<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcHQXw-eyp7ImA9WhRaFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:33:50.253-06:00</updated><category term="Sneak A Peek" /><category term="Kamran" /><category term="jokes" /><category term="Zakary" /><category term="funny" /><category term="organization" /><category term="Smorty" /><category term="RM" /><category term="Friends" /><category term="Neighbor" /><category term="real estate" /><category term="marriage" /><category term="vertical sleeve" /><category term="Twilight" /><category term="template" /><category term="Sponsor review" /><category term="Job" /><category term="Parents" /><category term="reviewme" /><category term="Baby" /><category term="`" /><category term="Sister" /><category term="SB" /><category term="video" /><category term="Writing" /><category term="PTA" /><category term="PPP" /><category term="BT" /><category term="Funny Insanity" /><category term="Holidays" /><category term="Kids" /><category term="Meera" /><category term="me" /><category term="Christmas" /><category term="Sara" /><category term="thyroid" /><category term="Strike" /><category term="hubby" /><category term="school" /><category term="depression" /><category term="caption game" /><category term="gastric sleeve" /><category term="Genealogy" /><category term="Meme" /><category term="lab band" /><category term="religion" /><category term="Pictures" /><category term="husband" /><category term="sick" /><category term="Zain" /><category term="Wellbutrin" /><category term="DH" /><category term="weight loss surgery" /><category term="Q and A" /><category term="fluff" /><category term="Blog" /><category term="weight" /><category term="serious" /><category term="Childhood memories" /><category term="money" /><category term="video blog" /><title>Chronicles of an exhausted mom</title><subtitle type="html">Follow the misadventures of an exhausted mother of 4 as she tries to navigate her way through motherhood all without that damn parenting manual she never got.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1146</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom" /><feedburner:info uri="chroniclesofanexhaustedmom" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="license" type="text/html" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMGQXgzfyp7ImA9WhRUEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-1922608731251345017</id><published>2012-01-21T05:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T05:47:00.687-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-21T05:47:00.687-06:00</app:edited><title>Kamran's Senior Photo session</title><content type="html">&lt;iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/35177814?title=0&amp;amp;byline=0&amp;amp;portrait=0" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0" webkitAllowFullScreen mozallowfullscreen allowFullScreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/35177814"&gt;Kamran Senior Photos&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/randyherbert"&gt;Randy Herbert&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-1922608731251345017?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/bAAoq9EL-RU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1922608731251345017/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=1922608731251345017&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/1922608731251345017?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/1922608731251345017?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/bAAoq9EL-RU/kamrans-senior-photo-session.html" title="Kamran's Senior Photo session" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/kamrans-senior-photo-session.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEMRX09fCp7ImA9WhdbFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-5565048897006664169</id><published>2011-10-12T15:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T15:18:04.364-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-12T15:18:04.364-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Been awhile again...wanted to post a few pictures mostly for Lainey who is not on facebook. I had fun at lunch the other day and it was sooooo good to see you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ones of Sara were taken by a neighbor who is taking photo classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YnYBDb1yJ6o/TpX10GIVwBI/AAAAAAAACBg/NeASxRbaNoQ/s1600/313792_2247071669642_1633687051_2197046_1390902596_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YnYBDb1yJ6o/TpX10GIVwBI/AAAAAAAACBg/NeASxRbaNoQ/s320/313792_2247071669642_1633687051_2197046_1390902596_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662702381835862034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OTd57qMYSUc/TpX10HM1DvI/AAAAAAAACBY/t_bjHbI6JP8/s1600/312261_2249960061850_1633687051_2199048_1811700283_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OTd57qMYSUc/TpX10HM1DvI/AAAAAAAACBY/t_bjHbI6JP8/s320/312261_2249960061850_1633687051_2199048_1811700283_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662702382123126514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gxna5kgHcy4/TpX0yK3UBsI/AAAAAAAACBM/85Wz2IDhVqw/s1600/306435_2249960501861_1633687051_2199050_519969683_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gxna5kgHcy4/TpX0yK3UBsI/AAAAAAAACBM/85Wz2IDhVqw/s320/306435_2249960501861_1633687051_2199050_519969683_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662701249235257026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-agPxoNNWKSA/TpX0xlby3SI/AAAAAAAACA8/KdVyrR_O2vY/s1600/304059_2247072029651_1633687051_2197047_1273746185_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-agPxoNNWKSA/TpX0xlby3SI/AAAAAAAACA8/KdVyrR_O2vY/s320/304059_2247072029651_1633687051_2197047_1273746185_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662701239187725602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6LQMt7W6flk/TpX0xCDWmTI/AAAAAAAACA0/x4Rm0fUcie8/s1600/298969_2249959821844_1633687051_2199047_1950121268_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6LQMt7W6flk/TpX0xCDWmTI/AAAAAAAACA0/x4Rm0fUcie8/s320/298969_2249959821844_1633687051_2199047_1950121268_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662701229689968946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tvYNKJyTcR8/TpX0wdQIQbI/AAAAAAAACAo/1bhiS21nYeE/s1600/Closeup%2BKamran.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 309px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tvYNKJyTcR8/TpX0wdQIQbI/AAAAAAAACAo/1bhiS21nYeE/s320/Closeup%2BKamran.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662701219811443122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IZPo9Q12OGY/TpX0wAqu3YI/AAAAAAAACAc/s18ZlrwwzTI/s1600/316347_2178311971509_1058173181_1978195_462795607_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IZPo9Q12OGY/TpX0wAqu3YI/AAAAAAAACAc/s18ZlrwwzTI/s320/316347_2178311971509_1058173181_1978195_462795607_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662701212138397058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-5565048897006664169?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/Vft04Na4GRk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5565048897006664169/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=5565048897006664169&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/5565048897006664169?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/5565048897006664169?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/Vft04Na4GRk/been-awhile-again.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YnYBDb1yJ6o/TpX10GIVwBI/AAAAAAAACBg/NeASxRbaNoQ/s72-c/313792_2247071669642_1633687051_2197046_1390902596_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/been-awhile-again.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEMRXw9eSp7ImA9WhdXE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-2521946661109375862</id><published>2011-08-26T08:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T08:51:24.261-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-26T08:51:24.261-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">How long has it been? Frankly I am way to lazy to look back and see. But I had a few people e mail me and ask where I was so I figured I better update with something. 
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Kids are in school now. I have a senior this year. Did you know Senior in Latin means expensive? Between photos, invitations, cap and gown, band gear (how many t-shirts does one kid need?), class rings, letterman jackets, and the million other things I am forgetting, I am broke. We had to get another car too. That has been both a blessing and a curse because I don't have to pick them up from band anymore. I admit I miss that sometimes but when it is 157 degrees outside, I get over it really quick.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Sara is 15 and apparently the translation for 15 is Bitches a lot and has an attitude. Who knew a little number could translate into something so long? She breaks and spills everything she touches...and looses things too. Got to work on my patience with her. 
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Zain and Zakary are doing great. They are enjoying school and I am soooooooooooo happy to have them out of the house. I danced the first day of school when the last one was gone. I am so thankful to have a quiet house. Zakary drove me nuts because he wants something to climb. It being so how, we could not go to the park, we have nothing in the yard so he took to climbing my walls. All the time. And he complained constantly. And he can't let things go when he is mad about something. And he is always mad about something. Seriously. I don't care how small it is, he will be mad for hours...usually until he is banished to his room because I just can't stand to hear him complain and argue with me about it. Seriously. He got mad one day because someone ate the last cookie. That went on for 4 hours. And you can try to reason with him and he will get the reasoning but he will still be mad. Please, someone tell me he will outgrow this. Lie if you need to because if this is truly his personality, I am so screwed in his teen years.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;My weight is good. I am at 96 pounds lost. I am able to maintain that with no problems and am still enjoying food. I look better and I feel better. 
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;I have a ton to do today but I will try to be better about updating. No promises though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-2521946661109375862?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/v6YJ2-nbSuI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2521946661109375862/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=2521946661109375862&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/2521946661109375862?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/2521946661109375862?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/v6YJ2-nbSuI/how-long-has-it-been-frankly-i-am-way.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/how-long-has-it-been-frankly-i-am-way.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAHQ3kyeCp7ImA9WhZVFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-3519558768798885099</id><published>2011-05-26T06:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T06:52:12.790-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-26T06:52:12.790-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">My husband was able to pick me up for the first time yesterday. I felt like a little kid. It was funny, exhilarating, and scary all at the same time and I had to keep an eye on him because he kept doing it all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5WQ-o3o2etQ/Td487-XRoTI/AAAAAAAAB90/T9w1_vH7LOM/s1600/DSCF4353.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5WQ-o3o2etQ/Td487-XRoTI/AAAAAAAAB90/T9w1_vH7LOM/s320/DSCF4353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610989186800787762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Zain from the night of his last concert of the year. We are waiting to see if he makes it into honors band next year. Keep your fingers crossed. I would have taken a lot more photos but about 10 minutes before the concert was over, Kamran started sending me texts and photos of the radar showing the tornado warning around us and I got the hell out of there as fast as I could. Kamran and Sara were home alone and although they are old enough to be alone, the thought of them without me during a tornado was in my mind. It was not bad at all even though the tornado sirens went off. See, most of my kids are like me. We were outside taking pictures of the rain and hail as the sirens went off. My neighbor facebooked that she was in the closet and I was like..."why? there was no actual tornado." When I was a kid, my Dad always took us outside to watch the storms up close and personal. I love storms and I think the worse they better...as long as no one is getting their property damaged or getting hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Zakary. He loves to watch tornadoes on TV and computer. He actually gets up watching the weather channel. He prefers it over cartoons. I had to show him how to get onto youtube.com so he could watch any time he wanted to. However, a thunderstorm has him huddled in the fetal position with his thumbs in his ears. Go figure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-3519558768798885099?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/p08CLfOMEDA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3519558768798885099/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=3519558768798885099&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/3519558768798885099?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/3519558768798885099?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/p08CLfOMEDA/my-husband-was-able-to-pick-me-up-for.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5WQ-o3o2etQ/Td487-XRoTI/AAAAAAAAB90/T9w1_vH7LOM/s72-c/DSCF4353.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-husband-was-able-to-pick-me-up-for.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMGRnw4fip7ImA9WhZVEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-1518917421850761934</id><published>2011-05-22T09:38:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T10:33:47.236-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-22T10:33:47.236-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Last night was my son and daughter's band banquet. This will have been our 3rd year in band and our third banquet. I always enjoy going but this year was really special because some of the kids I have known since Kamran was in 6th grade. The theme was Mambo so Sara dressed festive with a flower in her hair. Kamran looked dashing in his purple shirt and tie. Every year, the senior band kids read their wills, handing down to underclassmen items that have meant something to them over the years. Some are funny and some are sad and sweet. Kamran was will down a "flutes duet better" t-shirt from one young lady because she said he was always hanging around the flutes (girls) and was just a great and funny guy. Our neighbor handed down some baby keys to Kamran because they are always saying they are going to come over to each others house. Ray (the neighbor) said that now Kamran can come whenever he wants and keep an eye on his Mom, Dad, and cats while he was in college. That made me cry a little. The Senior drum major gave a truly beautiful speech, breaking down to cry several times. It had us all crying too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had several people stop and tell me how great I looked. One of the parents told me she heard some of the Moms talking about me. One of them asked someone else who I was, saying that she felt like she knew me but was not sure. That was a great compliment but the best was when one of the kids who I have known for 6 years told me I looked hot. I have always wanted to look hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also helped my niece get ready for her prom. Getting her to this point was tough. She is my husband's brother's sister and was brought up in Pakistan so she is very very modest to the point of being almost prudish. To add to it, she is a plus size girl so finding her a dress was not easy. She told me I am not allowed to post her photos on facebook because her Paki relatives would give her a very hard time but she does not know about this blog so I can post them here. Enjoy the photos from prom and banquet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HD_-iW9JPgM/TdkkTTC4P6I/AAAAAAAAB9M/y9tsUdqghM8/s1600/DSCF4240.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HD_-iW9JPgM/TdkkTTC4P6I/AAAAAAAAB9M/y9tsUdqghM8/s320/DSCF4240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609554724815126434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-78hBSWOT128/TdkkS6w3KKI/AAAAAAAAB9E/_8AWOQhBP5c/s1600/DSCF4230.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-78hBSWOT128/TdkkS6w3KKI/AAAAAAAAB9E/_8AWOQhBP5c/s320/DSCF4230.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609554718297106594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9WMEByim99k/TdkkSchqS0I/AAAAAAAAB88/mnzrfJIG-8c/s1600/DSCF4228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9WMEByim99k/TdkkSchqS0I/AAAAAAAAB88/mnzrfJIG-8c/s320/DSCF4228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609554710180285250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oDpUwFy-Epo/TdkkSP7-CrI/AAAAAAAAB80/3UtQflWSBfE/s1600/DSCF4227.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oDpUwFy-Epo/TdkkSP7-CrI/AAAAAAAAB80/3UtQflWSBfE/s320/DSCF4227.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609554706800970418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rFkrZWt_k0A/TdkkRhIFooI/AAAAAAAAB8s/3b42tJJ2_vs/s1600/DSCF4212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rFkrZWt_k0A/TdkkRhIFooI/AAAAAAAAB8s/3b42tJJ2_vs/s320/DSCF4212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609554694235333250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O7gWvJk1o08/TdkshE20uwI/AAAAAAAAB9s/j27td1XxXOM/s1600/DSCF4284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O7gWvJk1o08/TdkshE20uwI/AAAAAAAAB9s/j27td1XxXOM/s320/DSCF4284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609563757617658626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-21JTMa0IzSc/TdksAt1EgpI/AAAAAAAAB9k/lHmCedAl26I/s1600/DSCF4251.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-21JTMa0IzSc/TdksAt1EgpI/AAAAAAAAB9k/lHmCedAl26I/s320/DSCF4251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609563201680474770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2AcAAN2ZygA/TdksASFf4lI/AAAAAAAAB9c/qQvrM3dIzsk/s1600/DSCF4245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2AcAAN2ZygA/TdksASFf4lI/AAAAAAAAB9c/qQvrM3dIzsk/s320/DSCF4245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609563194233184850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RXPU2I9lJW4/TdkrYfi6NjI/AAAAAAAAB9U/nK5DCtknHCY/s1600/DSCF4243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RXPU2I9lJW4/TdkrYfi6NjI/AAAAAAAAB9U/nK5DCtknHCY/s320/DSCF4243.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609562510651438642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-1518917421850761934?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/2dSsxM7orGw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1518917421850761934/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=1518917421850761934&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/1518917421850761934?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/1518917421850761934?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/2dSsxM7orGw/last-night-was-my-son-and-daughters.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HD_-iW9JPgM/TdkkTTC4P6I/AAAAAAAAB9M/y9tsUdqghM8/s72-c/DSCF4240.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/last-night-was-my-son-and-daughters.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAASXo_eCp7ImA9WhZXGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-6083640418471855260</id><published>2011-05-08T18:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T18:35:48.440-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-08T18:35:48.440-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">We went swimming for the first time this summer. Ok, it is not summer yet but it is hot enough. I was lucky enough to find the perfect swim suit this morning. I have been looking for one for months and could not find anything that would hoist my saggy boobs up higher than my belly button. But this morning, there it was. At Walmart. For $32. My Mother's Day gift to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am going to do something I didn't think I would ever be brave enough to do. It will be 1 year since my &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.obesityhelp.com/forums/vsg/about_vertical_sleeve_gastrectomy.html"&gt;vertical sleeve surgery&lt;/a&gt; on June 9th. I have lost 90 pounds since then. I had hope to be a little lower but I am pleased with my results. I feel great and I look better than I have in years. I will be paying for this surgery for a few more years but it is the best money I have ever ever spent and I would do it again without a moments hesitation. So now to the thing I never thought I would do...I am posting my before pictures. Sara took these of me in a bathing suit the night before my surgery. I have not had the heart to look at them until today. Actually, I didn't like looking at me at all. Now, I love to take pictures and am always snapping a few when I am dressed for work. I don't post them all because people would think I was conceited but I keep them for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when we got back from swimming Sara  suggested that I take a few photos in my new suit. It got a little silly from there...but I decided to do a little before and after thing for you guys. Enjoy and I suggest not be eating when you view the before shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szWWBLy0LUw/TccoWG9rvkI/AAAAAAAAB8E/RZaziTLbXkA/s1600/007%2B%25282%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szWWBLy0LUw/TccoWG9rvkI/AAAAAAAAB8E/RZaziTLbXkA/s320/007%2B%25282%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604492621577436738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AvuKHL0bFAk/TccoWZPiEWI/AAAAAAAAB8M/Ylyr7ajeOhw/s1600/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AvuKHL0bFAk/TccoWZPiEWI/AAAAAAAAB8M/Ylyr7ajeOhw/s320/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604492626484138338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xva9bdsmMCI/TccoWpLTpoI/AAAAAAAAB8U/ApS4Bu8pxJE/s1600/DSCF4147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xva9bdsmMCI/TccoWpLTpoI/AAAAAAAAB8U/ApS4Bu8pxJE/s320/DSCF4147.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604492630761383554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ms_4W5OogL8/TccoW_PKvmI/AAAAAAAAB8c/eemqwGTns_Q/s1600/DSCF4150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ms_4W5OogL8/TccoW_PKvmI/AAAAAAAAB8c/eemqwGTns_Q/s320/DSCF4150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604492636683157090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oQUaWR0397Q/TccoXFO1leI/AAAAAAAAB8k/uZyNkk69GoA/s1600/DSCF4148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oQUaWR0397Q/TccoXFO1leI/AAAAAAAAB8k/uZyNkk69GoA/s320/DSCF4148.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604492638292383202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Please excuse my pale legs. They is what they is...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-6083640418471855260?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/r0trz4ig_L0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6083640418471855260/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=6083640418471855260&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/6083640418471855260?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/6083640418471855260?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/r0trz4ig_L0/we-went-swimming-for-first-time-this.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szWWBLy0LUw/TccoWG9rvkI/AAAAAAAAB8E/RZaziTLbXkA/s72-c/007%2B%25282%2529.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/we-went-swimming-for-first-time-this.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8CSHs9fSp7ImA9WhZXFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-3261523875764000354</id><published>2011-05-05T13:38:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T14:14:29.565-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-05T14:14:29.565-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">I am still at the job though I am looking for other jobs. I want to keep what I have just so I don't look like I can't keep a job. I worked 3 1/2 hours this week. Not worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another front, it is almost time for the end of the year band banquet and we have been working on finding nice clothes for cheap. Turns out I have a dress that I bought on clearance for $9 from Walmart a few months ago and it will be ...not perfect, but good enough. I found a dress at Ross today for Sara for under $20 and bought a flower to go in her hair. I bought Kamran a new dress shirt, vest, and tie for $30 and had to alter cause he is so damn skinny. He can wear the items again in the future for dances and concerts so I don't mind too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sara and I have also been trying out different hair styles for the banquet. Also, I was asked to do hair for a few people. Why people think I know how to do hair is beyond me but I stumbled across a great &lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://www.cutegirlshairstyles.com/"&gt;site Called Cute Girls Hairstyles. &lt;/a&gt; She shows you how do things that look quite complicated but are actually pretty easy. I have spent many hours looking at some of the wonderful ideas she has and have done a few for Sara's hair. I will post them below. The first 2 show how we will do Sara's hair for the dance. This took me less than 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GlWIn4mezgE/TcL0_33UuaI/AAAAAAAAB70/4RFAFcaUzC8/s1600/DSCF4042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GlWIn4mezgE/TcL0_33UuaI/AAAAAAAAB70/4RFAFcaUzC8/s320/DSCF4042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603310264567249314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8X9jVCD_2ec/TcL0_jEQmDI/AAAAAAAAB7s/waijZ9f-RHI/s1600/DSCF4043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8X9jVCD_2ec/TcL0_jEQmDI/AAAAAAAAB7s/waijZ9f-RHI/s320/DSCF4043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603310258984359986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m1VImNa9wPM/TcL0_dOiftI/AAAAAAAAB7k/xq5HbfKfSnI/s1600/DSCF4045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m1VImNa9wPM/TcL0_dOiftI/AAAAAAAAB7k/xq5HbfKfSnI/s320/DSCF4045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603310257416863442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fZm4xUqwdZA/TcL0cTQGJsI/AAAAAAAAB7c/xd9gX-qJYro/s1600/DSCF4048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fZm4xUqwdZA/TcL0cTQGJsI/AAAAAAAAB7c/xd9gX-qJYro/s320/DSCF4048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603309653443618498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NxnvBVwPGZ4/TcL0LClRr6I/AAAAAAAAB7U/Nu8UYkgsG_U/s1600/DSCF4049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NxnvBVwPGZ4/TcL0LClRr6I/AAAAAAAAB7U/Nu8UYkgsG_U/s320/DSCF4049.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603309356911275938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lFTFkGsRu4E/TcLz-yd_OkI/AAAAAAAAB7M/ovdKfbTskxw/s1600/DSCF4050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lFTFkGsRu4E/TcLz-yd_OkI/AAAAAAAAB7M/ovdKfbTskxw/s320/DSCF4050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603309146427308610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QPleQlxeLmw/TcLxhuoSbfI/AAAAAAAAB7E/zQayx7Q4-sM/s1600/DSCF4051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QPleQlxeLmw/TcLxhuoSbfI/AAAAAAAAB7E/zQayx7Q4-sM/s320/DSCF4051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603306448157306354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has so many more great designs that are simple to do. Check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On yet another front. One of my non scale victories when I started this weight loss journey was to wear skinny jeans. Today, I achieved that and in a size 14 to boot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lCoemPukvC8/TcL2cTKgrxI/AAAAAAAAB78/CthfxftUBFQ/s1600/DSCF4052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lCoemPukvC8/TcL2cTKgrxI/AAAAAAAAB78/CthfxftUBFQ/s320/DSCF4052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603311852443447058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-3261523875764000354?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/Ja2dVE9gurI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3261523875764000354/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=3261523875764000354&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/3261523875764000354?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/3261523875764000354?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/Ja2dVE9gurI/i-am-still-at-job-though-i-am-looking.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GlWIn4mezgE/TcL0_33UuaI/AAAAAAAAB70/4RFAFcaUzC8/s72-c/DSCF4042.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-am-still-at-job-though-i-am-looking.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcHRH4zfyp7ImA9WhZQGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-7855234515855907166</id><published>2011-04-26T14:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T15:00:35.087-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-26T15:00:35.087-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">I have been struggling with a decision for a while and finally made up my mind. Remember when I started my new job with LL as an assistant? Yeah, I am not happy there. At all. Now I don't want to just drop a job cause I am not happy. If we did that, none of us would be working right? But In the last 2 1/2 weeks I have worked a total of 2 1/2 hours. And I am owed for 16 hours I have not been paid for yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the thing that makes me want to move on is the way I feel working with her. I feel like a child. A child being gotten on to. I am told to do A,B,C in that order and then later asked my I did it like that, being told it is supposed to be A,C,B. I am expected to be able to know things that I have no way of knowing and when I miss something (that I have no way of knowing), I feel like I am being talked down to. There have been several incidents of this and yesterday way the one that decided it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not even worked but she e mailed me asking about an incident. She wrote several words in CAPS and it was all over something that I pointed out to her when it happened. The CAPS really pissed me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I could LOSE clients over stuff like this"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am sorry but we looked at that together and you told me to not worry about it. So I didn't. Not you are going to send me an e mail getting on to me with CAPS? Not cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told my husband and he said that it was okay, that I didn't have to work with her if I was unhappy. And I figure, since I am not actually working, it is not like I am losing anything by walking away. I have been applying at lots of places, hoping to find something that will work. I just hope I am doing the right thing. The next time I work, I plan to talk to her and let her know. I do plan to tell her that I need to find another job so that I can get more hours so that she will give me a good review if a potential employee calls her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-7855234515855907166?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/bodU0ciiHvM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7855234515855907166/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=7855234515855907166&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/7855234515855907166?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/7855234515855907166?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/bodU0ciiHvM/i-have-been-struggling-with-decision.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-have-been-struggling-with-decision.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkICRX09fSp7ImA9WhZRFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-101860835842305825</id><published>2011-04-12T21:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T21:09:24.365-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-12T21:09:24.365-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" href="http://celebs.icanhascheezburger.com/2011/04/12/funny-celebrity-pictures-snl-celebrity-jeopardy/?utm_source=feedburner&amp;amp;utm_medium=feed&amp;amp;utm_campaign=Feed%3A+ROFLrazzi+%28Lol+Celebrity+Pictures+-+ROFLrazzi%29"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; is, by far, the funniest skit SNL has ever done. The further down, the better. I watch this several times a year and always crack up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-101860835842305825?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/cK4aIS9C7Z0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/101860835842305825/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=101860835842305825&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/101860835842305825?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/101860835842305825?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/cK4aIS9C7Z0/this-is-by-far-funniest-skit-snl-has.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/this-is-by-far-funniest-skit-snl-has.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMBQns9fSp7ImA9WhZREkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-8368816291144431680</id><published>2011-04-07T17:08:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T17:14:13.565-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-07T17:14:13.565-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">You know those diet commercials where they have the before pic and then the person standing in their before pants after they lost weight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CdAAA4d5wlA/TZ42X8-FHEI/AAAAAAAAB6k/WqV3JmDIeDE/s1600/DSCF3558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CdAAA4d5wlA/TZ42X8-FHEI/AAAAAAAAB6k/WqV3JmDIeDE/s320/DSCF3558.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592967572372134978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice in this one below that I am standing in one leg of the pants!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ob1M6ZeRk30/TZ42XcqDOWI/AAAAAAAAB6c/Ex0Q6VzpenU/s1600/DSCF3568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ob1M6ZeRk30/TZ42XcqDOWI/AAAAAAAAB6c/Ex0Q6VzpenU/s320/DSCF3568.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592967563698190690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-360XX6jpOAg/TZ42XKT-pcI/AAAAAAAAB6U/u0SBJvL1HOc/s1600/DSCF3564.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-360XX6jpOAg/TZ42XKT-pcI/AAAAAAAAB6U/u0SBJvL1HOc/s320/DSCF3564.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592967558773777858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tag is still on these. Never even got to wear them but I am not complaining!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-8368816291144431680?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/pBCCwxESR6A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8368816291144431680/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=8368816291144431680&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/8368816291144431680?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/8368816291144431680?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/pBCCwxESR6A/you-know-those-diet-commercials-where.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CdAAA4d5wlA/TZ42X8-FHEI/AAAAAAAAB6k/WqV3JmDIeDE/s72-c/DSCF3558.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/you-know-those-diet-commercials-where.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IMRXoyeCp7ImA9WhZSFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-679257989776073739</id><published>2011-03-31T06:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T06:39:44.490-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-31T06:39:44.490-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">I set a goal for myself of losing 5 pounds by the end of this month. I met that goal this morning. 165. I am pretty proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have started running my own modified version of Couch to 5K. Really it is wind sprints. I started the C to 5K and then stopped because it was just too hard. Then one day when I went to the gym I got brave enough to try running on the tread mill. My balance is really really really bad and I have to hold on to something even when I am walking. I don't know how others do it without holding on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, when I tried, I was able to only about 20 seconds before I thought I would die. I did this 6 times in the 30 minutes I walked. Not much but it was something. I have worked myself up to 1 minute 6 times. One minute does not seem like much until you are running it. Then it is foreverrrrrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to see that increase soon. I also spend some time with the incline all the way up. My calves look bitchin. Well, for a fat chick with saggy skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;86 pounds gone. about 20 more to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, according to the BMI calculator, I am no longer obese, just overweight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurray for being overweight!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-679257989776073739?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/oqNpB0o5LhM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/679257989776073739/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=679257989776073739&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/679257989776073739?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/679257989776073739?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/oqNpB0o5LhM/i-set-goal-for-myself-of-losing-5.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-set-goal-for-myself-of-losing-5.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8HSXw7fyp7ImA9WhZSE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-8257715183015937517</id><published>2011-03-28T14:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T15:07:18.207-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-28T15:07:18.207-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">I have a quick minute before I start the picking up the kids run of the afternoon. I feel a little better than I did last week but that is most likely due to a drop in hormones (if you know what I mean) and my forgiving nature. My husband will learn eventually that going to be does not a problem disappear. I still feel the same way but have decided that there is not much I can do right now unless I want to walk out on my husband and kids...and I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, there will come a day when my kids will be grown and that may be an option I will take. I got really sad thinking about that but I think it is important to be honest with myself. I can not and will not live my old age alone and sad. I just wont.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also looking for a new job. Maybe a second job because I am still working for LL but there is not much work. Last week I worked 4 hours and this week it will be 3 1/2. That is almost not worth driving to the office. I need more and I am hoping to find something that will still let me work around the kids. Hubby can't understand why it is so hard for me to find a job. Who wants to employ someone from 9-3? Today I have to pick up 3 kids in different directions at 4. This was a last minute thing. What do I do if I have a job and have to work at that time? Do I kid my 6 year old a key and wish him luck? Do I tell Sara to walk the 7 miles home? Do I tell Zain to just spend the night at school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not lazy, I am a Mom and they have to come first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I finally lost some weight. The scale said 165.9 yesterday but it was 167 this morning. I am taking that as my number but my official weigh in day is Wednesday. After not losing for well over a month and a half, I am delighted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-8257715183015937517?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/skUMoflHJGo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8257715183015937517/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=8257715183015937517&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/8257715183015937517?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/8257715183015937517?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/skUMoflHJGo/i-have-quick-minute-before-i-start.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-have-quick-minute-before-i-start.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8CRHg5fip7ImA9WhZTGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-4334430737363180977</id><published>2011-03-22T09:04:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T09:24:25.626-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-22T09:24:25.626-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">I talked to a friend last night that I had not spoken to in some time. Maybe a year or so...Anyway, I am going to be rather blunt. Not because I am insensitive but because we are cool friends like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week she cracked up and lost it. She ended up trying to commit suicide and was committed to a hospital. I knew something was going on because I could see a lot of it on Facebook. It was not obvious but because I knew her so well, I knew something was up. But I had no idea it was that bad. I pretty much didn't call her because I knew I would want space right now if it had been me and I would not want to have to explain it to gawkers. I was trying to respect her space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as she was describing how her decent into madness started, I could hear a lot of what has been going on in my head. It scared me. What I am experiencing is mild anxiety. I think the depression is somewhat in check. Last week I was feeling really good but this week I am down and I think that is hormone related. Also, my family can be real asses. She urged me to start looking for a therapist. I am seriously thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also decided that my job is just not going to work out for me. There is simply not enough for me to do. She gives me one task at a time and when I finish, I have to ask what is next. I spend all way interrupting her asking what is next and I can tell that there is not much. I also feel like she is still having trouble letting go of some of the control. It is terribly uncomfortable just sitting there waiting for the next little thing. I even left early yesterday. So I am going to look around for something else that may be more reliable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://damnyouautocorrect.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;This is the funniest site I have seen in a long time&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/a&gt;..and that is saying something. This is the reason I am not thinking about getting an Iphone. And why is it that when an Iphone auto-corrects someones texts, it is with something highly inappropriate? Why have you not clicked the link above?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some other funnies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WvnT6zKnZZI/TYivCsl1KCI/AAAAAAAAB6M/_f40eYBLdOI/s1600/185651_10150101611002127_599052126_6632060_7424529_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WvnT6zKnZZI/TYivCsl1KCI/AAAAAAAAB6M/_f40eYBLdOI/s320/185651_10150101611002127_599052126_6632060_7424529_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907798617532450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lfIZrJx5vzQ/TYivCIB6WRI/AAAAAAAAB6E/IkwkLUK_KCw/s1600/demotivational-posters-dubstep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 292px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lfIZrJx5vzQ/TYivCIB6WRI/AAAAAAAAB6E/IkwkLUK_KCw/s320/demotivational-posters-dubstep.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907788803201298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nQf0pSZhDSg/TYivB-aaK_I/AAAAAAAAB58/eM8c_0TOrZM/s1600/f6afc0df-0cc4-4742-be52-427f7a3f9957.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nQf0pSZhDSg/TYivB-aaK_I/AAAAAAAAB58/eM8c_0TOrZM/s320/f6afc0df-0cc4-4742-be52-427f7a3f9957.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907786221595634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CXbIsfH1DuM/TYivBmzBPAI/AAAAAAAAB50/A3LY-CtxypQ/s1600/epic-win-photos-mute-button-win.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CXbIsfH1DuM/TYivBmzBPAI/AAAAAAAAB50/A3LY-CtxypQ/s320/epic-win-photos-mute-button-win.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907779882368002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QU9EQu5rEaw/TYivBEWUlKI/AAAAAAAAB5s/to4uy4GZ9Kk/s1600/28ea5d81-5a60-4697-b5e8-5b86d41869e6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 236px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QU9EQu5rEaw/TYivBEWUlKI/AAAAAAAAB5s/to4uy4GZ9Kk/s320/28ea5d81-5a60-4697-b5e8-5b86d41869e6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907770635195554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oLnQbqAltLg/TYiu4q--v1I/AAAAAAAAB5k/icERnrZR850/s1600/e132b110-ce82-4ef1-8a63-439f8743578a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oLnQbqAltLg/TYiu4q--v1I/AAAAAAAAB5k/icERnrZR850/s320/e132b110-ce82-4ef1-8a63-439f8743578a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907626387455826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C_JlKUqW5U4/TYiu4Jfo4_I/AAAAAAAAB5c/0Kjf10kanvw/s1600/1dc1c9f4-ef49-487c-b5e2-1b3d1edd851f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C_JlKUqW5U4/TYiu4Jfo4_I/AAAAAAAAB5c/0Kjf10kanvw/s320/1dc1c9f4-ef49-487c-b5e2-1b3d1edd851f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907617397629938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1RRlseu7Xtk/TYiu3_mGsSI/AAAAAAAAB5U/4wvY9NaXcRE/s1600/878ea098-0581-4d05-bcf9-5219b9707bed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1RRlseu7Xtk/TYiu3_mGsSI/AAAAAAAAB5U/4wvY9NaXcRE/s320/878ea098-0581-4d05-bcf9-5219b9707bed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907614740394274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XxkdZngOmTE/TYiu3isHjXI/AAAAAAAAB5M/WKvEMDMt9EI/s1600/demotivational-posters-pranks1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XxkdZngOmTE/TYiu3isHjXI/AAAAAAAAB5M/WKvEMDMt9EI/s320/demotivational-posters-pranks1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907606980988274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qW7JJ76Xb2c/TYiu3Ul0hTI/AAAAAAAAB5E/DicRkXMWX78/s1600/demotivational-posters-seriously.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 277px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qW7JJ76Xb2c/TYiu3Ul0hTI/AAAAAAAAB5E/DicRkXMWX78/s320/demotivational-posters-seriously.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586907603196478770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-4334430737363180977?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/rYTBfHwCtsg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4334430737363180977/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=4334430737363180977&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/4334430737363180977?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/4334430737363180977?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/rYTBfHwCtsg/i-talked-to-friend-last-night-that-i.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WvnT6zKnZZI/TYivCsl1KCI/AAAAAAAAB6M/_f40eYBLdOI/s72-c/185651_10150101611002127_599052126_6632060_7424529_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-talked-to-friend-last-night-that-i.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYFR3s9fCp7ImA9WhZTF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-2764228327402303963</id><published>2011-03-21T09:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T09:18:36.564-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-21T09:18:36.564-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">I am so frustrated. I can't find the right size bra. Or rather I can't find one that fits me. I have lost so much weight but am still wearing the same old bras. Same undies too but that is another post you don't really want to read. So I went to Lane Bryant and got measured and then tried on over 20 different bras in varying sizes and nothing. Then I went to Victoria's Secret. Same thing. I was also measured there and told I was a 38D. I have tried on more than 50 bras ranging from a 36D through a 40DDD. It either swims on me or my boob ends up pouring out from under my arm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone have any advice or know somewhere else I can go that may work for me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring Break is over and it was nice except by the time the last few days got here, the kids got on my nerves. Sometimes I am astounded by their selfishness. I also realized that I expect others to react to things they way I would and when I get on to my kids for things that they know better about, I expect them to look like (and sound like) they feel bad. Instead I get back talking about how come they are right or justified for their actions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of this comes from Kamran being rude when we were visiting the cousins the other night. When he was ready to go, he made sure I knew it and was rude about it. That got me mad because I basically spend my life waiting for the kids in some way. Waiting in the parking lot for them to get out of school, band practice, picking up from the mall, or their friends house. And I am expected to wait. Patiently because they have to say goodbye to their friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, when I am showing my niece something on the computer and it is taking a little longer that expected, too bad. And then Sara, sleeping in and then expecting me to drop everything to color her hair even though I told her she had to get up early and do a few things around the house first. And then arguing with me about why it was not that big of a deal. I have things to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then their is Hubby who really should not be too shocked if I leave him after the kids are gone. I have pretty much told him that. I get tired of being taken advantage of and being told rude things like "You don't do anything around here". Joke or not (and I don't believe it was a joke) it hurts. And I told him that I can not see my retirement being anything like life is for us now. He never talks and God forbid if I ask a question. He will literally pretend like I didn't speak. I have to ask things several times and I either get a one word answer, or I get some kind of joke answer. Either way it is not working for me. And I just think that is how he is because his relationship with the kids is much the same. Zakary doesn't see it because he is still young but the other 3...they talk to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad thing is that if the kids try to tell him any of this, or if I do, he accuses me of putting it in their heads. I tried to defend him for so long saying he was working hard but after watching him take all the kids out when his nieces and nephews come to visit in summer, after trying to get him to do the same with just our family, I can see him for what he is and so can his kids. I don't need to tell them anything. They are not blind. I just try to compensate being making sure I am there for the kids. He will be sorry in the long run. He just does not get it yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope he gets his head out of his ass in time. I really love him. I just know I want more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow that was dark. I guess I needed to get that out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-2764228327402303963?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/DBZdYyFgpvo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2764228327402303963/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=2764228327402303963&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/2764228327402303963?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/2764228327402303963?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/DBZdYyFgpvo/i-am-so-frustrated.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-am-so-frustrated.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMHRXs-fyp7ImA9WhZTEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-3865573191385955178</id><published>2011-03-13T12:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T13:20:34.557-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-13T13:20:34.557-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Grrr I am so frustrated with my weight. I am sitting at 170 even and have been for a while. Plateau I guess. I was reading somewhere that whatever your weight was around 18-20 is pretty much where your body is happy. Well I was around 170 so I guess this is my natural setting. But I am not happy here at all. I still want to drop at least another 20 pounds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I started tracking my calories and other intake. Doing this helps in a few ways. I actually know what my calories, fat, protein, sugar, carbs, etc are for the day and It makes me think twice before I put anything in my mouth. I look at every label before I eat and if there is no label, I look it up on Livestrong.com (which is also where I keep track of calories). I put in my date and it said in order for me to lose 2 pounds a week I would need to eat 1090 calories. I know that it is said that we need a minimum of 1200 to function but I know that to not be true because I survived just fine on 400-800 for months just after my surgery and lost weight. I was not tired except when my depression came back. But I do think that it is a good idea to get as many healthy calories in your body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the past 5 days I have been tracking and except for a tiny cheap here or there (that I counted) I have eaten very well. And I am full. But it is very rare for me to get anywhere near 1000. I tried so hard the last 2 days and I managed in the 800's. I also went to they gym for the lat 4 days and walk/sprinted for at least 30 minutes. I think a combo of too few calories (I know there are days when I get way less than 800) and my body being happy about where it is n terms of weight is the likely culprit for the stall.  So I have decided to keep my calories under 1000 for 5 to 6 days a week and then one or two to bump up to around 1500 if at all possible. I have also decided to sprint a lot more during my walks because that is supposed to be the most efficient way to do it. Run 30 seconds, walk 60. But I will tailor it to what my body is capable of doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can still eat well. I had a pizza for breakfast that I made out of thin whole wheat and flax bread topped with spinich, mushrooms, onions, black olives, and mozzarella cheese. It cost me 380 calories but it was gooooood and I will be walking as soon as it digests some. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am sure you guys are super excited to hear about my boring eating habits and all. I just want them down for me to read if I need to. There is not too much going on in my life except spring break for the kids. My boss has given me the whole week off to be with them. We plan on going to the zoo on Wednesday and I plan of making them do some serious cleaning this week too. Oh, and I also got a new fence put in. We finally found someone reliable, hard working, honest, and good at building fences. It took him 4 days to do it by himself but he went above and beyond in my opinion. It looks great and his quote was $500 less than every other quote for a better fence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-3865573191385955178?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/7w7qAAq8bZI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3865573191385955178/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=3865573191385955178&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/3865573191385955178?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/3865573191385955178?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/7w7qAAq8bZI/grrr-i-am-so-frustrated-with-my-weight.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/grrr-i-am-so-frustrated-with-my-weight.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4ER3k_cSp7ImA9Wx9aFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-2768306511159190953</id><published>2011-03-08T06:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T06:38:26.749-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-08T06:38:26.749-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">My husband insists on finding the cheapest laborer for anything that needs fixin. And while I appreciate and understand the need to save money, There is that old sayin "the cheap comes out cheaper". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago he found someone to come fix the rather large leak at the main shut off for the sprinkler system. The guy told him it would take about 2 hours and that he charges $30 and hour. The last estimate we got was $600. I was suspicious. But the guy came and started digging to access the leak. When it was mostly exposed, I came out to have a look. The guy, whom I will call idiot, said there was no leak even though he had just scooped out about 20 gallons from the hole. Of course I questioned him and found him to be very rude. He talked to me like I am stupid and I assure you, when it comes to fixing things, I know enough to get by and I know water ='s a leak. He then asks us to turn on different sections of the system and I question him about it but eventually do it. I tried to explain to him that the system has many broken sprinklers so there was little point in turning on the system but I thought maybe he knew something I didn't. After about 30 minutes of him digging up holes around the sprinkler head that were leaking (I already knew about them and told him that), I pulled my husband aside and told him idiot was an idiot and was going to try and jack up the price not to mention he was digging holes all over my yard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited a few more minutes as I watched him digging up my front yard around a head that I told him was snapped off in the ground and that I knew about it. Finally I had had it and told him I didn't want to whole system fixed because I don't use it. Too many issues and constant breaks. I just wanted the leak at the main fixed because I could not afford to have him fix everything for a system I don't even use. He then tried to tell me the leak was from the sprinkler head in the yard. How can that be then the ground is not wet around the sprinkler head but there is a pool in the main? How can that be when the main still leaks when the system is shut off? How can that be when I never run the damn thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did not like my questions at all and got mad and swore there was no leak even though the main was again filling up with water. I guess the water was a gift from Heaven sent by way of miracle. So he told me there was no leak and that was his diagnosis and he was leaving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby watched all this in silence until the guy headed toward his car. He asked if the guy intended on leaving the huge hole he dug but I said I would fill it in myself along with all the other holes he left in my yard. He left without being paid and that was fine with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate when men try to get one over on me because I am a woman (and that is what he was doing). My Dad taught me a lot about things and I have the gift of common sense. So today I will be trying to fix the leak myself since idiot was nice enough to dig the hole for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idiot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. If I was idiot I would have driven back last night and filled the hole back in. Ya know, just for spite. But that is just me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for reading this very exciting story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-2768306511159190953?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/-ZRhKWlbPnc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2768306511159190953/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=2768306511159190953&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/2768306511159190953?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/2768306511159190953?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/-ZRhKWlbPnc/my-husband-insists-on-finding-cheapest.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-husband-insists-on-finding-cheapest.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MGRnszeyp7ImA9Wx9aFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-7631497186642560854</id><published>2011-03-07T11:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T12:10:27.583-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-07T12:10:27.583-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Been a few days. My depression medication is definitely working for me otherwise I would be huddle in the fetal position in the corner of my room instead of updating this site. Money money money. I am stressed. Everything is breaking and we have to get these things fixed. I have come to the realization that we can not afford this large home anymore. I have mentioned to hubby about moving back to the old house which is almost paid off. The carrying costs are so much less than this home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The issue is that his family lives there and I don't think that they can find a home to rent or buy. I can't understand why his brother does not look for a better job. He had a decent job in Pakistan but here he is working for Lowes. I don't want to be responsible for their housing anymore than I have to be. I want to sell this big house and move back to my almost paid off one. I don't think we will be able to make any money because the value is not much more than what we bought it for. the highway going in deal not help. I checked the home sales in the area and I don't feel good about what we can list the home for. Also, I would have to change Zak and Zain's school again. I don't feel good about that at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so sick of worrying about money though. We need a new fence, new heater/ac, major sprinkler system repairs (who knew they broke so much) not to mentioned all the things that need to be fixed at the old home. I am going to try to talk to my hubby when we have some time to hash is out. He gets getting mad about me spending money but he forgets that I am paying $1000 a month extra for second house mortgage, at least $100 more a month for water bill, and $320 a year for HOA. I do all this on less than he brought in when we moved in this home. I say that is pretty damn good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did spend a little money this weekend though. There is this dress shop that was closing forever and this was their last weekend. I bought Sara and my Niece a dress each that was $200 each for $30 each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0L-qXocd8GM/TXUe9x7ZltI/AAAAAAAAB48/w362eFjKa6I/s1600/184365_1742307489794_1601920574_1647278_2666604_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0L-qXocd8GM/TXUe9x7ZltI/AAAAAAAAB48/w362eFjKa6I/s320/184365_1742307489794_1601920574_1647278_2666604_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581401359918929618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby does not quite get why I bought it but any Mom who has had to purchase a gown for prom or a ball knows what a deal I got. I also sent E over to get one too knowing she wears the same size as Sara....so Sara has two dresses to choose from. The one I bought her was so very pretty and fit like a glove. She did throw a mini fit because she wanted 2 more that were $50 a piece and though they were beautiful and she looked great, I had to draw the line somewhere. After filling my gas tank for over $50 this morning, I am glad I didn't get them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-7631497186642560854?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/gVl2XdAKLqw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7631497186642560854/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=7631497186642560854&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/7631497186642560854?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/7631497186642560854?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/gVl2XdAKLqw/been-few-days.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0L-qXocd8GM/TXUe9x7ZltI/AAAAAAAAB48/w362eFjKa6I/s72-c/184365_1742307489794_1601920574_1647278_2666604_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/been-few-days.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEAHSX87fSp7ImA9Wx9bF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-6037910505415097726</id><published>2011-02-26T08:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T09:05:38.105-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-26T09:05:38.105-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">As of today (or actually a few days ago because i am late posting this) my BMI is now 29.9. That means that I am no longer obese. I am simply overweight!!! I never thought I would be happy just overweight but I am. It is a huge goal for me and it has taken a long time to reach it. It took me over 2 months to lose the last 10 pound for good. I tried to be patient and not get discouraged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put on a size 14 pants for the first time the other day. I would not wear them in public yet because when I sat down, my fat rolled out of the top like a can of biscuits popping open in a hot car but I could get them on a zip them up. I remember standing there in the fitting room thinking that there was no way I would be able to get them on but I did :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had such a nice day yesterday at work. I thought is was going to be a bad one but I think my boss has decided that I am going to work out after all. I saw an e mail she was sending to herself. More of a to do list. It said that she needed to announce me to her clients since it has been two weeks. That she wanted to wait and see if I worked out. I guess I am official and I should order business cards then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is usually very quiet too but we actually chatted a bit. I told her it was good to get a chance to get to know her on a more personal level. When I got home her facebook status was that she was very happy and was not sure why. I commented that it was me. She replied that I was a big part of it because I had saved her over 20 hours of extra work this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And best of all, I have a little extra to buy the kids shoes this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-6037910505415097726?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/ysZsaUDI4uQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6037910505415097726/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=6037910505415097726&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/6037910505415097726?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/6037910505415097726?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/ysZsaUDI4uQ/as-of-today-or-actually-few-days-ago.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/as-of-today-or-actually-few-days-ago.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4FRng6fyp7ImA9Wx9bE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-8664748160288951919</id><published>2011-02-22T06:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T06:31:57.617-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-22T06:31:57.617-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">One of my weight loss main goals was to weigh less than my husband...skinny bastard. So when I stepped on the scale and it said 173 I knew I was there. I could tell it bothered him too. Made it all that much better. Then the jerk went and lost more weight. He was 168 the other day. So now I have to catch up to him again. This morning I was at 170.0. You can't imagine how happy that makes me. I will be seeing 169 really soon. I can't even remember the last time I was anywhere near that number. I think about 17 years ago. 81 pounds lost in 8 1/2 months. The progress is very slow sometimes but it is in the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since I have been taking my antidepressants, I feel better. I feel a little more in control, especially at work. I have been able to take a deep breath and relax some. I have been working really hard on Zakary and the recent issues we have had and so far, he is doing fabulously. He is certainly trying and that makes me proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still need a new fence. Can't find anyone we trust to do it correctly for a decent price. Husband wanted to pound holes in the side of my house to reattach a piece of wood for a temp fence and I would not let him do that. Knocking holes in the side of the house would just create new issues down the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kamran is signing up to take the ACT and eventually the SAT and Sara is taking credit recovery because of a 68 last semester in bio AP. Husband was a bit mad about her having to do it but I told him she was already grounded for the failed grade, that it was done and gone, no sense in getting mad about that. I told him that I am always telling the kids that if they make a mistake, they need to fix it as soon as possible and that she did that so we can't be mad at her. What is all means is driving to pick her up from school for 3 days a week for 3 or so weeks. But when she is finished, that 68 will be higher. I hate driving up to the school after 4. The drive back can sometimes take 3 times longer. There are no short cuts through construction anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-8664748160288951919?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/jlfN_Y993Ls" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8664748160288951919/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=8664748160288951919&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/8664748160288951919?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/8664748160288951919?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/jlfN_Y993Ls/one-of-my-weight-loss-main-goals-was-to.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/one-of-my-weight-loss-main-goals-was-to.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYGSXkyfSp7ImA9Wx9bEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-7244648031553809684</id><published>2011-02-20T07:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T08:28:48.795-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-20T08:28:48.795-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">What a stressful end of the week I had. I worried and worried about Zakary. On Friday the counselor called him in to talk. I have no idea what was said other than what Zak told me...and you know how great 6 year olds are with details...This is because the counselor didn't bother to send me a note, e mail, or call. The only things that came home was a manila envelope with a handout listing 4 different techniques he can use to calm down. While that is great and all, I would have loved to hear from her in some way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we talk about the techniques and choose which one he thought would work best. It is called the balloon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The breath Balloon&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1. When in a stressful  situation and feel yourself beginning to get stressed, exhale completely  while sighing audibly and do not inhale for a few seconds. Release any  tightness you feel in your face, jaw, neck, shoulders, head, back, chest  and belly. As you breathe in through your nostrils, imagine that you  are filling a balloon up from the bottom. (The balloon is actually your  lower stomach)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2. Imagine the balloon is your favourite color or  any color that soothes and calms you and see the balloon slowly growing  as you inhale. As you inhale, you should begin to feel calmer due to the  oxygen revitalising your body and muscles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3. Once you have  inhaled fully, hold it for a second and then slowly release the air  counting down from 7 as you do so. See the balloon slowly deflating as  you release your breath and once you have fully exhaled hold it for 1  second and then begin the process all over again. Do this process as  many times as you like or until you feel calm and in control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This  technique can help you in awkward situations such as business meetings,  the waiting time before a speech or when you are about to walk into the  interview room, and in time once you have mastered it, you will find  that stress no longer controls you because the power has shifted in your  favor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I am trying to help him feel in as much control of this process of possible. I think this helps some. We had a few opportunities to use the technique though nothing serious to really test it out until later that evening. We went to visit my husband's family for dinner and he did not want to leave. Actually he wanted to stay the night and the answer was a no. I explained the answer calmly and he started getting a bit worked up so I used out signal for calming down "Balloon time". He was not interested in that. He only wanted to tell me off. "I am mad at you", and "I hate you" came out of his mouth. I asked him what we had decided about saying I hate you and he remembered that it was not allowed. He back tracked to I am mad which is sort of okay because those are his feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remained calm and thought he was mad, he was rather calm to. It was almost funny because he would say I am not going with you!" and I would tell him to put his shoes on and he would. Then he would repeat and I would say okay lets get in the car and he would. All the while complaining. But he was calm I when we got in the car and drove he reminded me he was mad and that I should have let him have a sleep over, I told him that my answer was no and was not going to change. That sometimes, the answer is just no and this was one of those times and that I was so terribly proud of him tonight because he did such a great job of keeping his temper and expressing his feelings in a much calmer way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did tell me that he wanted to lose his temper (meaning in the car right then) and how would I like that. I told him that I hoped that would not happen as he had such a great day but that if it did, it would be his choice to make. I reminded him that there would be consequences too. That was pretty much the end of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first visit I can remember that did not end in him throwing a fit of some sort so I am pleased as punch. Do I think it will always be like that? Hell no but it is a great start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is also pleased with himself and has begun learning his multiplication table. He memorized 3's yesterday and is super excited to move on the 4's today. He could not seem to remember when the 3's were on paper, but me telling him seemed to work so I think he works best by hearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told his teacher about how he told me he was not challenged enough (his words) in school and we are working to modify his work to better suit him. I am glad he has a teacher who listens to us. Zain didn't and he spend kg doing bulletin boards and such for the teacher because he was the only kid that could read on a much higher level. I didn't realize then how unchallenged he was because he never complained about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been doing better at work too and telling myself positive things. Also, my welbutrin is started to kick in and that helps a lot. My husband got a bonus and though it is nice to have a little extra, he have to put a new fence in asap and all the estimated are way over what his bonus is so that sucks pond water. He is working mad overtime though. If anyone in the Dallas area know of a good, honest, and cheap fence dude, send me a message.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-7244648031553809684?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/a5m3_-rams8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7244648031553809684/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=7244648031553809684&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/7244648031553809684?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/7244648031553809684?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/a5m3_-rams8/what-stressful-end-of-week-i-had.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-stressful-end-of-week-i-had.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYFQHo-eip7ImA9Wx9UGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-5442516505288445119</id><published>2011-02-17T16:06:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T16:35:11.452-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-17T16:35:11.452-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Zakary's teacher called me yesterday. I missed the call because there is no signal at work thanks to the lake and I did not realize she called until this morning. Apparently Zak had a major meltdown because he had to move his clip down (their reward system). He did all the normal fit things and told her he was mad at her and would not calm down  for a long time. I warned her this might happen and she said she didn't believe me until yesterday. He is always the more well behaved kid in the class and has never had his clip lowered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been having issues at home too. He had a fit of all fits the night before this happened in school. It was a nasty one. He told me he hated me and that I was a bad mom and no one would ever love me again. He said other things and I ended up sending him to bed early. This was all due to having to wait for an after dinner snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think he does not know what to do with his anger. It takes forever for him to calm and you can not reason with him until then. When I talk to him after his melt downs, he often tells me he forgot ( when reminding him what is not acceptable). He is not a kid who lies so I am wondering is he is just flying into a rage and really blocks everything else out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked him up from school and we sat in the car and talked about what was going on. I asked him why he got mad and he said because he would be in trouble when he got home. I asked how his behavior worked out. He said bad. I told him that everyone has a bad day sometimes and getting your clip moved down was not the end of the world. We role played as if he had come home and told me his clip was moved down and after I explained that while there would have been some minor consequence, I would not have been very mad. Because of the way he chose to act, he made it much much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked about how he feels when he gets angry. He said uncomfortable. I asked him if throwing a fit makes him feel better and he said sometimes. I asked him if he was ever sorry after and he said he was, though he was still mad at his teacher for moving his clip. I again told him that by the way he reacted that he made a little trouble into a big trouble and that we had to figure a way to help him learn to calm down and listen to the people who are there to help him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He told me that he was afraid that when people were mad at him that they did not love him anymore. I asked him if he still loved me even when he was mad at me. I told him I would love him no matter what and that his teacher loves him too. He came up with the idea to try breathing and counting when he was angry and I told him I would count with him and then we would discuss what to do after that. I also had to tell him that he can not always have what he wants. Then I told him that his actions yesterday had consequences and that he was grounded from video games until Monday. He started to get angry and told me he hated me. I was able to quickly talk him down and then we address the whole "I hate you" thing. I told him that sometimes you say  mean thing to people and that it hurts them. I told him that when he tells me he hates me that it hurts. I asked him how he would feel if I told him that. I told him I was not allowing things like that said in my house anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow or Monday the counselor will pull him out of class to talk to him. I told him this so he would not freak when it happened. He was very upset and started to tear up. He was worried she would be mad and he would be in more trouble. I explained to him that her job was to help him and that she cares about him. She would not yell and there would be no more trouble and she would just talk to him about things and maybe she could help us with more ideas for controlling his anger. I think he is okay with it now. He did tell me before this that he does not want to go to school anymore. Partly from his still being mad at his teacher and partly because he says school is boring. The work is not challenging enough for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says he wants to learn multiplication and addition of bigger numbers. Last week he tested for the gifted program and I got the call back for additional testing which means he passed the first round. I am proud of him for that but worried about his temper and anger issues. I know that an angry child can grow into an angry adult and that is much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wondering what we are doing at home to create this problem. I used to have anger issues but learned to control them before he was born so he has not really seen anything from me that I am aware of. He has older brothers and a sister who do fight sometimes but really it is not bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all hurts my heart very much. I only want the best for my kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-5442516505288445119?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/wrfHZxYstbE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5442516505288445119/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=5442516505288445119&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/5442516505288445119?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/5442516505288445119?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/wrfHZxYstbE/zakarys-teacher-called-me-yesterday.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/zakarys-teacher-called-me-yesterday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkANQHk5fSp7ImA9Wx9UGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-7434412988595747626</id><published>2011-02-16T06:48:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T09:06:31.725-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-16T09:06:31.725-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Man has life been a struggle lately. We get hit and then catch a break only to get hit again. It is draining me very much. My  mind has been working over time and my emotions are very raw. The biggest issue now is money. Now I know everyone struggles with money issues. It is apparently the American way but we are struggling way more than usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have several bills that I have had to wait on paying and the mortgage was really hard to scrap together this month. I went to the store yesterday to get some much needed groceries and my debit card was denied. I had $40 in the account. I had deposited my work checks totaling $170 but they had not cleared yet. I have to wait until after the 18th to pay everything due at the end of the month and then start over again. My husband gets a profit sharing check this month but we have to replace our fence to the tune of $3,000-$5,000. We can't wait any longer on it. Thanks to the ice storm we are missing sections of it. I have small unpaid medical bills that I send $20 at a time to just to show I am trying but they have gone into collections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am drowning in the stress of it all. My husband has started working as much overtime as he can but he looks sooooo tired. It breaks my heart that he has to do this. I know it is a lot harder for him then when he was younger. He told me yesterday he was tired, and he didn't mean "boy I need a nap". He meant bone weary tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been working for about 3 weeks now and I realized something major about myself. The third I worked my boss came in and closed the door. I knew something was up. She had a bit of an issue with the way I answered her the day before on something. I thought she may have taken that wrong when I was thinking about the day that night. To her it was more like a hand in the face. I meant it to be "I know I  made a mistake and I already took care of it because I am on it and want to impress you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we had a chat and I am so glad we did. I was able to tell her how terribly nervous I was working for her because I was a bit intimidated by her and wanted to impress her so much. I even started crying a little. That was embarrassing. Anyway we talked it out and things were and are better. I am slowing down and asking more questions and she is being patient and explaining how she wants things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later when I was driving home, I was thinking through everything that happened. I came to a realization that I  may have anxiety issues. I am intimidated by women in positions of power.  Especially if they are in a position of power over me. This, I was able to pinpoint, is because of the abuse I suffered at my Mother's hands when I was a child. I spent every moment in some state of fear and terror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result, I avoid things that would put me in that position. At least I have been able to because I have been a stay at home Mom. I had my own world and I could choose if I wanted to put myself in those positions by volunteering. And I believe it is anxiety because at this moment I am thinking about work, I have to leave for it soon, and my heart rate has sped up and I am feeling like I have too much caffeine. I am terribly nervous and there really is no reason to be. This is not normal. One side of my mind is telling me to calm down, that I will be fine. The other side is trying to talk me out of working. Not normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am seriously thinking about seeing a therapist but the money issue and explaining all this to my husband has me unsure of what to do next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to get dressed for work but I will post more later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-7434412988595747626?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/iM4s17hgELU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7434412988595747626/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=7434412988595747626&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/7434412988595747626?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/7434412988595747626?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/iM4s17hgELU/man-has-life-been-struggle-lately.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/man-has-life-been-struggle-lately.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcMR3gzfCp7ImA9Wx9UEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-5396139670865769075</id><published>2011-02-08T08:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T08:41:26.684-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-08T08:41:26.684-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">So I went to work yesterday. LL Has a nice office overlooking the lake. Most people have a cubicle. Overlooking the lake means you are one of the big dogs. However, over looking the lake also means it is as cold as my ass on a cold winters morning. I froze. Literally. I came home early cause she had a meeting and ended up huddled under blankets shivering because the cold had set up in the core of my body. She has a heater but it is not enough. I want to bring one of mine but I am not sure there is anywhere to plug it in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money is very very very tight lately. I had to buy a few clothes because I had nothing but sweat pants to wear. I purchased 2 shirts and a pair of pants along with a sweater to keep warm. I also had another sweater and a skirt but I returned them. Didn't like the way they look on me and needed the money more. So I have been wearing the same pants every day. I was planning on shopping the consignment and resale shops today but LL asked me to come in today because the weather will be bad tomorrow. I am also going to try and take in a few of my older clothing and see if I can get any extra wear out of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has only been 2 days of work but I feel the old frustration I used to feel when I worked with her. I don't feel like I am doing much. I hope that changes. Also, I have that stupid little voice that likes to tell me that LL will think I am stupid and will likely fire me soon. Why can't that voice just shut the hell up? Funny thing is that I know I can do this. It will take me a little while to learn all that she needs of me and she is very particular about how she does things but I know I can do it. I wish I was a little more comfortable with her though. Some of that is me but a great deal of it is her. Or maybe it is me...no, not all me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it feels good having a job. My husband is finally starting to work more overtime. What he makes without the overtime is not enough for us to make ends meet. I hate that he has to do it and I mentioned me trying to find another part time job on Sat and Sun but he thinks that is a bad idea. I do to but we have to do what we have to do right? But we both decided it made more sense for him to work one extra day of overtime and for me to be home with the kids on the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I think he got the better part of the deal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-5396139670865769075?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/F-yBVh1rxso" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5396139670865769075/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=5396139670865769075&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/5396139670865769075?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/5396139670865769075?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/F-yBVh1rxso/so-i-went-to-work-yesterday.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/so-i-went-to-work-yesterday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUNRX4_eyp7ImA9Wx9VF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-6662216496551465682</id><published>2011-02-03T11:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T11:14:54.043-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-03T11:14:54.043-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Day 3 of the great ice in and I am ready to chew my own arms off just to get out of the house. Kamran and hubby are sick though I think hubby is really hamming it up. We have no working central heat down stairs and have been relying on space heaters. They have managed to keep it about 66 down here but if we turn them off, I can't imagine the heat will ever be able to get that high if we were to turn them on later so I sleep down stairs on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not slept in days. I miss my bed. My husband would offer to sleep down stairs but the last time he did that, he claimed it was not that cold when I found the heaters all off the next morning and the living room at 59 degrees. He does not get the concept that a 6 year will be a billion times more difficult to get ready for school when he is very cold. Dumb ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started my job last Friday and have not been back yet. I have to cross a 1 mile bridge over a lake and up a big hill to get to the office. Not safe. I like it but am terribly uncomfortable with my boss at times. She is the type that I just can't have a conversations with. You know how you say something and then the other person responds. And then they say something and you respond? Yeah, Not with her. I say something and I get a one word response. I am not the only person who noticed that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the type of person who can not sit in a quiet room without talking. It feels way too uncomfortable. I feel like there is a scary silence that needs to be filled. When I was a kid, quiet was very very bad. That is why I always have the TV on even if I am not watching. The noise comforts me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I will make it work. I think eventually I will tell her the whole silence thing so she does not think me a nut. I am very confident I can do the job though I do have some fears and I was very up front with her about them. I asked her to be patient with me and I will learn to do things the way she likes them and even eventually to anticipate her needs in the future. That is what a good assistant does right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are expecting more snow tonight. I may not be able to make it to work tomorrow either. That would suck cause I really need the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-6662216496551465682?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/-y-r3i6UYHs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6662216496551465682/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=6662216496551465682&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/6662216496551465682?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/6662216496551465682?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/-y-r3i6UYHs/day-3-of-great-ice-in-and-i-am-ready-to.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-3-of-great-ice-in-and-i-am-ready-to.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AGQnYzeip7ImA9Wx9VEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13391686.post-3229700821801274125</id><published>2011-01-28T07:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T07:35:23.882-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-28T07:35:23.882-06:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">What a crazy few days. I have been working hard doing yoga (which is killing my weak back) and running in place in my living room as well as lifting weights. If you will all remember, I have been stuck at 177 for many many weeks and was starting to think that that may just have to be a number I would have to accept. When I decided on surgery, I was asked to make goals, both long and short term and number one on  my long list was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to weigh less than my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His weight stays around 170-175 depending on whether or not he is smoking. Don't get me started on the smoking thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday I stepped on the scale and was greeted with 175 even. I was pleased. And then this morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;174 even! I made hubby step on the scale and he came in at 175.2. IN YOUR FACE!!! Of course he was wearing a heavy sweater so I requested that we both get naked and step on again. He refused...the big sissy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to my next big news. I got a job yesterday. It was the job I was hoping for and on paper it seems perfect in every way. I will be working for the lady who got me into Real Estate in the first place. We will call her LL for the future. I worked for LL before I got my license as her assistant but it did not work out at the time. It is very hard to train someone when you have no time to stop and do it. But now that I have some experience under my belt, and she is in desperate need of help, the time is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called yesterday and asked me to lunch and I kind of knew what she wanted. She has been busy and I have been watching her drown in work. We worked out a deal where I will work 3 days a week, Mon, Wed, Fri, from 10-3. Perfect for me. She know about my commitment with the kids and will be very flexible as far as that goes. I will be making more per hour than I would if I ended up at a Walmart type place and she now has a private office and a desk just for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I will need to dress nice and after trying on my clothes last night, Sara and I both agree, I have nothing. Everything that was my "Well, I can always wear that cause it will fit for several sizes" was huge on me. So I had to go out this morning and grab a few things. Black pants, skirt, sweater, and tank top. I have a few shirts of color and that will have to work for now. Best thing is that instead of XL shirts and 18 pants, I had to buy L and 16's!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus my husband's stock did fabulous yesterday and I finally got a hair cut. So now I am going to get dressed for work *giggle* and go make some money.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13391686-3229700821801274125?l=chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~4/MIcJI8i-HVM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3229700821801274125/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13391686&amp;postID=3229700821801274125&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/3229700821801274125?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13391686/posts/default/3229700821801274125?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ChroniclesOfAnExhaustedMom/~3/MIcJI8i-HVM/what-crazy-few-days.html" title="" /><author><name>Zephra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04036187147036400140</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aiyFn-1U2RQ/SL28aqgdP4I/AAAAAAAAAoU/pu_Zh4UiBd8/S220/pic.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chroniclesofanexhaustedmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-crazy-few-days.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

