp; yourself from this captivity and are on your way to finding happiness.&lt;br /&gt;
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Wes and I met in October of 1999.&amp;nbsp; When we started dating and something would happen that I thought he would be mad about I would get physically ill.&amp;nbsp; I would cry and throw up.&amp;nbsp; I remember being late to something once, and calling him. &quot;I can&#39;t come, I&#39;m sorry.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m late and just go without me&quot; I remember him just clear as day saying, it doesn&#39;t matter, we will get there when we get there and if the others&amp;nbsp;can&#39;t wait then to hell with them.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I have believed for&amp;nbsp;a long time that God brought us together, to help each other.&amp;nbsp; I needed him to get back some sort of self worth, he needed me to help him quit drinking.&lt;br /&gt;
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I left Mark in October of 1998, now here we are in October of 2011 and I am such a better person now. I still have my issues,&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;still have that voice in the back of my head telling me that I don&#39;t have friends, people don&#39;t like me, they only use me for&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: xx-small;&quot;&gt;fill in the blank here,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;but my life has come a long way. My husband, Wes, would never hurt me, he would die before he let anyone else hurt me or Cameron.&amp;nbsp; In Wes I have found a feeling of safety that I never thought I would find again.&amp;nbsp; The first time he wrapped his arms around me I felt safe, the knot in my stomach just released and I felt like nothing could ever hurt me again. &lt;br /&gt;
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If you are one of the many women living in a violent relationship, I&#39;m telling you this so that you can see that you are not alone in your world of pain. This doesn&#39;t have to be your story, this doesn&#39;t have to be the end for you, ...your story has just begun! Something so much more is waiting for you just around the other side, you can beat this&amp;nbsp; and you will find the true love of your life. You will be amazed at how great things will be!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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1-800-799-SAFE&amp;nbsp;(7233) call now, they will give you the help that you need.&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/2095082150919227346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/2095082150919227346?isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2095082150919227346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2095082150919227346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/10/domestic-violence-awarness-month.html' title='Domestic Violence Awarness Month...'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-2722149230467194142</id><published>2011-09-15T09:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T10:00:09.197-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes  and - My First brush with death</title><content type='html'>Well some time&amp;nbsp; back I told you all that I just felt it was time for a change.&amp;nbsp; I loved the people that I worked for, and the stuff that I was doing was okay..but honestly I felt like I was loosing my mind.&amp;nbsp; I was the only &quot;employee&quot; of this business.&amp;nbsp; I worked in an office with the two man owners.&amp;nbsp; Most of the time it was just me by myself.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I would bring my ipod, but that only helped some.&amp;nbsp; I was lonely.&amp;nbsp; Really lonely.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Loneliness was only one of the problems. Another problem&amp;nbsp;was that I couldn&#39;t concentrate on my job, I felt like it was taking me longer to get my job done, and I always felt like I was going to climb the walls.&amp;nbsp; I know that sounds crazy but I honestly felt like I was going to come out of my skin.&amp;nbsp; So I decided to make a change.&amp;nbsp; On June 25th I gave my notice.&amp;nbsp; My last day would be July 29.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I started CNA school on August 1st.&amp;nbsp; This is my first step to becoming a RN!&amp;nbsp; I never really thought about nursing before, but I just felt that this is where I am supposed to be!&amp;nbsp; People that don&#39;t believe in God will not understand that feeling, but I think that God put me in the position to save my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My first day of school was August 1st, and my prerequisite classes started August 24th..the same day the CNA classes ended.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I was so excited to be doing this!&amp;nbsp; My plan was (is) to get my CNA and work at a hospital or nursing home on the weekend shift so that I can go to school during the week. So for at least a month or two I would be unemployed.&amp;nbsp; Wes has a good job, if we tightened our belts a little we would be able to adjust to loosing my paycheck.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first step was t sale my car.&amp;nbsp; My 2007 Honda Civic..the one with the leather seats, GPS, sun roof and the dark tinted windows...Oh how I loved that car.&amp;nbsp; But the payment had to go.&amp;nbsp; So now I have a Chrysler Serris that is paid for..we call it Squeaker because it squeaks so much.&amp;nbsp; We also call it &quot;The Sacrifice&quot;.&amp;nbsp; We can sacrifice the car, for the lack of income and be okay for a while.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway I started my class on August 1st, with the hopes to be back at work by sometime in September.&amp;nbsp; Classes were great but I had not felt well all week.&amp;nbsp; I still had that sick feeling all the time.&amp;nbsp; Just marked it up to menstrual issues and went on to school.&amp;nbsp; On Thursday I felt really bad, I had a headache and I was trying to fight it off with caffeine and advil.&amp;nbsp; After lunch on Thursday my teacher, Mrs. Mitchem, decided to demonstrate how to do blood pressure...and for some reason she choose me.&amp;nbsp; Keep in mind I had been sucking down caffeine all day.&amp;nbsp; She looked at me really funny and said &quot;Do you have high blood pressure&quot;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
No.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I think you do, you should have this looked at&amp;nbsp; its 160/110&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I decided that with all the caffeine, I should just throw out the Mt. Dew I was drinking and have it rechecked the next day&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I felt even worse on Friday.&amp;nbsp; My head was about to split and I felt like I was getting sick.&amp;nbsp; I was struggling to just sit in class.&amp;nbsp; Finally when class ended I asked her again to check my blood pressure, just to see if it was lower than the day before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
212/116&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I went straight to the Dr.&amp;nbsp; the not feeling well was me about to have a stroke!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn&#39;t even have to wait at the Dr.&#39;s office,&amp;nbsp; I signed in, told them my bp and asked to use the restroom.&amp;nbsp; Before I could pee the nurse was knocking on the door &quot;Kelly are you in there?&quot;&amp;nbsp; &quot;Are you ok&quot;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They took me to a room, and gave me some meds, took my bp again and sat with me until it dropped.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Dr. came in to tell me that the trouble I was having breathing, the spams in my lip...all that was me about to have a stroke.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m 36 years old.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve never smoked a day in my life&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t drink&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t do drugs&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m over weight..but I&#39;m not obese.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn&#39;t believe it.&amp;nbsp; He gave me some meds to help but that wasn&#39;t enough.&amp;nbsp; On Monday when I left school, I had to pick up a second med to get it lower.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do you want to know the scariest part???&amp;nbsp; That was the first week that I didn&#39;t work.&amp;nbsp; Both of my bosses were on vacation that week.&amp;nbsp; I would have been at the office alone, I would not have left because I felt bad.&amp;nbsp; I would have stayed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I would be dead today...or severely damaged from a stroke had I not left my job, gone to CNA school and found my blood pressure issue.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Twice n 4 days.&amp;nbsp; I know that God has His hands of protection all over me.&amp;nbsp; What I don&#39;t know is what I did to deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m very thankful to be alive right now with the ability to live on my own.&amp;nbsp; Wash my own hair and see my son turn 13.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cameron turned 13 on August 13th.&amp;nbsp; Just a few days after my horse accident.&amp;nbsp; Do you realize how close he came to being at my funeral on his birthday?&amp;nbsp; Do you think that is an exaggeration?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If I had not left my job, I would have had a stroke.&amp;nbsp; At the office alone.&amp;nbsp; No one would have come by to check on me until I didn&#39;t come home from work.&amp;nbsp; Cameron was with my brother.&amp;nbsp; I wouldn&#39;t have been missed until about 8 o&#39;clock that night.&amp;nbsp; If I wasn&#39;t dead I would have been in really bad shape.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That is so scary.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After I picked up the bp meds, I went to feed he horses before I went home to lay down...you read what happened after that yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Twice in 4 days I was in a bad situation that could have killed me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today I am so thankful to be here..alive and well...able to write this blog and tell you all about my own personal experience with DIVINE INTERVENTION!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/2722149230467194142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/2722149230467194142?isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2722149230467194142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2722149230467194142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/09/well-some-time-back-i-told-you-all-that.html' title='Changes  and - My First brush with death'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-6183974869192816174</id><published>2011-09-13T17:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T17:56:15.951-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My second brush with death in 4 days ...no I&#39;m not kidding.</title><content type='html'>Well I waited a while again.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m so sorry.&amp;nbsp; I have been so busy, and i will explain soon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A while back, I told you about Honey (our horse).&amp;nbsp; When I bought Honey she was the only horse in our pasture.&amp;nbsp; Back in June my mom bought 2 more horses..Shadow and Misty.&amp;nbsp; Toward the end of July, my step brother bought Gypsy.&amp;nbsp; Well when Shadow and Misty came there were really no issues.&amp;nbsp; No real fighting.&amp;nbsp; I will assume that the reason was that Honey was so excited that she had company that she didn&#39;t want to fight..and Misty and Shadow came from the same home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well...here is what happened....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gypsy came to the group and they were not accepting her.&amp;nbsp; So when I stopped by that Monday I wasn&#39;t feeling well (I will explain that later).&amp;nbsp; I was trying to hurry, my cell phone was dead, my cousin (who lives at the pasture) wasn&#39;t home, my step dad had surgery so my mom was in the country taking care of him, and my step brother was on vacation...so I had to feed the horses.&amp;nbsp; Not feeling well, I thought I will go ahead by there and then go home and lay down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t know why I did this, but I fixed 3 feeding buckets and took them into the barn..since the 3 were not being friendly to Gypsy I decided to take her food out to her in the pasture. (I know not a very smart move) and I didn&#39;t lock the others up (even more stupid).&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was standing there with Gypsy..minding my own business (that means not paying attention).&amp;nbsp; I was holding a small bowl with Gypsy&#39;s food in it, petting her and talking to her when I thought I heard something.&amp;nbsp; That something was Shadow running at us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn&#39;t move because when I tried Gypsy had moved and was standing where I went to step and Shadow plowed right into me.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m pretty sure I flipped over Gypsy&#39;s back.&amp;nbsp; Both of my shoes came off my feet and I had a mouth full of horse feed and dirt.&amp;nbsp; The scariest part was when I was trying to get off the ground all I could see was horse feet and butts. I couldn&#39;t feel my teeth and I was scared out of my mind.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My first thought was &quot;Oh my God my TEETH!!&quot;&amp;nbsp; I thought that I was spitting my teeth out because my mouth was hurting and I was spitting out the horse feed.&amp;nbsp; So I got my shoes and made it to the truck to look in the mirror.&amp;nbsp; ALL THERE!!!&amp;nbsp; Thank GOD!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I couldn&#39;t open the truck door, and I had a huge knot on my wrist.&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t really know how I managed to drive to the office and call for help.&amp;nbsp; I was a basket case, I was scared, hurting and I knew that I had just been ran over by a 1200 pound animal.&amp;nbsp; And the two were fighting around me lying on the ground!&amp;nbsp; It is a wonder I wasn&#39;t trampled, injured really bad or killed.&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t know why but I know that Gods hands were protecting me that day, I walked out of that pasture with nothing more than a broken wrist and a few sore muscles (okay a lot of sore muscles...but I cut a flip over a horse, and was run over by another horse..soreness is expected).&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So there you have it.&amp;nbsp; That is the 2nd time in 4 days that I escaped either death or serious injury.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will try to get back in a couple of days (probably on Thursday) to explain the first escape.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have a great Hump day tomorrow!!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/6183974869192816174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/6183974869192816174?isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6183974869192816174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6183974869192816174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-second-brush-with-death-in-4-days-no.html' title='My second brush with death in 4 days ...no I&#39;m not kidding.'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-9042936801463905418</id><published>2011-08-30T09:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T09:00:27.719-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ive been slack</title><content type='html'>I guess I should come and tell you all about what has been changing in my life lately. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well for starters when we came back from vacation we moved.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
It was bitter/sweet.&amp;nbsp; I lived in that house all of Cam&#39;s life.&amp;nbsp; 13 years!&amp;nbsp; It was hard leaving..figuratively and literally.&amp;nbsp; OMG...do you know how much junk you get collect in 13 years???&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I do love the new place though.&amp;nbsp; It is out away from everything and just so peaceful here.&amp;nbsp; We have has some issues with the dog fence, that we have not worked out yet, but all in all I love the new place.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I will take you on a short tour for the next few weeks.&amp;nbsp; One room at a time :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m going to keep this short for now..because typing is difficult with this:&lt;br /&gt;
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I will tell you about this tomorrow!!&lt;/div&gt;
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Kelly﻿&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/9042936801463905418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/9042936801463905418?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/9042936801463905418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/9042936801463905418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/08/ive-been-slack.html' title='Ive been slack'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-2981883792900651967</id><published>2011-07-27T14:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T14:45:23.219-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Dunkin Donuts</title><content type='html'>Dear Dunkin Donuts &amp;amp;&amp;nbsp; Dairy Queen,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We (the people of our small town) would like to thank you so much for bringing your businesses to our town.&amp;nbsp; You see before Dairy Queen came here we had several &quot;mom &amp;amp; pop&quot; ice cream stores.&amp;nbsp; Dairy Queen made it hard, but they weathered through.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
About 6 months later Dunkin Donuts made their arrival...and the mom and pop stores closed.&amp;nbsp; It wasn&#39;t missed much because we had both Dairy Queen and Dunkin Donuts!!! Whoo!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now a year later Dairy Queen has gone and left us, and Dunkin you followed...now our town only has McDonalds ice cream...no dipped ice cream here...only fast food type.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So we appreciate your small &quot;visit&quot; to our town to run out all the little guys.&amp;nbsp; You have now left us with basically nothing in the way of ice cream...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://money.msn.com/investment-advice/article-4.aspx?post=eed0ff58-b142-42cd-af29-e4ed0f4cc0b0&amp;amp;GT1=33036&quot;&gt;http://money.msn.com/investment-advice/article-4.aspx?post=eed0ff58-b142-42cd-af29-e4ed0f4cc0b0&amp;amp;GT1=33036&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/2981883792900651967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/2981883792900651967?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2981883792900651967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/2981883792900651967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/07/dear-dunkin-donuts.html' title='Dear Dunkin Donuts'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-4524205444624750215</id><published>2011-07-26T08:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T08:57:19.763-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I&#39;m back from Vaca...can I go again?</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m back from Vacation...but I&#39;m winding up my last week of work and I am so busy.&amp;nbsp; We have had a lot going on in the last 2 weeks and I can&#39;t wait to share with you all the exciting things happening in my life!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Stay tuned and i will post pictures from out last competition and out vacation!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/4524205444624750215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/4524205444624750215?isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/4524205444624750215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/4524205444624750215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/07/im-back-from-vacacan-i-go-again.html' title='I&#39;m back from Vaca...can I go again?'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-5807315220452807378</id><published>2011-07-12T09:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T09:18:59.302-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vacation"/><title type='text'>Where Oh Where is my Brain at?</title><content type='html'>On vacation already...that&#39;s where!&lt;br /&gt;
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I shipped Cam off to&amp;nbsp;baseball camp&amp;nbsp;on Sunday, and I know you remember &lt;a href=&quot;http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2010/06/hes-going-to-be-fine.html&quot;&gt;last summer&lt;/a&gt; when I thought my heart would explode for leaving him there.&amp;nbsp; Leaving my child behind with total strangers, with no friends, in a town 3 hours away...&lt;br /&gt;
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It was easier this year.&amp;nbsp; Of course, he didn&#39;t get scared as we left.&amp;nbsp; He said goodbye and walked off and didn&#39;t look back.&amp;nbsp; Last year he said goodbye and his eyes teared up, and he walked off looking back.&amp;nbsp; Just thinking about it rips my heart out!&amp;nbsp; We still didn&#39;t go straight home, we stopped and ate and shopped because going home to an empty house just didn&#39;t appeal to either of us.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s so different without Cameron there.&lt;br /&gt;
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Anyway, we pick him up from camp on Thursday (only 2 more days!) and head to the BEACH until Monday....I honestly can&#39;t wait.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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The problem is that my body is here at work...while my brain is not.&amp;nbsp; I have got to get this bank reconciliation finished, payroll taxes done, sales tax report complete and still do the quarterly payroll reports....for 2 more companies....I&#39;ve got to concentrate!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.eagleresorts.com/images/eagleimages/north%20myrtle%20beach.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; m$=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;http://www.eagleresorts.com/images/eagleimages/north%20myrtle%20beach.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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but it&#39;s hard..it&#39;s really really hard!!!!&lt;br /&gt;
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There are so many places that my mind is:&lt;br /&gt;
1 - packing my stuff&lt;br /&gt;
2 - missing my little man&lt;br /&gt;
3 - thinking about the big changes about to take place in the next couple of weeks&lt;br /&gt;
4 - placing my feet in the water a$$ in the sand..&lt;br /&gt;
5 - some beach ...some where...&lt;br /&gt;
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ANYWHERE BUT HERE!!!!!!!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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Hope you all have a wonderful week...and I&#39;m heading out for vacation starting at 5:00 today (I&#39;m using tomorrow to prepair for the beach!)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/5807315220452807378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/5807315220452807378?isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5807315220452807378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/5807315220452807378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/07/where-oh-where-is-my-brain-at.html' title='Where Oh Where is my Brain at?'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-9034701942962936162</id><published>2011-06-28T17:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T17:11:57.162-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="my story"/><title type='text'>what I want to say:</title><content type='html'>Last week, somehow...my ex-husbands profile poped up in the &quot;friend suggestion&quot; on Facebook...imagine my shock to see a picture of Cameron as his profile picture.&amp;nbsp; If you don&#39;t know the story of Cameron you can check &lt;a href=&quot;http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/06/fathers-day.html&quot;&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;,&amp;nbsp; or &lt;a href=&quot;http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2010/03/sounding-board-just-for-today.html#comments&quot;&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
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I simply sent him&amp;nbsp;a message on FB that said &quot;Why in the world would you use Cameron&#39;s picture on your profile?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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His response is &quot;You know why, I really didn&#39;t think you would get mad.&amp;nbsp; Tracy and mom get to talk to Cameron and I don&#39;t.&amp;nbsp; It ,actually makes me feel alot better about YOU.&amp;nbsp; I didn&#39;t know it would offend you.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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I didn&#39;t respond to that I just blocked him.&amp;nbsp; But this is what I would like to respond...because I divorced him to quit arguing and fighting I will just post it here...&lt;br /&gt;
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No Mark I don&#39;t know the answer. &lt;br /&gt;
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When you posted that picture - I&#39;m sure it was for Fathers Day that you put it up there, did you intend to imply that you are the father of both of those children??? Did you by chance post under that picture...these are my children, I have not seen that little boy since he was 22 months old, I&#39;ve never paid child support, sent a birthday or Christmas card and I don&#39;t call. He calls another man DAD because I&#39;m a POS deadbeat father.....&lt;br /&gt;
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What have you done for your children? Have you had to wear old worn-out clothes so that they can have something nice that fits? Have you worked 7 days a week to make sure that they have not only the things that they need but the things that they want too?? Have you sacrificed ANYTHING for your children???? &lt;br /&gt;
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I guess we both know the answer to that. &lt;br /&gt;
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Yes it makes my blood boil for you to post a picture of MY SON on your profile like you had anything at all to do with the young man he is today. You didn’t. I’m sure though that you are telling everyone that I&#39;m such a bitch, that I won’t let you have anything to do with him. It&#39;s all me. .because you said that same crap about Jackie. It was you; you didn&#39;t have the time nor desire to do what was right. You could go to your house and smoke your cigarettes and say &quot;Oh I just don&#39;t have the money&quot; but did you do anything to help? NO. You quit having something to do with Cameron when you realized that the stalking and threatening wasn&#39;t working anymore. You realized that you had to leave me alone, so you left him alone too. It&#39;s your fault you are where you are today. You and you alone.&lt;br /&gt;
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You might be Cameron&#39;s biological father but you have chosen not to know him, you chose that years ago. Now that isn&#39;t your choice anymore it&#39;s Camerons. He doesn&#39;t want to know you at this time. If that changes I will contact either Bre or Traci, other than that you need to leave Cameron out of your FB crap. You are not his DAD, he has one here that makes the necessary sacrifices for him. He has a dad that loves him and knows all about him. A dad that wants him to have the stuff that he desires bad enough to work like a slave to get it.&lt;br /&gt;
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And as far as this comment &quot;It ,actually makes me feel alot better about YOU.&quot;....I divorced you because I didn&#39;t give a crap about what you thought about me anymore!!! You are so vain to think that how you think of me would actually matter! You and your family decided not to see Cameron, not me. Your family decided to contact me...that ball was always in their court..now it&#39;s all Camerons decision. &lt;br /&gt;
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Because you decided to swipe a picture of Cameron, no one wil be able to view the pictures that I put up...congratulations Mark again you managed to screw up a good thing for everyone for your own personal gratification.&lt;br /&gt;
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Thanks for letting me vent on that Jerk again...you would think that after13 years I wouldn&#39;t let him get to me anymore....</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/9034701942962936162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/9034701942962936162?isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/9034701942962936162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/9034701942962936162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/06/what-i-want-to-say.html' title='what I want to say:'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-8627709342446681530</id><published>2011-06-22T09:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T09:07:08.579-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Great Kid"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="husband"/><title type='text'>Fathers Day</title><content type='html'>I wanted to take the time to tell you about a wonderful dad.&amp;nbsp; He isn&#39;t a Father..and doesn&#39;t want to &quot;father&quot; a child, he is happy with the one that calls him DAD.&lt;br /&gt;
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This man sacrifices whatever it takes to make sure he has a good job, that makes enough to pay for our needs and his wants for Cam. He gets up every morning at 4:30. he gets home each night at 8:00.&lt;br /&gt;
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On the weekends, he drags all his tiredness out of the house and we go to Carowinds, movies, to the park..whatever they want to do.&amp;nbsp; They throw the ball or ride dirt bikes, hang out doing &quot;guy stuff&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
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He works extra hard on Saturdays to pay for things like horses, golf lessons, guitar lessons whatever that 12 (almost 13) year old boy wants.....&lt;br /&gt;
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He does all this for my son, from my first marriage...a child that is not technically his, a child whose biological father has chosen not to know him...&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;When Wes and I started dating, he never asked me to get a sitter.&amp;nbsp; I had this 15 month old baby and every date we went on..Cam went to.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He would go with me to the store and ALWAYS buy Cameron something.&amp;nbsp; I remember telling him &quot;Look, I&#39;m a single mom, I can&#39;t afford for you to get him used to getting something every time we walk into the store&quot;&amp;nbsp; Wes would just laugh and say &quot;Let me worry about that&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;(our first)&amp;nbsp;Christmas together, &amp;nbsp;he spent more on Cameron than he did me.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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When he would pick me up to go somewhere it would be somewhere like Chuck - E - Cheese, McDonalds playground or the park.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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When Cameron was 3 years old his play school was teaching about mommy&#39;s and daddy&#39;s.&amp;nbsp; He was supposed to tell their names and where they worked.&amp;nbsp; Cameron had not seen my ex-husband in over a year and he was just not someone we talked about.&amp;nbsp;When he came home he wanted me to take him to see Wes.&amp;nbsp; We were sitting there eating he looked over and said &quot;Wes, I want to be your daddy...no...I want you to be the daddy...(sigh) I wanna call you my daddy&quot;&amp;nbsp; Wes said &quot;Okay&quot;&amp;nbsp; Cameron was sitting there for a second then looked back and said &quot;When Mrs. Cauthen says who is your daddy and where does he work I wanna say Wes Jennings is my daddy&quot;&amp;nbsp; Wes said &quot;Okay buddy, what ever you want&quot;&amp;nbsp; I found out that he had already told them that Wes was his daddy..he just needed to know it was okay.&lt;br /&gt;
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Wes has never played baseball...but you should see him outside trying to help Cam improve his game...&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t imagine how hard it was to sell his motorcycle, the one &quot;hobby&quot; he has had since high school because between soccer,&amp;nbsp;baseball and football there was never time to ride...&lt;br /&gt;
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That man sacrifices more in a day for Cam than his biological father has in his whole life!!!!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m so blessed to have such a wonderful DADDY for my son, God needed someone else to be his father but He sure sent&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;the right man to be his DADDY!! I&#39;m so glad that He brought us together. &lt;br /&gt;
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He is a wonderful dad...I always think of this song on Fathers Day, when Cam starts talking about what to buy:&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/BjO1F6oCab8?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;I hope you all had a wonderful day with your fathers!&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/8627709342446681530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/8627709342446681530?isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/8627709342446681530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/8627709342446681530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/06/fathers-day.html' title='Fathers Day'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-6228640405608125562</id><published>2011-06-15T08:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T08:40:32.302-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random thoughts"/><title type='text'>How you could say that about a child?</title><content type='html'>Before you read my post you should read &lt;a href=&quot;http://lifestyle.msn.com/your-life/family-parenting/article.aspx?cp-documentid=28895290&quot;&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; article.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Go ahead I will wait.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.hookingupsmart.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/WomanWaiting-600.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;http://www.hookingupsmart.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/WomanWaiting-600.jpg&quot; t8=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;266&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Woman Waiting by Pamela Galloway &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;﻿ &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;are you done?&amp;nbsp; Yes?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;Did that leave you kind of speechless?&amp;nbsp; Did that make you think whoa?&amp;nbsp; If you read the comments that people leave, you can see that this story leaves each reader with strong emotions.&amp;nbsp; Either disgust with the mother/pity for the child or sorrow for both/happy for both.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;Upon reading the title the only thought in my mind was : &amp;nbsp;How you could say a thing like that?&amp;nbsp; What is wrong with you??&amp;nbsp; Then continuing to read it was easy to see that she was frustrated.&amp;nbsp; Lets face it, parents put such high hopes in their children.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;Personally I get frustrated because I know that Cameron is smart, I know he is good at sports....but he is so self conscience sometimes.&amp;nbsp; He wants to do well...he just doesn&#39;t want anyone to watch it. He doesn&#39;t like the &quot;all eyes on me&quot; moments.&amp;nbsp; When watching him struggle with something that I know that he can do,&amp;nbsp;and have&amp;nbsp;watched him do well&amp;nbsp;100 times...frustration sets in.&amp;nbsp; Then he will out shine everyone in others areas, it&#39;s like a gentle reminder of how great he really is.&amp;nbsp; Like the time he &lt;a href=&quot;http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2010/06/what-is-hero.html#comments&quot;&gt;saved&lt;/a&gt; the life of one of his classmates, or when I asked why his was eating 3 meals a day at lunch (I expected 2) and he said that his friend was always hungry and never had extra money so he would buy his buddy and extra lunch too, or when he came back from a field trip telling me about the cool necklace he wanted to buy...but instead bough his friend that had no money something.&amp;nbsp; Every time I compare Cameron&#39;s talents to another child&#39;s and I feel let down&amp;nbsp; he does something extraordinary to remind me that he shines in his own way...in better ways...where it counts.&amp;nbsp; He has a heart of pure gold!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;This lady, she knew something wasn&#39;t right..something was off.&amp;nbsp; There were no other moments where her daughter would excel.&amp;nbsp; No heart touching moments where her goodness shined through.&amp;nbsp; There was only the feeling that something wasn&#39;t right.&amp;nbsp; I think the mother was searching for answers, then when none came she &amp;nbsp;blamed herself for her daughters problems.... when we blame ourselves we try to turn it to someone else, justify our anger, our&amp;nbsp;hurt and sometimes that gets placed on the wrong shoulders.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;It is hard to believe that she didn&#39;t like her child.&amp;nbsp; If she didn&#39;t like her she would have left her, if she really didn&#39;t like her she wouldn&#39;t have taken her to the Dr. to find out what was wrong.&amp;nbsp; If she didn&#39;t like her she wouldn&#39;t have tried so hard to find something in common with her.&amp;nbsp; She was acting out on her frustrations.&amp;nbsp; She was trying so hard to make that child into a &quot;normal&quot; child, wanting her to be more, wanting her to be accepted.&amp;nbsp; Wanting at least a reason for what was happening.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I think that she loved her daughter, I don&#39;t think she liked herself in her daughters presence.&amp;nbsp; I think she didn&#39;t like herself for how she was looking at her daughter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;I left that article with mixed emotions.&amp;nbsp; Parenting is hard.&amp;nbsp; There is no handbook.&amp;nbsp; You just love your child, encourage (sometimes with a hard push) them to do everything and work hard to be the best.&amp;nbsp; You want you children to have ambition, goals, and the courage to go after those goals.&amp;nbsp; You want everyone to love your children, accept them and you want them to succeed in everything that they do.&amp;nbsp; And when they don&#39;t...it&#39;s hard to deal with.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s hard when there is no reason, then you are left feeling like a failure...a failure at parenting.&amp;nbsp; The consequences of that are the most difficult because it is your child who suffers for your failure.&amp;nbsp; Maybe she was feeling the guilt of failing her daughter.&amp;nbsp; In the end everything worked out, there was a reason and a fix for the problem that&amp;nbsp;her child was having.&amp;nbsp; Now she is only left with the guilt of not just accepting her for what she was.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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I wonder though, if she had not continued to ask questions would they have found her daughters problem or just marked her up as a special needs child?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/6228640405608125562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/6228640405608125562?isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6228640405608125562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/6228640405608125562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/06/how-you-could-say-that-about-child.html' title='How you could say that about a child?'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5604448308988564470.post-7769869919136680639</id><published>2011-06-13T11:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T11:34:49.635-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Great Kid"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random thoughts"/><title type='text'>Better late than never!!!</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m sure that you remember my &lt;a href=&quot;http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/05/no-cow-my-hat.html&quot;&gt;rant&lt;/a&gt; about baseball...the rant that I have every year because I feel like we are getting the short end of the stick.&lt;br /&gt;
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I am not one of those mothers that believes that her child is the best on the team...nor do I believe that he is the worst.&amp;nbsp; I personally believe that every child on the team should be rotated out at some point.&amp;nbsp; No child should sit on the bench 2/3 of every game.&amp;nbsp; That is what has been happening to Cameron.&lt;br /&gt;
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Well, Cameron has been hitting really well this year, although he is only getting one at bat per game he usually gets a base hit.&amp;nbsp; On Thursday nights game surprisingly they let him bat twice!&amp;nbsp; He hit a line drive through center field and had 2 RBI&#39;s!&amp;nbsp; He stole second as well.&amp;nbsp; Anyway, his next at bat was a pop fly to center field that landed right in front of the fence (about 10 feet away from the fence)&amp;nbsp; if it had been just a little straighter it would have gone right over!!!&amp;nbsp; You know his mama (that&#39;s me) was jumping up and down :-)&amp;nbsp; I was so happy!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; (I must add here that Cameron was the very bottom of the line up...he was&amp;nbsp;third up to bat that inning and the next 3 people struck out..)&lt;br /&gt;
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Anyway, on Saturday mornings game they let him bat once...line drive out to the left field!!! 1 RBI!!&amp;nbsp; Then he was left on base by the strike outs on the top of the line up...&lt;br /&gt;
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That was all very important for the conversation that I heard next...This old man came up to the coach after the game and said &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: red; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I don&#39;t know who that little number 11 is, or why he is at the bottom of the line up...but he is 4 for 4 and you need to keep him in the line up and bench some of the top of the line up kids...that kid&#39;s been hot the last few games and he&#39;s been playing circles around those other kids most of this season...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: black;&quot;&gt;I wanted to scream....That number 11 belongs to me!!!!!!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t know who that old man was...but I&#39;m glad I over heard that conversation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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After the game the coach commented &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: orange; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Cameron sure has improved these last couple of games&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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I just smiled and said thanks, but what I really wanted to say was - Cameron has been playing good all year, too bad you didn&#39;t pay attention to the whole team and notice!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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Anyway I just wanted to toot my baby&#39;s horn and say how very proud of him I am (I&#39;m always proud even when he does strike out)&lt;br /&gt;
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I also wanted to say I&#39;m SO GLAD THIS SEASON IS OVER!!!!!!!!!!!&amp;nbsp; We did win the first game on Saturday, Cameron was moved to the top of the line up on on the second game, but honestly the entire team&amp;nbsp; played like they had eaten pizza and drank soda between the games in 99 degree weather...oh wait...they did :(&amp;nbsp; bad decision making on that one!&amp;nbsp; Some one&#39;s sweet parents decided to reward the team on their win, buy pizzas and sodas for lunch before the second game...that was sweet, but not a good idea.&amp;nbsp; They coudn&#39;t get up and move, they all were so sluggish...it was like watching the &lt;em&gt;Bad News Bears&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;
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It&#39;s okay though, they beat the undefeated team,&amp;nbsp;a team that beat them 3 times this year, and came in second in the City Championships! I think that is something to be proud of!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/feeds/7769869919136680639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5604448308988564470/7769869919136680639?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/7769869919136680639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5604448308988564470/posts/default/7769869919136680639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesmiplelife.blogspot.com/2011/06/better-late-than-never.html' title='Better late than never!!!'/><author><name>Kelly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08897115475489789473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFU9vK7E3UN_F6TbGA2udxTr6rAekfbXGerleoPTkkqg-mgB7mwZzjH2U3tkvXYifDI9Hn1i_S1dMjAq1mQdOxmcpUvVd8IDDZ621YECNCOVOZjf2X8IOhMNAgM_kzXQ/s220/button.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>