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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMFQHgycSp7ImA9WxNUF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579</id><updated>2009-11-08T14:56:51.699-07:00</updated><title>Memoirs of a Mommy</title><subtitle type="html">If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/" /><link rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>420</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/memoirsofamommyblog" type="application/atom+xml" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UEQ3c9fSp7ImA9WxNUFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-8270592840903162486</id><published>2009-11-07T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T16:06:42.965-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-07T16:06:42.965-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Noah's Adventure" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Swine Flu" /><title>Our Swine Flu Vaccine Journey</title><content type="html">I posted the story of how Noah finally got his H1N1 shot over at &lt;a href="http://www.noahsadventure.com/"&gt;Noah's Adventure&lt;/a&gt;. For those of you who are kind enough to read both my blogs (thanks Mom!), I won't double post.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For those of you who don't, please &lt;a href="http://www.noahsadventure.com/2009/11/swine-flu-vaccine-journey.html"&gt;go check it out.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; border: medium none;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-8270592840903162486?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/ctOTQ9sx388" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/8270592840903162486/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=8270592840903162486&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8270592840903162486?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8270592840903162486?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/ctOTQ9sx388/our-swine-flu-vaccine-journey.html" title="Our Swine Flu Vaccine Journey" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/11/our-swine-flu-vaccine-journey.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUANRHwycCp7ImA9WxNUEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-2633763072972785321</id><published>2009-11-02T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T22:56:35.298-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-02T22:56:35.298-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Opinion" /><title>The Pain in Pop Culture</title><content type="html">I am painfully aware of many of the more important topics that I could devote a blog post to right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have a thought (which is rare and hard to come by these days) so I am going to share it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched the Kate: Her Story interview this evening. It made me sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a woman sitting there. Alone and sad. A woman who has made mistakes, continues to make mistakes (but don't we all?). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not judging. I'm not in her shoes nor do I have all the information to try and form an opinion.  &lt;br /&gt;But what I see is a woman, a mother, sad and heart broken. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made my heart hurt for her. For her share of the responsibility of current events. For the things she had no control over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me sad to see any marriage fail. It makes me sad to see anybody hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any cool or insightful thing to say. A lesson shared or point of view explained. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just made me sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-2633763072972785321?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/j5ImsWpov2U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/2633763072972785321/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=2633763072972785321&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/2633763072972785321?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/2633763072972785321?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/j5ImsWpov2U/pain-in-pop-culture.html" title="The Pain in Pop Culture" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/11/pain-in-pop-culture.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQBSHk9cCp7ImA9WxNVGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-8272365952440703402</id><published>2009-10-30T00:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T00:32:39.768-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-30T00:32:39.768-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy Birthday" /><title>A Good Friend Is Worth Their Weight In Cheesecake</title><content type="html">I've never been one to have many friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could come up with a whole slew of reasons but what it just comes down to is loyalty. I guess I always found it easier to be fiercely loyal to your friends when you didn't have a million of them. Don't get me wrong, I have many friends. But close, dear, sisterhood friends... Well, those numbers are few. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when you have friends like I do, it doesn't matter if there is 1 or 100. Let me explain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my dearest friends ever is Jen. We met when I transferred to Orem and was working with her Husband Gary. The first time I met her was at our store Christmas Party. We were all out in the living room and kitchen eating and playing games. She was stuck in her bedroom with a broken leg. Serious enough to have needed surgery. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I didn't really meet her then, I just heard her voice. But I digress. &lt;br /&gt;When I transferred back to Murray and a position opened up for an additional Tech (I was a phone technician at a Nationwide Cell Phone Provider) I thought of Jen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During that time in my life I was not a nice person. But that is a whole blog series of its own. Needless to say, its a true glimpse of Jen's character that she is still my friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been pregnant at the same time with both our children. Their due dates were always SO close. And it was a HUGE shock to us as it was NOT planned. Our daughters ended up being born about 1 1/2 days apart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were able to experience those first time mother things together and then remind each other how to do it the second time around. We had the same parenting schedule so we could call and ask for tips and advice. Play dates were awesome because we did things the same way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Noah was born and I needed someone to care for Lilly, she was there. I didn't want to take Lilly away from her home, knowing that we would be leaving for a long time very shortly. I tried to keep things comfortable for her. Jen understood. She brought her family up to play with Lilly while Shane and I were getting the transplant transportation and odds and ends taken care off. There are no words to explain what that meant to me. But she knew how much I needed it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These sort of events continue to repeat themselves. As is the case when you find yourself blessed enough to have a friend like mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow (Friday, as I am writing this late Thursday night) is her Birthday. Tonight was her Birthday dinner celebration and I had to miss it. Lilly being sick, chance we are all infected, and the yucky side effects of the Tamiflu that makes you feel like crud... It just wouldn't have been right to crash her party and bring a gift (of the pig variety) to her guests. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what does she do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She drives, completely out of her way I might add, to my house to give Shane and I our favorite flavors of Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She missed us and didn't want us to miss out on the treats. You would think it was my birthday and not hers. But see, that's just the type of friend she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time, she even drove the 30plus minutes to my house, in the middle of the night, to bring me a slurpee.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I adore her. I respect her, I admire her. I love her. She is a sister to me. Her family is part of my family. And my life is blessed just to have known her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Jen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Why don't you come and sit right here? *patpat*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**hugs**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-8272365952440703402?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/JHPQhQ7rbgs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/8272365952440703402/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=8272365952440703402&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8272365952440703402?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8272365952440703402?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/JHPQhQ7rbgs/good-friend-is-worth-their-weight-in.html" title="A Good Friend Is Worth Their Weight In Cheesecake" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/good-friend-is-worth-their-weight-in.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAHQXw_eCp7ImA9WxNVF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-4832418010463256271</id><published>2009-10-28T18:30:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T18:55:30.240-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-28T18:55:30.240-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Noah" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lilly" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Update" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Swine Flu" /><title>Gone To The Pigs</title><content type="html">I tried to get the kids the H1N1 vaccine. The lines were insane and the quantity, limited. So we never did get one. But we did get the seasonal flu vaccine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there are many people out there who don't or won't get a flu shot. For us, the small risk associated with any vaccine isn't enough to prevent us from getting it. And it's not just because we don't want to get sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's true, that with Noah's suppressed immune system he is more susceptible to getting germs but he is also more likely to get sicker. When he gets sick, it revs up his immune system. The whole reason he is on immune suppression is because with a fully active or revved up immune system, it starts to attack his heart. Causing rejection and heart failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you see, it's not just a desire to avoid getting sick. It really is a life or death choice for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday afternoon, Lilly started seeming a bit sick. She had a small cough and complained of not feeling well. By the next morning, she could barely breath and I was afraid she was going to cough up a lung. She had a fever of 102 and was so tired. Classic symptoms of the flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed to the Urgent Care (our ped was out and the on-call Dr is the one who told me Noah was fine when 3 days later I found out he had pneumonia... so not worth the drive up there). They ran all the standard tests, including Strep and a flu test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything came back negative, except the flu test. She did indeed test positive for Influenza A. And, since the seasonal flu has not made an appearance here in the great beehive state, I was told it was a 95% chance it was of the H1N1 variety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all honesty, this really worried me. I've heard how awful this virus can be on a persons lungs. I could see what a hard time breathing that Lilly was having (her O2 sats were in the high 80s). I couldn't help but think of Noah and his lowered immune system and his damaged lungs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, Noah's transplant coordinator is FABULOUS and she had already called in an Rx of Tamiflu for the entire family. If &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we&lt;/span&gt; can keep from getting sick, it will help keep &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Noah&lt;/span&gt; from getting sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly is still not well but her breathing isn't as labored and while I have heard some coughing during the night from Noah, he has yet to get sick. I really think the Tamiflu is making a big difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By yesterday evening I was even feeling lousy, but I put the Netti pot to some good use and started my own Rx of Tamiflu and today I am feeling much better. I think the trick of it is to get it started as soon as possible and not wait until you already have a fever and cough. Although, that isn't always possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are still not out of the woods. Lilly is still sick and her cough is pretty horrid. Noah could still get sick and that could be a whole world of hurt for him. But I feel more confident that all will be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of you have reached out to me on Face Book and Twitter to offer your support and prayers. It means so much to me. As I have said many times, I know first hand (many times over) the power of prayer. So thank you for caring about the well being of my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is to hoping you all stay healthy and avoid this horrible virus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: medium none ; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" border="0" height="16" width="171" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-4832418010463256271?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/l5RQXHNFQSE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/4832418010463256271/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=4832418010463256271&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/4832418010463256271?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/4832418010463256271?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/l5RQXHNFQSE/gone-to-pigs.html" title="Gone To The Pigs" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/gone-to-pigs.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08GQnc_fCp7ImA9WxNVFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-4490076193352950212</id><published>2009-10-24T20:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T21:03:43.944-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-24T21:03:43.944-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mothering" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Health" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Update" /><title>A Breath of Fresh Air</title><content type="html">The past few days I've been me again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No anger, no yelling, more patience with the kiddies...  What a relief. I was starting to wonder what happened to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back, I think I figured it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had started a new BC (darn hormones), I've been having some womanly issues going on 3 months now so I must have been a bit anemic, and the Lortab I've been taking (since my surgery in August) was starting to react badly in my system. Hence the meanness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago I switched back to my old BC, started taking an iron supplement, and stopped the Lortab (now using Tramadol for the Fibro pain). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it. I still have pain and exhaustion. I still don't feel good but I've gone to bed each night feeling peace. I haven't been yelling or losing patience. I have played and read books(lots and lots of books... It seems Lilly found her love of reading like her mom). Gotten my work done. Cooked and of course played around on Facebook. And all with a smile on my face.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praying and reading scriptures and inspirational talks (like that quote from President Hinckley I shared in the post below) got me through the rough patch. It inspired me to keep trying and help ease my guilt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, boy... What a difference I feel now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A HUGE sigh of relief. I don't have to hate myself anymore (until the next rough patch I guess.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-4490076193352950212?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/3F8nPrQrdBE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/4490076193352950212/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=4490076193352950212&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/4490076193352950212?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/4490076193352950212?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/3F8nPrQrdBE/breath-of-fresh-air.html" title="A Breath of Fresh Air" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/breath-of-fresh-air.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUNRXszeyp7ImA9WxNVEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-350159463977449797</id><published>2009-10-22T16:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T16:58:14.583-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-22T16:58:14.583-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Update" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random" /><title>Buffet: Blog Style</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SuDg2X5Z4MI/AAAAAAAACjA/5mXH-W9GcKs/s1600-h/parenting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 165px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SuDg2X5Z4MI/AAAAAAAACjA/5mXH-W9GcKs/s200/parenting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395559578322198722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've done a lot of posting about being a mother lately. Unfortunately, I've been having a difficult time. It's my fault. My children are really quite good kids. I've been very blessed in that way. They are sweet, loving, playful, happy kids. My patience has been suffering though. Dealing with horrible pain on a daily basis has taken all my strength from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that even the best of mothers have bad days but it's difficult for me not to feel like a total failure when I haven't done my best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure I'm not alone. So I thought I would share a quote by a very wise man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;“Never forget that these little ones are the sons and daughters of God and that yours is a custodial relationship to them, that He was a parent before you were parents and that He has not relinquished His parental rights or interest in these His little ones. Now, love them, take care of them. Fathers, control your tempers, now and in all the years to come. Mothers, control your voices; keep them down. Rear your children in love, in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Take care of your little ones. Welcome them into your homes, and nurture and love them with all of your hearts. They may do, in the years that come, some things you would not want them to do, but be patient, be patient. You have not failed as long as you have tried. Never forget that” Gordon B. Hinckley (Salt Lake University Third Stake conference, 3 Nov. 1996).&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mothers: You have not failed as long as you have tried. Never forget that!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading &lt;a href="http://mytricuspidatresia.blogspot.com/2009/10/bike-and-answers-to-prayer.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; over at Paul Cardall's blog &lt;a href="http://mytricuspidatresia.blogspot.com/"&gt;Living for Eden&lt;/a&gt;. This man is a personal hero of mine. (He is a fabulous example of strength, faith, and a positive attitude) Through the tears that were uncontrollably springing from my eyes, I saw this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SuDiCIOht4I/AAAAAAAACjI/K4IoXLweHsY/s1600-h/chiefofmedstaff_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 295px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SuDiCIOht4I/AAAAAAAACjI/K4IoXLweHsY/s400/chiefofmedstaff_lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395560879785883522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I really started bawling. I have no words. If you have been there, you know exactly what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the rest of the series &lt;a href="http://www.nathangreene.com/prod_detail_list/12"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. So very moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tough times call for desperate measures and desperate measures mean I've been cooking. If effort counts toward success then I've been really successful. *eyeroll*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shane says I've been keeping my cooking skills a secret for the past seven years. But in all honesty, I've had just as many failures as I have successes. But let me tell you, it's very upsetting to work super hard at creating a meal and putting in all this effort and time and have it just not turn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also learned, I am much better at "cooking" than I am at "baking". We ran out of bread this morning. So, instead of getting dressed and going to the store *lazy*, I decided to bake bread. It smells good. It even browned up nicely. Problem is, it didn't raise very well. They are stubby little things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better luck next time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are ALL about getting the flu shot at our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immune suppression, asthma, heart transplant.... yes, I've read the risks (and done the research) and the benefits out way them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have every intention of getting the H1N1 vaccine. All our doctors have recommended it and we just don't have the luxury of not getting it. So I am getting super frustrated that they are so hard to find. They finally got them in my county but they are so limited none of us can get one besides Noah. Lilly should qualify but because she is 4 months over 4 years old, she can't have the shot yet. She is only allowed the Flu Mist. Problem is, because Noah is immune suppressed, no one in the family can get the mist version. It's a live virus and could make Noah VERY sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are staying in and avoiding crowds but I sure would feel better if I knew we had done everything we could to keep us healthy. Come on Government!! Get with the program. You ask us all to get the vaccine... give us enough of it to do just that!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my best friends is moving and it makes me sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like she is moving out of state or across the Country. In all reality, she is only moving about 10 minutes further away. But I can't help but admit there was a part of me holding on to the dream of having our kids go to school together and go to church together. Until they decided not to move close, I was keeping up hope. Now, I'm like a little kid who doesn't get a treat at the supermarket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my update for now. It's time to finish working on dinner. I am roasting a ham. I made homemade cheesy scalloped potatoes. That's all cooking. So now I need to roast some asparagus (or maybe I'll cook up the artichokes in the fridge... hum...) and set the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just say, I can not wait until my kids are old enough to do the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: medium none ; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" border="0" height="16" width="171" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-350159463977449797?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/s5Tkzi5dGWg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/350159463977449797/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=350159463977449797&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/350159463977449797?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/350159463977449797?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/s5Tkzi5dGWg/buffet-blog-style.html" title="Buffet: Blog Style" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SuDg2X5Z4MI/AAAAAAAACjA/5mXH-W9GcKs/s72-c/parenting.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/buffet-blog-style.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUFQnw9eCp7ImA9WxNWGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-3142353932668832984</id><published>2009-10-19T11:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T12:33:33.260-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-19T12:33:33.260-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Car Repair" /><title>Nuts and Bolts</title><content type="html">It's supposed to rain tomorrow. Yes, this might be a common occurrence during the fall, one that shouldn't cause too much extra fluff. If anything, it makes for a good day to turn on the heater, snuggle on the couch, and watch movies with the chillin. (aka the kids)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not today. Today there is extra fluff. See, while driving to my parents house for dinner yesterday the weather was fabulous. It was warm and sunny. So we rolled down the windows. Now, the window by Lilly's seat won't roll back up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the weather was going to stay nice I might think this was a good opportunity to get some fresh air. But since its going to rain and I don't want to drive a swimming pool on wheels, its a bit frustrating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, because everyone likes frosting on their cake, my dad informs me he thinks I have a hole in my muffler. When we started the car he could hear a rattle and smell exhaust by the passenger door. Oh yay! Frosting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because there is always room for jello too... Let's not forget to mention the needed oil change, the squealing breaks, and the broken valve on the natural gas canister. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit, at the mechanic. This place has treated me well in the past but I'm always a bit nervous and leary of trusting someone who can mess with my cars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plan, is to at least get the window UP before it rains. Then save up some dough to come back and take care of the rest (one thing at a time). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all this dessert talk, I think I need a treat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**UPDATE**&lt;br /&gt;The cables are completely broken so there is no way to get the window up and have it stay up. $120 for parts $130 for labor and now I'm broke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**UPDATE #2**&lt;br /&gt;I was quoted the wrong price. This window is more pricey I guess. Now the part is $200. So he cut the labor down for a total cost of $280. Just wanted to clarify. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-3142353932668832984?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/8ABYYBUbiHc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/3142353932668832984/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=3142353932668832984&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/3142353932668832984?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/3142353932668832984?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/8ABYYBUbiHc/nuts-and-bolts.html" title="Nuts and Bolts" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/nuts-and-bolts.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IFQH04fCp7ImA9WxNWGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-33861417209381367</id><published>2009-10-18T23:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T00:58:31.334-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-19T00:58:31.334-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prayer" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith RMH" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Priesthood Blessing" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><title>Bread and Butter</title><content type="html">This is a post that is hard for me to share. I don't want all my weaknesses and struggles posted for the world to see. As fake as it would be, I would still love to only share the good angle pictures or moment-of-strength stories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping, though, that here you will find truth to be  more powerful and that my doom and gloom won't frighten you away. &lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Lord of the Rings, Bilbo tries to explain to Gandolf what the ring of power has done to him. Stretching out his years... He describes it as butter spread too thinly across a piece of bread (yes, I paraphrased. Its been a while since I've seen the movie.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how I feel. I feel thin. Stretched too far. Transparent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I also feel heavy. Weighed down by the pressures of life and the guilt of missed expectations. I could go on and on about it all. How I haven't been pain free in over a year. How that affects me as a person, a wife, and a mother. How I find myself relying on medication for even a sliver of relief. And yet, avoiding it, and making myself sicker in the process, to keep from becoming too dependent on it. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;There are changes I need and want to make.  I find myself questioning my abilities every day. Can I do it? Do I have anything left to give? What if's plague my thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel stretched thin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that said, I have to remind myself of a lesson I learned while living in a Ronald McDonald House, away from my husband and family, doing everything I could while my baby got sicker and sicker needing a heart transplant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt thin and heavy then too. Different than now, yet the same in many ways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I left for Denver, Shane and I met in a private room with my father and a close family friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad, a worthy priesthood holder, placed his hands on my head and gave me a Father's Blessing. During that blessing, I felt the love of both my fathers. My father here on Earth and my Father in Heaven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was promised, that when those times of great need came I shouldn't feel alone. That if I were to get on my knees and ask, I would be given strength beyond my own. That I would be lifted up and sustained through the tough times ahead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can say now, that the blessing given to me that day was what got me through the last 2 1/2 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vividly remember having a very rough day. Seeing Noah getting so much sicker and then having to take Shane to the airport to go back home. Driving back to the RMH that night was awful. I didn't even have the strength within me to cry. I was lost and alone and empty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked into my darkened room (Lilly and Jen were sleeping) and I went straight to the side of my bed and fell on my knees. I remembered the promise given to me that day in an empty hospital conference room. And now I found myself on my knees asking for what I needed so badly, comfort. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Bible there is a verse in John that says "I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, I felt the truth in those words and I put the promise to the test, I asked.(Or pleaded and begged might be more fitting.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That entire room was filled with such peace and love. A feeling of complete comfort came over me. I laid down and I slept. Knowing that my Heavenly Father was going to help make me strong enough to make it through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, how can I find myself feeling thin and heavy again? Worried about the future?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because these times aren't as trying as before so I don't deserve to even ask? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I ever learn my lesson?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, these times are not as difficult as before. But I'm struggling just as much because I'm not asking for help. The help I have been promised would come... If I asked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't misunderstand. I still pray. I pray for my children and my husband, I pray for health and healing. I ask forgiveness of my weaknesses. But I haven't gotten down on my knees and asked like I did that night back at the RMH. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Is it pride? Guilt? Do I wonder if I'm still worthy of that same promise if the trial isn't as severe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But see, we all have been given this same promise. He will not leave us comfortless. He will come to us. He will give us the strength and comfort we need. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been said that the Lord will never give us more than we can bare. But what I think He meant was that regardless of what He sends our way, He will be there for us to give us the strength we need. He definitely doesn't expect us to do it alone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next time my pain is overwhelming or the withdrawal from the pain pills makes me sick, or in my weakness I struggle to be a good mother, I will remember that I don't have to do it alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I've put this out there, I have to hold myself accountable. I have to get over my pride and humble myself before my Savior. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel silly even telling you all this. I know that in the big scheme of things and even compared to some people's little things my trials are small. I guess that just shows how truly weak I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am grateful for my faith. I'm grateful that everytime I'm not perfect (which is every moment of every day) I can be forgiven and try again. I am so grateful that I've been given the tools to make this earthly journey a good one. And yet I am so disappointed in my own stubbornness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next time I whine or have a bad day (or post on Face Book "Help Me Tom Cruise! (My FB status when I'm overwhelmed, that I borrowed from Taladega Nights)) Please, give me a swift kick to the rear and remind me where my help really comes from. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of how stubborn I am, I don't have to do it alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-33861417209381367?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/np8JuXErZ4c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/33861417209381367/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=33861417209381367&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/33861417209381367?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/33861417209381367?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/np8JuXErZ4c/bread-and-butter.html" title="Bread and Butter" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/bread-and-butter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AESH04eCp7ImA9WxNWFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-7706323018584795463</id><published>2009-10-15T23:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T23:08:29.330-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-15T23:08:29.330-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Being a Mom" /><title>Confession Update</title><content type="html">Last night I was riddled with guilt. Mommy guilt. One of the most crushing kinds (I think).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My tears were a very painful reminder that I needed to try harder. I prayed for forgiveness and renewed patience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a much better day. I needed my heart healed just as much as I needed to heal my babies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played. We sang songs. We cuddled and gave kisses. We smiled and laughed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I was a good mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't do it alone. Everyday I realize this. I need my Heavenly Father to help me be worthy of the angels he has blessed into my care. And He never disappoints. If I'm willing and humble enough to ask. He is always there for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was such a better day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-7706323018584795463?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/V-3IN-qmU24" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/7706323018584795463/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=7706323018584795463&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/7706323018584795463?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/7706323018584795463?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/V-3IN-qmU24/confession-update.html" title="Confession Update" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/confession-update.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYHSXs9cSp7ImA9WxNWFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-1715510422041795108</id><published>2009-10-14T22:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T23:05:38.569-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-14T23:05:38.569-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Guilt" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blessings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Being a Mom" /><title>Confession</title><content type="html">My children don't deserve me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are sweet, trusting, loving, perfect little beings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am irritated, tired, frustrated, and missing any patience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love them more than anything. There are no words to describe my love of these two little people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, I keep ending my days wishing I had shown more patience, more understanding, more love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray every single day that Heavenly Father will make up the difference for me. That my children won't suffer because of my weaknesses and sins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember dealing with infertility and praying to be a mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember watching my baby sick and praying that his time with me would be lengthened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't forgotten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I have a lot of work to do to be worthy of those blessings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me sick to thing I'm not doing the best I know I can. I feel guilty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids deserve so much more than just me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am still so thankful for their beautiful smiles. They given reason and meaning to my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-1715510422041795108?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/jlCH3_vwciI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/1715510422041795108/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=1715510422041795108&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/1715510422041795108?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/1715510422041795108?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/jlCH3_vwciI/confession.html" title="Confession" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/confession.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4BRnkycSp7ImA9WxNWFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-8298482549842064141</id><published>2009-10-13T01:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T01:29:17.799-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-13T01:29:17.799-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Diet" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random" /><title>I Might Be On To Something</title><content type="html">Having two kids and being sick has not been very kind to my body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not a surprise to see I am TWICE the size I was in High School. (Maybe that's a little exaggerated but then maybe its not)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I do know:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I am eating less. &lt;br /&gt;*I'm being more selective of what I do eat. More veggies, fruits, whole grains.&lt;br /&gt;*I've made drastic cuts in the soda intake. &lt;br /&gt;*I exercise as much as the pain and fatigue allow. Its not enough. I get that. But it something. And its more than what I was doing. Plus, I also run after 2 kids and lug a diaper bag around every where I go and I swear that thing could weigh a ton if not two. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why isn't the weight coming off? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I'll tell you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm skipping dessert. Yep, that's the reason I'm not losing weight. I've been skipping dessert. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what happens when you don't eat dessert? Well, you go about your nightly duties. Watch some TV, even brush your teeth. And just as you are about to get into bed... It hits you (or in this case it hits me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starving! Hunger pains. Growling tummy. The whole bit. I have to find something to eat before I throw up cause I am SO hungry. &lt;br /&gt;So I eat. Doesn't matter what. Crackers and cheese. Sometimes a few chips, or even just a cheese stick or pickle spear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I eat it and then get in bed. So all that food just sits in my tummy. I'm never burning off anything because I eat it right before bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I would just have eaten the darn dessert I wouldn't have gotten hungry right before bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, don't do what I do. EAT your dessert. It helps make you thin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-8298482549842064141?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/umppflKE6bw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/8298482549842064141/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=8298482549842064141&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8298482549842064141?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8298482549842064141?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/umppflKE6bw/i-might-be-on-to-something.html" title="I Might Be On To Something" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/i-might-be-on-to-something.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UERHY_cCp7ImA9WxNWEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-6591699737120736195</id><published>2009-10-09T21:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T21:26:45.848-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-09T21:26:45.848-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Noah" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lilly" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Update" /><title>Sleepy, Shots and Stars</title><content type="html">Yesterday, staying awake was about all I accomplished. But if I'm being honest, I didn't accomplish it well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, as much as I needed to sleep, I had more pressing things to attend to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Lilly got out of school, we drove straight to the pediatrician's office so Lilly and Noah could get their flu shot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noah went first. The nurse who gave the shots, Diane, is the same nurse who would give Noah his monthly Synagis shots the past two years. Those are painful shots and Noah knows exactly who Diane is and what she does. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a little nervous when he saw her but didn't cry. That was surprising because the last few times he even saw her he would lose it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He got his quickly shot which scared him more than it hurt him. He only cried for a moment and was thrilled to leave with his Nemo sticker. He quickly informed that he was "ready GO!" as soon as he could. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly wasn't to thrilled once she saw Noah get his but she amazes me with her bravery and maturity. She chose to get her "sticky" in her leg. She tensed up and got nervous but held still. It was over in a second and she relaxed and said "that didn't hurt my leg even a little!" She really is such a big girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came home and ransacked the garage for all our Halloween decorations. Lilly was so excited. We put up the pumpkins and witches and even some sticky letters on our mirror. But the real find, was a Harry Potter wizard robe and wand. Lilly wore it all day. (That dumb wand about drove me insane) She even informed me that she was NEVER taking it off. She was even going to sleep in it. It made me laugh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the treasure I found was a few strands of star Christmas lights. Some how they were put in the Halloween bin and not the Christmas bins but it turned out perfect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, Lilly has been having some issues with the dark lately. For the past few weeks we have been sleeping with the bathroom light on, door wide open and not one but 3 night lights in her room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She never had a problem with it until just now. But I suspect it has to do with all the scary Scooby Doo mysteries and Halloween shows she loves to watch. She loves scary things (very unlike her mother). But I think it's made her a little worried about the dark. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I saw the star lights, I had an idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hung up the lights around her window. It makes her room quite bright as they are clear white stars. But its not any brighter than the bathroom light. It's just cheaper on the power bill and doesn't shine in all the other rooms &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly was very please. So was mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, I'm going to kick up my feet, sip a slurpee and watch a movie with my hubby to start off his birthday weekend celebration. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I don't fall asleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-6591699737120736195?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/I0fvl9bfZQc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/6591699737120736195/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=6591699737120736195&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/6591699737120736195?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/6591699737120736195?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/I0fvl9bfZQc/sleepy-shots-and-stars.html" title="Sleepy, Shots and Stars" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/sleepy-shots-and-stars.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04NSHYyfSp7ImA9WxNWEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-6233181982585144404</id><published>2009-10-08T22:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T22:19:59.895-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-08T22:19:59.895-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Update" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random" /><title>The Post That Isn't</title><content type="html">I've written probably 101+ posts in my head. A little bit of everything. From sickness to layoffs to funny things the kids say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sooner rather than later I will update. Share a few stories, maybe just ramble a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then, happy thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-6233181982585144404?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/UhOpLRWqrDs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/6233181982585144404/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=6233181982585144404&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/6233181982585144404?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/6233181982585144404?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/UhOpLRWqrDs/post-that-isnt.html" title="The Post That Isn't" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/10/post-that-isnt.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAASHc-fyp7ImA9WxNQF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-277226374746325404</id><published>2009-09-23T22:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T23:05:49.957-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-23T23:05:49.957-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Noah" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lilly" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Update" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Shane" /><title>Blah Blah Blah Puke Puke Blah</title><content type="html">I don't blog enough these days, I know. Can I even call myself a blogger anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the title of this post suggests, times have been fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly got the stomach flu again. Puked all over my parents bedroom floor actually. I was hoping Noah would get a pass again this round. Then he woke up crying tonight and when I went in to check on him, he was covered (and I mean that in every sense of the word) in vomit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shane was working late, then went to the gym before coming home. As I cleaned up and tried to comfort a sobbing sick child, I must admit I wasn't thinking very positive thoughts about my husband as I imagined him rocking out to his tunes and checking out the gym bunnies (is there even such a thing as a gym bunny??).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once Noah was asleep again and the stinkies were in the washer, I wasn't mad anymore. So when he came home (slurpee in hand) I didn't say a word about our little fight that he knew nothing about. At least he brought a peace offering, even if he didn't know that's what he was doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know what tomorrow is? (Or today if your reading this in the morning) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Thursday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The season premier of Grey's Anatomy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'm just a little excited. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what's the deal with Pickles? I've almost eaten an entire jar in under a day. That's just wrong and creepy. And no, I'm not "craving". I've just been eating a lot of pickles. Hopefully they are low calorie. I guess I should check. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they aren't low cal, I guess I can always become a gym bunny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-277226374746325404?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/pryMcYWWPzE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/277226374746325404/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=277226374746325404&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/277226374746325404?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/277226374746325404?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/pryMcYWWPzE/blah-blah-blah-puke-puke-blah.html" title="Blah Blah Blah Puke Puke Blah" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/09/blah-blah-blah-puke-puke-blah.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYAQXszfip7ImA9WxNRGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-298387536064069892</id><published>2009-09-13T21:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T21:15:40.586-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-13T21:15:40.586-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Noah" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="School" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lilly" /><title>It's a School Night</title><content type="html">Tonight is the first school night of the year in our house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, Lilly starts her second year of Preschool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'll be going an extra day this year in preparation for kindergarten. It just blows my mind that she is getting so grownup already. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With her in Kindergarten next year and Noah in Preschool, I will have a few hours of no children at home. Sounds tantalizing. Only a year to go. But then, who knows. Maybe things will change by then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways... Lilly is excited for school. She loves her teacher and all her friends. She is so social and friendly. I just adore that little princess. And it will be nice to have a few hours to spend with Noah. I want to take him to the park or the aquarium and have some nice one on one with Mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess Summer is officially over and the routine begins again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy School Year everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-298387536064069892?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/NbB6sk19GnU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/298387536064069892/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=298387536064069892&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/298387536064069892?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/298387536064069892?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/NbB6sk19GnU/its-school-night.html" title="It's a School Night" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/09/its-school-night.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QCQnY5eip7ImA9WxNRFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-7120300527546256056</id><published>2009-09-09T01:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T01:29:23.822-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-09T01:29:23.822-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gratitude" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random" /><title>My Last Thought Of The Day</title><content type="html">I am laying in bed. About to try and end a very long, physically trying, and busy day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My phone starts to flash, signalling that I have a message. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, it was from a friend who can relate to what I've been going through. Although we have never met in person, she is my dear friend. Always giving me support...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I jump on here to share my final thought for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so blessed to have a life filled with great people. I'm thankful for wonderful friends who reach out and comfort and support, who lend a listening ear. Who are always there when I need them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that I have been blessed to know such amazing people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to you, Amazing People, thank you! For enriching my life and putting a smile on my face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-7120300527546256056?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/ojbCicyaD-w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/7120300527546256056/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=7120300527546256056&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/7120300527546256056?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/7120300527546256056?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/ojbCicyaD-w/my-last-thought-of-day.html" title="My Last Thought Of The Day" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/09/my-last-thought-of-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMHR3w_cSp7ImA9WxNREk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-8570693672082321696</id><published>2009-09-05T20:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T20:33:56.249-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-05T20:33:56.249-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Noah" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prayer" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rant" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Changes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Opinion" /><title>Shake'n It Off</title><content type="html">Oh my goodness! I'm so sick and tired of my own grouchiness that I about unsubscribed to my own Blog Feed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you were kind enough to stick around even though I don't think I've written anything uplifting or non-ranting in a long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After surgery, I was surprised at how much worse I felt than I had expected to. Then, my entire family (even extended family) caught the stomach flu. Kids puking, grouchy husband, and my own fevers to boot... I missed sleeping in my own bed (I've been sleeping on the couch downstairs to avoid middle of the night body slams from heavy toddlers) and I was so sad as disappointed that we had to cancel a trip to Shane's family and go to the Eastern Idaho State Fair (it's a yearly tradition). All this, combined with a huge case of cabin fever left me with no patience and a fuse shorter than a tooth pick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually I can shake it off and not be so quick to be offended. &lt;br /&gt;So, that being said, I am sorry for my outburst. As if you all don't have enough stress in your lives. People actually with real problems. When in all honesty... Call me un-American. I really could NOT care less what you think about me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm done. (Sigh of relief)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noah has been outgrowing his crib at an alarming speed. That kid is as rambunctious (no idea how to spell that word) in his sleep as he is when he is awake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the cheapy crib mattress mixed with not enough room is what is making him wake up in the middle of the night and want to sleep with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight we moved our queen sized quest bed (my bed pre-marraige) to his room. Cleaned out his toys and gave him a big boy room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To start his first night off as a big boy we said prayers kneeling next to his bed. I usually will hold him during prayers before I lay him down. But now that he has a big bed, we kneeled down next to it and folded our arms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here is the BEST part:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shane dictated a very simple, single word after single word prayers, and my little man who can't say even a single FULL word (other than Go) mimicked his Daddy and said his own bedtime prayer for the first time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my word!! I knelt there with my eyes closed and my arms folded and I think my heart exploded bigger than the house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He couldn't say the entire words. But he copied his Daddy the best he could and it was the most perfect thing I have ever heard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We said Amen and I looked at Shane and we laughed. It was wonderful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-8570693672082321696?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/oXQ6qS2ISSg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/8570693672082321696/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=8570693672082321696&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8570693672082321696?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8570693672082321696?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/oXQ6qS2ISSg/shaken-it-off.html" title="Shake'n It Off" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/09/shaken-it-off.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkACR34zeip7ImA9WxNREU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-8956987965739701185</id><published>2009-09-04T17:04:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T17:59:26.082-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-04T17:59:26.082-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Thoughts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Religion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Politics" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Opinion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Freedom" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Choice" /><title>Since When....</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;When did it become un-American to have an opinion?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          {If I remember correctly, that's the whole point of this country! FREEDOM! People keep saying that if I don't agree with current politics or social events then I am closed minded, un-American, self-righteous, etc. Wait a second... I have EVERY RIGHT as an American to have an opinion. An opinion of Religion, of Politics, of standard values, of education, and of health care and of whatever else I feel the need to have an opinion on. You think that by attacking MY opinion that makes yours better?}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;When did it become okay to force political opinions on impressionable children yet avoid all religious discussion?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           {Let this be known, I have &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;NO&lt;/span&gt; problem with the President of my Country addressing school age children. I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DO&lt;/span&gt; pledge my support to my COUNTRY and to making this world a better place. That said, I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;DO&lt;/span&gt; have a problem with sneaky wording and pledging support to a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;man&lt;/span&gt;. Especially when it should be the other way around. He is a servant to the people of this country. I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DO&lt;/span&gt; have a problem with the agenda that is going to be discussed. (I'm looking for the link I found then misplaced.) The video isn't the entire problem. It's the additional content of the days event. If I can't discuss MY religion in our class rooms then please don't force your political agenda either.}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;When did it become intolerant to have an opinion?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;{I'm sorry, but I am sick and tired of people slamming each other and calling everyone intolerant. What's intolerant is not accepting an individuals right to a differing opinion. I'm not saying stay quiet. Talk about the issues. Go to protests (for or against). Raise awareness for your cause. But don't call people names or say they are intolerant just because they have a different idea of things. I don't have to approve or agree with everything. But that does NOT make me intolerant!}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;When did it become okay to slam people just because you don't agree on something?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        {We all have different life experiences that help create and shape our opinions and choices. Your experiences are different than mine. Stands to reason that your opinions and choices will be different also. You don't know all the reasoning behind my choices or opinions. So please keep your judgments to yourself.}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;When did avoiding certain topics of conversation mean you are ignorant?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       {I know why I have made my decisions. I research issues then try to form the most educated decision that feels right for me. But sometimes, I chose not to discuss certain topics. Sometimes it because the topic is too reverent for me to feel comfortable discussing except in choice situations. Sometimes it's because I am comfortable agreeing to disagree. I understand that we all get passionate about things. So why risk hurt feelings?}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;When did people lose their faith and loyalty?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        {I am tired of people pointing their fingers and calling people of my religion intolerant or closed minded. There are many people of many faiths with all different kinds of opinions. We are also ALL mortal and we ALL make mistakes. It's not just because they belong to a particular religion! I know many liberal Democratic people of Faith (my religion and others). I also know many conservative Republicans who are not associated with one particular religion.}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, the question that continues to baffle me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why do I have to be wrong, for you to be right?&lt;/span&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have gotten that off my chest I need to admit that I know how hypocritical I sound (stop complaining about people... wow, that sounds familiar.)  I should be talking about the topics and not the people behind them. I am just so tired of it. Write your blogs, post on your Face Books, send out your Tweets. Tell the world what you believe. But PLEASE stop attacking people or calling them names and dishing out your own forms of discrimination just because your opinions differ. I an NOT un-American, I am NOT intolerant, I am NOT closed-minded. I am a patriotic American mother trying her best to do right by my God and my children. And chances are, you are probably trying to do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I long for a world that we can stand next to our neighbors and see the things we have in common, accept our differences as things that make us unique, and understand that we are all striving for what we think is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: medium none ; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" border="0" height="16" width="171" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-8956987965739701185?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/4UriGXP2jpU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/8956987965739701185/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=8956987965739701185&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8956987965739701185?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/8956987965739701185?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/4UriGXP2jpU/since-when.html" title="Since When...." /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/09/since-when.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcNQ3o5fyp7ImA9WxNREE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-4667178346993061807</id><published>2009-09-03T18:03:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T18:11:32.427-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-03T18:11:32.427-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Religion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Politics" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Opinion" /><title>I Pledge My Allegiance To GOD and My Country!</title><content type="html">I am a servant of my Lord Jesus Christ AND NO OTHER! I do not, nor shall I ever, serve two masters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check this out for another view on a very HOT topic right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://candacesalima.blogspot.com/2009/09/barack-obama-wants-americans-to-serve.html"&gt;Dream a Little Dream&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: medium none ; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" border="0" height="16" width="171" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-4667178346993061807?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/hl44e73nqmE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/4667178346993061807/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=4667178346993061807&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/4667178346993061807?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/4667178346993061807?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/hl44e73nqmE/i-pledge-my-aligence-to-god-and-my.html" title="I Pledge My Allegiance To GOD and My Country!" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/09/i-pledge-my-aligence-to-god-and-my.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIGSHw8eSp7ImA9WxNREE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-463148028970581875</id><published>2009-09-03T17:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T17:28:49.271-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-03T17:28:49.271-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="My Life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random" /><title>A Good Sign</title><content type="html">For the first time in a week, I'm feeling well enough and hungry enough to cook dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very good sign. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's on the menu? One of my favorite comfort foods, of course. Chicken broccoli casserole and roasted asparagus. Doesn't really go together but it sounds good to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="171" alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" height="16"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-463148028970581875?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/gu8cCNbecLg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/463148028970581875/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=463148028970581875&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/463148028970581875?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/463148028970581875?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/gu8cCNbecLg/good-sign.html" title="A Good Sign" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/09/good-sign.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8MRX8yeCp7ImA9WxNSFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-4618212402762499378</id><published>2009-08-27T22:05:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T22:14:44.190-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-27T22:14:44.190-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gall Bladder Reflux" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Surgery" /><title>Now It's MY Turn</title><content type="html">I may not be the best example of a healthy person, but I have been able to avoid the OR (for the most part) more than some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, that all changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I "get" to have my diseased, painful, irritating, and awful Gall Bladder removed. YAY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It first started bothering me when we were living in Denver after Noah's heart transplant. I was so worried that I would need surgery while I was away from home and with a sick child. But the Lord blessed me and got me through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those prayers and blessings got me another 2 years out of that sick organ. But for everything there is a season and the season of surgery is upon me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say, that even though I have had to have emergency brain surgery to save my life, foot reconstruction to avoid amputation, and seen a child survive and thrive after having their heart removed and a new one put back in, I am still a little nervous about 4 small "pokes" into my jelly belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's going to help me feel SO much better and to not have it be painful and make me sick everyday will really help. But every surgery isn't without risk.... and I worry more for my children and my husband than I do for my own safety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I like being the patient very much... but hopefully this will be the "change in seasons" that leads me to a healthier life outside of the Dr's office (and OR).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: medium none ; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="a2a_dd" href="http://www.addtoany.com/share_save?linkname=Memoirs%20of%20a%20Mommy&amp;amp;linkurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.memoirsofamommyblog.com"&gt;&lt;img alt="Share/Save/Bookmark" src="http://static.addtoany.com/buttons/share_save_171_16.png" width="171" border="0" height="16" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;a2a_linkname="Memoirs of a Mommy";a2a_linkurl="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com";&lt;/script&gt;&lt;script src="http://static.addtoany.com/menu/page.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-4618212402762499378?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/DndK7AvXtW8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/4618212402762499378/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=4618212402762499378&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/4618212402762499378?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/4618212402762499378?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/DndK7AvXtW8/now-its-my-turn.html" title="Now It's MY Turn" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/08/now-its-my-turn.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IBSH88eSp7ImA9WxNTF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-798142142861245693</id><published>2009-08-18T10:42:00.019-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T14:59:19.171-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-19T14:59:19.171-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gall Bladder Reflux" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pictures" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Trip" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Yellowstone National Park" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Yellowstone" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vacation" /><title>A New Life Experience... And Some Other Stuff</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Sosb4x9zftI/AAAAAAAAChE/Qzcyl29CAzQ/s1600-h/Yellowstone+Lake+and+Storm.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Sosb4x9zftI/AAAAAAAAChE/Qzcyl29CAzQ/s400/Yellowstone+Lake+and+Storm.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371417642868637394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 19 when I boarded an airplane for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 18 the first time I went skiing  (I live 20 minutes away from the Greatest Snow on Earth!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been East of the Mississippi, West of the Rockies, and I've been out of the country on a Mexican Vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not, however, been to Yellowstone National Park. Until this past weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Soxj8cd79JI/AAAAAAAACic/78bzk3ShpF8/s1600-h/Ripples.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Soxj8cd79JI/AAAAAAAACic/78bzk3ShpF8/s400/Ripples.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371778345631216786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shane has been numerous times, seeing as he grew up about 2 hrs from the park. He has promised to take me every since we met, it just has never worked out before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SotmRy2JeTI/AAAAAAAAChU/_1d-8ITUH8Y/s1600-h/Bubbles.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SotmRy2JeTI/AAAAAAAAChU/_1d-8ITUH8Y/s400/Bubbles.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371499436462143794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally decided to get away for the weekend and head up there. My parents graciously agreed to keep the kids for a couple of days so Shane and I packed a few things, threw the tent in the car, and headed to Yellowstone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's as beautiful as I heard it would be. How incredibly amazing!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxdzBQ3SXI/AAAAAAAAChc/HqvOip6Xhc8/s1600-h/Bubbling+Landscape.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxdzBQ3SXI/AAAAAAAAChc/HqvOip6Xhc8/s400/Bubbling+Landscape.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371771586640038258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was difficult being away from the kids. I've spent a night away before but was never more than 3o minutes away and I was back home before a full 24 hrs was up. So to be 5 hours away and gone an entire weekend did gnaw at me a little. But I tried not to think about it since I knew they were in good hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxkiBkRdMI/AAAAAAAACik/jPCzIT_gpJQ/s1600-h/Shane+at+the+Mud+Pot.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxkiBkRdMI/AAAAAAAACik/jPCzIT_gpJQ/s400/Shane+at+the+Mud+Pot.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371778991245063362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to spend some much needed one on one time with the man I love. It's so easy to get distracted with life and parenting... so to be alone together and enjoying Mother Nature (and be unplugged since there isn't any cell phone coverage up there) was fabulous. It reminded me how much I am so in love with him and enjoy his company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been a bit nervous about going this particular weekend, because I found out that President Obama was making an appearance at the park on Saturday. I was so upset when I found this out. One, because I could imagine the crowds, the road closures, the red tape... and two, because I didn't vote for the man. He's NOT my favorite person at the moment. So while I respect and honor the office he holds (and I won't "bash" him solely for that reason) I wasn't excited to have my personal time interrupted by ideas I don't agree with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we drove into the park, we saw Air Force One fly right in front of us. The picture I was able to get isn't as great of a view as we originally saw... but it was still neat to get a picture of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SotlK-CwnxI/AAAAAAAAChM/U_6jcMMNzUM/s1600-h/Airforce+One.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SotlK-CwnxI/AAAAAAAAChM/U_6jcMMNzUM/s400/Airforce+One.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371498219697118994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only other impact his visit had was when we were visiting a little steam lake and the transport helicopter flew overhead, flanked by Blackhawkes. (I must admit, that was pretty cool.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxhpaqgxZI/AAAAAAAACiE/18I-ddgx6zA/s1600-h/On+the+Horizone.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxhpaqgxZI/AAAAAAAACiE/18I-ddgx6zA/s400/On+the+Horizone.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371775819706320274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Soxi-XIfb-I/AAAAAAAACiU/v3GKxjsx9sg/s1600-h/Presidential+Transport.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Soxi-XIfb-I/AAAAAAAACiU/v3GKxjsx9sg/s400/Presidential+Transport.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371777279047200738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Faithful was INSANELY busy. Parking was horrendous. I had heard that the road into Old Faithful was really backed up and at a stand still when The President had been there earlier. But that was cleared by the time we got there. We were still able to see Old Faithful's eruption up close and personal. And I was able to check in with the kids and talk to Lilly on the phone. (As she handed the phone back to my Mom, I heard her sweet little princess voice say..."I love my Mommy.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Soxg3-t3ehI/AAAAAAAACh8/mITt8aMUFfs/s1600-h/Muddy+Eruption.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Soxg3-t3ehI/AAAAAAAACh8/mITt8aMUFfs/s400/Muddy+Eruption.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371774970390608402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the entire day on Saturday touring the Park. I saw geysers, steam vents, hot pots and mud geysers. I saw Buffalo (and heard them), smelled fresh air, and bathed in Sulfur Steam more times than I can count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxidZHZ4TI/AAAAAAAACiM/PxjSxitTnF4/s1600-h/Paint+Pot.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxidZHZ4TI/AAAAAAAACiM/PxjSxitTnF4/s400/Paint+Pot.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371776712643830066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, we set up our tent. We lit a fire and gathered close and roasted hot dogs on sticks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxfRqEFgkI/AAAAAAAAChs/L7uYWedO8d4/s1600-h/Drop+Pool.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxfRqEFgkI/AAAAAAAAChs/L7uYWedO8d4/s400/Drop+Pool.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371773212500001346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 35 degrees that night so we were bundled up close in the sleeping bags. This would have been fine, but I was in excruciating pain! It felt like someone was trying to pack barbed wire into my stomach. I was sweating bullets (but every time I pulled the covers back I turned into an ice cube) and knew I was going to puke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Soxed7KokYI/AAAAAAAAChk/0AzQY7YvA3Y/s1600-h/Distant+Eruptions.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Soxed7KokYI/AAAAAAAAChk/0AzQY7YvA3Y/s400/Distant+Eruptions.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371772323737670018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment came and I rushed outside. I didn't make it very far.... I worried about attracting bears, but I really had no choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't just throw up easily. I usually get super nauseated but never throw up. This time, I puked all night and all day Sunday. One time I tried to make it to the flushing toilets (that were incredibly clean I might add) and only made it as far as the stall. Yeah... I felt really bad about that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxgJLlAoGI/AAAAAAAACh0/MwO0PbDYv2I/s1600-h/Hot+Pot.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/SoxgJLlAoGI/AAAAAAAACh0/MwO0PbDYv2I/s400/Hot+Pot.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371774166389268578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning we had planned to visit a side canyon and take a dip in a heated river that our friends had told us about. Instead, I begged Shane to take me to the Hospital (2 hours away in Idaho Falls).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We packed up and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we got to Idaho Falls, I wasn't puking anymore and the pain had calmed down a bit so we kept driving. I knew it was my gall bladder and the last thing I wanted was to be stuck in a small town hospital away from my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel better now. Still having an attack but nothing as major as I was. My Doctor has agreed to take the darn thing out so now I just have to call and schedule it sometime around our trip to Denver. I just hope I can make it that long. UGGHH!! ***UPDATE*** My surgery is scheduled! Friday the 28th. I'm both nervous and thrilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So even though my body is truly my own worst enemy and it's trying to sabotage every thing I do, it was still a successful trip. I enjoy the scenery, the company, and the time-off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time, though, I'm renting an RV and bringing the kids (and will hopefully be gall bladder free).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: medium none ; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I have tons of more pictures. As I get the cleaned up and edited I will throw them into future posts. So I apologize in advance for any Yellowstone Picture overload you may suffer. Hopefully, the beauty of the place will make up for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-798142142861245693?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/6Pxh5EOUZ_I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/798142142861245693/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=798142142861245693&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/798142142861245693?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/798142142861245693?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/6Pxh5EOUZ_I/new-life-experience-and-some-other.html" title="A New Life Experience... And Some Other Stuff" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_f482YpEkUHI/Sosb4x9zftI/AAAAAAAAChE/Qzcyl29CAzQ/s72-c/Yellowstone+Lake+and+Storm.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/08/new-life-experience-and-some-other.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkENQXcyeyp7ImA9WxNTEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-3293284162014591550</id><published>2009-08-12T16:36:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T17:44:50.993-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-12T17:44:50.993-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blogs" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Christian" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Religion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Why I Blog" /><title>Right and Wrong and Why I Believe It Doesn't Always Matter</title><content type="html">I've been blogging for just over 2 years. It's been a fantastic outlet and resource for me. I've "met" many wonderful people, seen many miracles, learned of inspiring stories, and been uplifted by lives of those around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, however, I came across a blog post that left me with a very heavy heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see... one of the types of blogs I like to read are those written by fellow "Christians Mommies" (if you will). I read those that aren't and those that don't say... but I can't help but enjoy those that share their faith and belief in the things of God. I don't care if they are of the same religion. In fact, MANY are not. That doesn't bother me though. I think it's just wonderful that we share a common belief in something. Be that a belief in Christ or even just choosing to live a life &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;with&lt;/span&gt; religion. Living a life governed by self-control, commandments, service, and self-sacrifice is not always the easiest decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has been many times, both here on this blog and over at my &lt;a href="http://www.noahsadventure.com"&gt;Noah's Adventure&lt;/a&gt; blog, that I have shared my own personal beliefs and testimony. I know many people probably don't agree with the things I believe but I have always hoped our differences would be over-looked and we could be united just as a people of faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always been very passionate about having the freedom of choice be it politics, religion, what movies to watch... Just as much as I don't want to have my beliefs attacked or questioned, I have tried very hard to give others that same right. That's not to say I don't mind a good discussion now and then. I don't mind talking about opinions and challenging a way of thought. Being constructive and challenging is very different than arguing and disparaging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have never understood why, with some people, for them to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;right&lt;/span&gt;... I have to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wrong&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it, that for you to share what you believe, you have to do it in a way that attacks or belittles what I believe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I have gotten older (and wiser, maybe???) I have decided that the best way, for myself, to help others understand me is by example and sharing a belief or testimony... not by pointing out all the things I disagree with about the other persons beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, when I read a fellow Christian Mommy blogger's post about all the things she "didn't believe", I was so disappointed (but it needs to be said that I am VERY against "hate commenting").  Now, I know by writing this, that I, in-fact, am no better. To avoid being hypocritical I need to admit that if someone's beliefs mean blatantly disagreeing with anothers, than that is their right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I do believe that there are times when it's more than just allowed, it's needed! Sometimes we shouldn't keep our mouths shut when we disagree. We have to stand up for what we believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I am trying to say is that it just saddened me. It's like, here I am, thinking that our common belief in God and Christ and living a life of faith was enough to unite us and give us a common ground to stand on. When what it really is, is that my faith and belief isn't good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you don't believe in Enternal Families... Okay. That's fine. That's just one of those things I guess I am thankful to believe in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you believe the Bible to be the only testamant of Christ.... Okay, that's fine too. I would rather you believe in Christ at all than not believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does it have to matter that we don't belong to the exact same church? Why do I have to be wrong for you to be right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I do believe in Forever Families does this mean my prayers don't count?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: medium none ; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-3293284162014591550?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/ntOGrTMsqy0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/3293284162014591550/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=3293284162014591550&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/3293284162014591550?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/3293284162014591550?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/ntOGrTMsqy0/right-and-wrong-and-why-i-believe-it.html" title="Right and Wrong and Why I Believe It Doesn't Always Matter" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/08/right-and-wrong-and-why-i-believe-it.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4EQ3w6fyp7ImA9WxNTEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-827579467363674725</id><published>2009-08-11T23:51:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T00:01:42.217-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-12T00:01:42.217-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Video" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lilly" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="School Program" /><title>She Shakes Her Sticks To Music Alright</title><content type="html">This is how truly stinky at blogging that I really am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilly graduated from her first year of preschool last May. Her class put on this cute little performance and sang songs and "walked down the aisle" for their year end treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, during one of the songs, Lilly used her rhythm stick as a microphone instead of tapping the beat. Her teacher, Miss Nicole, says she had never done this before. I guess she just got the wild urge to perform with all those people there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, it was the cutest thing ever and had the entire audience cracking up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The video quality isn't too great seeing as I recorded on the compact settings so it would be small enough to upload here. (I recorded it with every intention of posting this back before summer started and here I am doing it as we are getting ready for it to end... )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-dd0cb016f210c02c" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAABjzXX0P2a8vxnDt-OvRPGAuT6luURtG5OZC96TekuixdxPb2PG7uQHr_jN3LucyrsIbqg9uns-yEQ7ofrZco5v1S_WPdD7Onh5xIfen4n15TwsanGpu8bNYAdrmzfwCdm45hQC3dP78VB-TWYPcnpkljqYpeivKRt5C21-W7KAU0_Xp5eiLRgGkPSfgh2u9RW1j7DK8wO7mxoylKEz9wkMUsMPUFyUMy4VdoeNNaSyR%26sigh%3Dr_lZjf6xWvRsuTgVwyWb9C7FEHY%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddd0cb016f210c02c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DgjERNwAUrNtOjw2mVy_bEVaP8ac&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den"&gt;
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&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAABjzXX0P2a8vxnDt-OvRPGAuT6luURtG5OZC96TekuixdxPb2PG7uQHr_jN3LucyrsIbqg9uns-yEQ7ofrZco5v1S_WPdD7Onh5xIfen4n15TwsanGpu8bNYAdrmzfwCdm45hQC3dP78VB-TWYPcnpkljqYpeivKRt5C21-W7KAU0_Xp5eiLRgGkPSfgh2u9RW1j7DK8wO7mxoylKEz9wkMUsMPUFyUMy4VdoeNNaSyR%26sigh%3Dr_lZjf6xWvRsuTgVwyWb9C7FEHY%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddd0cb016f210c02c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DgjERNwAUrNtOjw2mVy_bEVaP8ac&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: medium none ; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-827579467363674725?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/YfDDTc96IvI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="enclosure" type="video/mp4" href="http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=dd0cb016f210c02c&amp;type=video%2Fmp4" length="0" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/827579467363674725/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=827579467363674725&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/827579467363674725?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/827579467363674725?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/YfDDTc96IvI/she-shakes-her-sticks-to-music-alright.html" title="She Shakes Her Sticks To Music Alright" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/08/she-shakes-her-sticks-to-music-alright.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04GRHo6cSp7ImA9WxJaFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417053125459153579.post-3725123269232750857</id><published>2009-08-07T18:04:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T18:38:45.419-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-07T18:38:45.419-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="forgiveness" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Open Letter" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship" /><title>To You (You Know Who You Are)</title><content type="html">Dear Friend,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how we got to this point or why, but it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we are all guilty of doing crazy, stupid, and selfish things at times and it's so easy to be angry, hurt, and frustrated. To place blame and point fingers. Forgiveness? Not always so easy. Shouldering our own responsibility for events?. . . Sometimes even harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I realized something today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because we make mistakes doesn't mean the people who love us should abandon us. And I think you have had enough of that to last two life times. I'm sure it's hard to expect anything different from people at this point. But this time it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made you a promise and it's a promise I intend to keep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to walk out on you. You can push me away. You can avoid me. You can take me for granted. I'm not giving up. Know why? Because that's what you do when you love someone. I won't let you use me. I will stand up for myself. But I will never walk out on you. And no matter how angry and hurt that I am (and truth be told, I have been VERY angry at you and very hurt by you lately), I will always be here for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day you will get it and just accept it. (Hell, maybe one day I will too and I'll stop being so hurt by things....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I'm not even close to being a perfect friend. I know there have been times that I have hurt you and I am truly sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know not everyone is as lucky to find a true friendship like we have. It's worth far more to me than carrying a grudge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when you are ready, know I am here. I have always been here and I always will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a promise that I intend to keep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/315/4628CF538D97469C4A7A365443B3BD2C.png" style="border: medium none ; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be A Hero. Be An Organ Donor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;Be a Hero.
Be an Organ Donor.&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4417053125459153579-3725123269232750857?l=www.memoirsofamommyblog.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~4/jnL2bOlyeAA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/feeds/3725123269232750857/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4417053125459153579&amp;postID=3725123269232750857&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/3725123269232750857?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4417053125459153579/posts/default/3725123269232750857?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/memoirsofamommyblog/~3/jnL2bOlyeAA/to-you-you-know-who-you-are.html" title="To You (You Know Who You Are)" /><author><name>Crysm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18376313265294506345</uri><email>memoirsofamommy@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="11831578116491159635" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.memoirsofamommyblog.com/2009/08/to-you-you-know-who-you-are.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>
