<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777</id><updated>2011-11-07T02:22:24.319-05:00</updated><category term='update Jan'/><category term='florida'/><category term='summer 2011'/><category term='school'/><category term='better blogger'/><category term='Tubal'/><category term='Mothers Day'/><title type='text'>Moving On</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm a mom of 2 wonderful kids. Nurse. Recently re-married to her ex-husband and continuing the journey of "Moving On"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>214</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5605549898763112679</id><published>2011-10-29T20:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T21:21:04.733-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tubal'/><title type='text'>I Haven't Cried Yet..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I haven't cried yet. I don't feel like I have to either. That is wierd to me. The weeks prior to the tubal I was having dreams. Many of them. Very wierd baby dreams, even Nick had a dream I was pregnant. I was feeling sad, and like I was going to be missing out on something. I truly felt in my heart that I wasn't finished having babies. As crazy as my life is, and as bad as my kids were being at the time, I still had that feeling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;So Tuesday was THE DAY.. We went to The Ambulatory Center at Stonybrook . They were all very nice. I waited about 10 min to go in, the RN was with me immedietly. I met everyone that will be involved in the surgery, including the cute, young, med student. Ugggg. It was very fast and very professional. I have to say I had absolutely NO complaints about the place. I was in and out in the time they said, and the pain was what they said it would be. The worse part was the head cold I was getting and got full on, that night. It really knocked me out, so between that and the surgery pain, I have felt pretty useless. Today is the first day that I have felt close to normal. The pain is down to an ache&lt;/span&gt; now and my head cold isnt bad at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I am waiting for the longing, and saddness to kick in, Even Bryan was surprised that I wasn't a mess. I guess I am relieved that I'm not. I suppose the anticipation was worse than the actual act.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I Still love the babies, but now I can just give them back...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I have come to realize that my family is perfect the way it is, and we are all just Moving On....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5605549898763112679?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5605549898763112679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5605549898763112679&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5605549898763112679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5605549898763112679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-havent-cried-yet.html' title='I Haven&apos;t Cried Yet..'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-3603200938318834059</id><published>2011-10-19T12:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T13:04:48.899-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='better blogger'/><title type='text'>I used to be so much better....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I used to be so much better at blogging then this. I guess it's because when I started blogging it was when my life was in shambles and my marriage was falling (or fell ) apart and I had alot to vent about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Now my life is great, so I should be blogging happy things. ...sigh..I'll try harder..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;OK so since the last post, The kids started school. Sara started Gymnastics, and dance again. Bryan re-started work, and I decided to get my tubes tied next week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Sara LOVES her teacher, Mrs Popal. She is still in the spanish/english class and is doing so well. We recieved a voicemail from her teacher about how well she is doing. We really are so proud of her, but I still think she is a 15 yr old girl trapped in a 6yr olds body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Nick claims he "hates " school. He is thriving in math. He loathes spelling but loves reading. The classes are way too big now, they excessed a ton of teaching jobs. He has 29 kids in his class. He's lucky we are as involved as we are with his education or he would be lost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;So next Tuesday I'm getting my tubes tied....sigh...I am SOOOO torn about this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;When me and Bryan got back together, I made a comment about having a "get back together baby". He took it as a joke, and I guess a part of me was joking and the other part not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;For some reason, I feel like I'm not finished. I know that I am 39 and would be considered "high risk" and all that crap but I cant help the way I feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Bryan thinks I am trying to fill a void or that something is missing in my life. I dont feel that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;We had this conversation a few times and it never ends well. I think I was holding out hope that he would change his mind, but that is how he feels, and I have to respect that. He has very valid reasons to feel that way. So tuesday it is. I need to get rid of my IUD and I am in a crossroads.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Life is good right now. Bryan likes his classes. I am still trying to get a LPN position back. I put in for a position in the hospital and I am waiting to hear something. Fingers crossed. I dont want to have to leave and get another job, but I cant be a tech forever, no matter how much I like dialysis. Another crossroad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I can't believe its almost November and the holidays are approaching. It went too fast I think. We are thinking about our next vacation, probably in April. We may travel to Myrtle Beach in Feb with the kids. Still in the talking phase.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Well that is about all that is major going on here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I will try to be a better blogger in the future &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Still Moving On....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-3603200938318834059?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/3603200938318834059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=3603200938318834059&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3603200938318834059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3603200938318834059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-used-to-be-so-much-bette.html' title='I used to be so much better....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4983779038674630032</id><published>2011-07-18T09:36:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T23:07:22.114-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer 2011'/><title type='text'>Summer Summer Summer...summer Time!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CruIzJTAkv0/TiRLgjYDVgI/AAAAAAAAAko/158qVitaS7U/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630708456743982594" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CruIzJTAkv0/TiRLgjYDVgI/AAAAAAAAAko/158qVitaS7U/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B084.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5QFO1bzJ-i8/TiRLf0KqYuI/AAAAAAAAAkg/tEYVF_32oWw/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630708444071355106" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5QFO1bzJ-i8/TiRLf0KqYuI/AAAAAAAAAkg/tEYVF_32oWw/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B083.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hGZcf202pPQ/TiRLfiR_wPI/AAAAAAAAAkY/0G-O8697phY/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630708439270277362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hGZcf202pPQ/TiRLfiR_wPI/AAAAAAAAAkY/0G-O8697phY/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B081.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uvDHwhVqU38/TiRLfWj3XFI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/gV-mqtnfMVg/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630708436123999314" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uvDHwhVqU38/TiRLfWj3XFI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/gV-mqtnfMVg/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B079.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eDz40JiungU/TiRK7K8pyiI/AAAAAAAAAkI/No6MMhyK9yA/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630707814531451426" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eDz40JiungU/TiRK7K8pyiI/AAAAAAAAAkI/No6MMhyK9yA/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B072.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LL_9sdbP39c/TiRK6SoKzRI/AAAAAAAAAj4/rqdlaiOGS_g/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630707799413148946" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LL_9sdbP39c/TiRK6SoKzRI/AAAAAAAAAj4/rqdlaiOGS_g/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B067.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wOMAvMUTNJQ/TiRK6y-1pWI/AAAAAAAAAkA/eWVYmQCN-zA/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630707808098166114" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wOMAvMUTNJQ/TiRK6y-1pWI/AAAAAAAAAkA/eWVYmQCN-zA/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B069.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oWtg3x352LQ/TiRK6Bzu6MI/AAAAAAAAAjw/FLmBiWMtkB0/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 221px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630707794898249922" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oWtg3x352LQ/TiRK6Bzu6MI/AAAAAAAAAjw/FLmBiWMtkB0/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B061.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TeqJmU6c5Xg/TiRK5jYasJI/AAAAAAAAAjo/yCClF-hlpwQ/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630707786730614930" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TeqJmU6c5Xg/TiRK5jYasJI/AAAAAAAAAjo/yCClF-hlpwQ/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B058.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--ySTJPqO0Bc/TiRKMWdgoXI/AAAAAAAAAjg/h4-kCHhIjGA/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630707010168201586" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--ySTJPqO0Bc/TiRKMWdgoXI/AAAAAAAAAjg/h4-kCHhIjGA/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B056.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MgEEswWmnzg/TiRKKj3AVpI/AAAAAAAAAjI/6-JBOg_l3BE/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630706979405059730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MgEEswWmnzg/TiRKKj3AVpI/AAAAAAAAAjI/6-JBOg_l3BE/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B042.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Eq1axESOyeY/TiRKLx-HH1I/AAAAAAAAAjY/2g8uG6ZNOp0/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 257px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 378px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630707000372830034" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Eq1axESOyeY/TiRKLx-HH1I/AAAAAAAAAjY/2g8uG6ZNOp0/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B053.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-9BEubNULQ/TiRKLi7kuNI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/XeemQ3Nh9NA/s1600/sommer%2B2011%2B048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630706996335655122" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-9BEubNULQ/TiRKLi7kuNI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/XeemQ3Nh9NA/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B048.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630706974408594098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z4dtI8UZ9cU/TiRKKRPwUrI/AAAAAAAAAjA/SAm5aa1nJKw/s200/sommer%2B2011%2B027.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Im ending my vacation today. I was on vacation all week and it was very busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday we had the kids Birthday Pool Prty. alot of fun., only 12 kids which was nice, not overwhelming. They got some nice gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Monday we went to Smithpoint beach. I was nervous because they have never been to the ocean, and they are used to just jumping into the water. I had to set down the rules for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Needless to say, they were fine and LOVED it. No fear whatsoever, which is scary too. They had an amazing time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tuesday I had a Dr appt, so afterwards we went to the Ecology site. We had a play date afterwards with my friend Julie and her kids. The kids had a great time. Love playdates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wed. we all went to the Atlantis Aquarium. Sara has never been there, so she was SOOO excited. They both loved it. They walked in a salt marsh, picked up crabs and water snails. They went on a ride very far up in the sky to see the whole aquarium. I stayed on the ground (safely) and took pictures .. We saw a sea lion show, she touched a sting ray, and they loved the sharks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thurs. We went to Splish splash with my friend Liz and her daughter and niece. What a blast!! an exhausting blast....I just may be getting too old for that place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday was a stay at home playdate cuz momma was too tired to move....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nick and Sara both had friends over. Its good for us to do it that way so noone feels left out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday was a stay at home day too, but I had to get my oil changed in the car so I DID have to move for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We took Sara to nana Beths and Oaks for a sleep over. She had a great time, I was a little lonely. It was quiet though, I have to admit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday we had to go to NJ for Nicks first Karate Tournament. Not too bad of a a ride, long day. It was fun watching everyone from different schools do their Karate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nick went up with his group, and he forgot some moves. So did a few others, so it wasnt so bad. He got little confused as to which form he was doing. He got a 4th place medal. So proud of him. He will go to others and just get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm taking Sara to a trial at a gymnastics place. She wants to try it out. She is already signed up for dance for September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cant believe it is almost August already. It is going by too fast. It hs been such a fun summer so far, I dont want it to end...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4983779038674630032?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4983779038674630032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4983779038674630032&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4983779038674630032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4983779038674630032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2011/07/summer-summer-summersummer-time.html' title='Summer Summer Summer...summer Time!!!'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CruIzJTAkv0/TiRLgjYDVgI/AAAAAAAAAko/158qVitaS7U/s72-c/sommer%2B2011%2B084.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4001721889103230994</id><published>2011-03-26T07:46:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-26T08:35:01.362-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='florida'/><title type='text'>First Family Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jFjORDwo63s/TY3p6vTZV-I/AAAAAAAAAi0/8vdKA9fqmVY/s1600/Florida%2B2011%2B037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588379907976157154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jFjORDwo63s/TY3p6vTZV-I/AAAAAAAAAi0/8vdKA9fqmVY/s200/Florida%2B2011%2B037.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2Mz_LgR0I_E/TY3p6V0wdwI/AAAAAAAAAis/MQYld3absgA/s1600/Florida%2B2011%2B023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588379901136762626" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2Mz_LgR0I_E/TY3p6V0wdwI/AAAAAAAAAis/MQYld3absgA/s200/Florida%2B2011%2B023.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oi_zvomIUiA/TY3p6IgSuBI/AAAAAAAAAic/_Kf11cwf0UM/s1600/Florida%2B2011%2B016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588379897561266194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oi_zvomIUiA/TY3p6IgSuBI/AAAAAAAAAic/_Kf11cwf0UM/s200/Florida%2B2011%2B016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JUHiN08z2oo/TY3p5uQmYPI/AAAAAAAAAiU/Bte-LEpw_mM/s1600/Florida%2B2011%2B006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588379890516123890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JUHiN08z2oo/TY3p5uQmYPI/AAAAAAAAAiU/Bte-LEpw_mM/s200/Florida%2B2011%2B006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rAF0do6Y-fY/TY3p6UoarTI/AAAAAAAAAik/hV6bmoyy2-M/s1600/Florida%2B2011%2B007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588379900816567602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rAF0do6Y-fY/TY3p6UoarTI/AAAAAAAAAik/hV6bmoyy2-M/s200/Florida%2B2011%2B007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lNfbDrJGL58/TY3o3eIPP0I/AAAAAAAAAiM/SRVXMDow8sQ/s1600/Florida%2B2011%2B076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588378752314720066" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lNfbDrJGL58/TY3o3eIPP0I/AAAAAAAAAiM/SRVXMDow8sQ/s200/Florida%2B2011%2B076.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hDEZQc9ILzE/TY3o28qq0BI/AAAAAAAAAh0/MZ1MUBivFSE/s1600/Florida%2B2011%2B033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588378743332327442" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hDEZQc9ILzE/TY3o28qq0BI/AAAAAAAAAh0/MZ1MUBivFSE/s200/Florida%2B2011%2B033.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588378750054962130" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-08Wfep-JYnY/TY3o3VteE9I/AAAAAAAAAiE/C304TulJVLA/s200/Florida%2B2011%2B049.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Florida was amazing, truly amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was a little (ok alot) leery about the kids on the plane. I have to say, they were great. They hung out at the gate, read, played games till it was time to go. They were excited on take off, not sick at all. (ps. when i was 6, i threw my guts up on a plane) Sara loved looking out the window, she thought it was so cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Landing in Orlando and dragging around our luggage sucked! big time. I know it had to be done, but still. We rented a Town and Country min van which I loved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The room was beautiful. 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, deck outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aunt Sherry and her kids, and grandson came to hang with us at the pool. The pool was beautiful, water fall cliffs, volleyball net, cabanas. The kids loved it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday, we went to Disney Magic Kingdom. We took a little shuttle from where the parking lot was to the ticket booth, then we took a boat over to Magic Kingdom. I told Sara, Planes Trains and automobiles, now she can say she has been on them all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a Princess breakfast lined up, that was great. We met Cinderella first thing. Then during breakfast we met Ariel, Belle, Sleeping Beauty, and Snow white.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We then walked around the park, got characters autographs, hit some rides, saw a parade, they had a blast. But by 4 pm they were exhausted and done. Alot of waiting in lines.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Monday we dubbed it a pool day. We hung out by the pool, and found another pool in the area that had a big slide. They had a blast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tuesday we were supposed to go to Hollywood Studios. Well Nick woke up with a fever and sore throat that he has been fighting for a day or so. The fever was new and he was crying in pain. I called the front and they had a DR that would come to the room. She was very nice. The results were, Nick had Strep. Great...on vaca of course! So change of plans. B went golfing and we went to the pool. Nick had to stay out, and he was a trooper about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wed we did Hollywood Studio. It was great, and by far my favorite. Characters, parades, alot of shows. I loved it, the kids hated the lines, but liked the shows once we got in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Journey under the Sea with Ariel, Muppet's in 3D, was fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also got a charm for my bracelet at Hollywood studios. Adorable mickey and Minny one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday my Brother and nephew came for a visit, we hung out at the pool and went to dinner later. It was so good to see him. I missed him and Anthony so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday was the day to leave. Nick told me he was 50% happy to leave and 50% sad.. I agreed totally. I was very excited to get home, because while we were gone, the inside of the house was being painted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The airport was a nightmare again, but we made it through. The plane ride was tough, alot of kids and noise. They lost one of our bags, but we got it back at midnight last night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My house looks amazing, but I have to spend the weekend putting it back together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So glad to be home, our first family trip was a success!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4001721889103230994?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4001721889103230994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4001721889103230994&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4001721889103230994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4001721889103230994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2011/03/first-family-trip.html' title='First Family Trip'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jFjORDwo63s/TY3p6vTZV-I/AAAAAAAAAi0/8vdKA9fqmVY/s72-c/Florida%2B2011%2B037.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-432067381744255054</id><published>2011-03-09T08:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T08:52:23.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>My life is pretty good right now. I am sitting here looking out my back window staring at a pool, that I cant wait to open.&lt;br /&gt;We are planning a family vacation, that will be so much fun...&lt;br /&gt;I love my husband  more now than the day I married him (the 2nd time)&lt;br /&gt;My kids are great, smart, funny children. I realize how good they are when I am around other children that arent so good. I cherish them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is pretty good right now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-432067381744255054?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/432067381744255054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=432067381744255054&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/432067381744255054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/432067381744255054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2011/03/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6263287347359714590</id><published>2011-03-05T17:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T17:49:55.428-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update....</title><content type='html'>A few things that has been going on here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* My moms birthday came and went. I worked, I was sad, I moved on.&lt;br /&gt;* My moms death day came and went. I worked, I was sad, I moved on.&lt;br /&gt;* I decided we needed a cleaning lady. She started on Tues. Every other Tues will be the best day of my life. It was like a new house. It is still pretty clean too. Nice.&lt;br /&gt;* We are 14 days away from going to Florida. Disney to be exact. I CANNOT wait. I am so excited. I havent started packing yet, but I have made a list....baby steps&lt;br /&gt;*My sis and dad are still living next door. As far as I know, they are both alive, but not in perfect harmony...Its hard living with a parent when you havent in years. They will be fine.&lt;br /&gt;* My sons birthday is this month. He will be 8 and he can almost lay his head on my shoulder. STANDING. He is a giant. I love him to pieces..&lt;br /&gt;* Right now we are getting a chair rail in the dining room. When we are on vaca we will be having the downstairs painted. I cant wait. I dont know if I am more excited about vaca or coming home to a brand new painted house.&lt;br /&gt;* We all have cabin fever. No one wants to be inside anymore. The school has been doing some fun stuff which is good. It gets the kids out of the house for a while.&lt;br /&gt;That about sums it up for now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6263287347359714590?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6263287347359714590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6263287347359714590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6263287347359714590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6263287347359714590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2011/03/update.html' title='Update....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6217417244398999729</id><published>2011-01-31T09:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T10:05:17.166-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='update Jan'/><title type='text'>I know I know</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPLBX1e8I/AAAAAAAAAg4/klkrMVruzCI/s1600/xmas%2Bcard%2Bpix%2B2010%2B006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568365777544117186" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPLBX1e8I/AAAAAAAAAg4/klkrMVruzCI/s200/xmas%2Bcard%2Bpix%2B2010%2B006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPK7A4odI/AAAAAAAAAgw/_likMQDjPt0/s1600/xmas%2Bcard%2Bpix%2B2010%2B004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568365775837241810" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPK7A4odI/AAAAAAAAAgw/_likMQDjPt0/s200/xmas%2Bcard%2Bpix%2B2010%2B004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPKAvdtRI/AAAAAAAAAgo/tWHilyEkPk4/s1600/x-mas%2B2010%2B012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568365760194917650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPKAvdtRI/AAAAAAAAAgo/tWHilyEkPk4/s200/x-mas%2B2010%2B012.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPJw8HHTI/AAAAAAAAAgg/z9ugdy4Q1q8/s1600/x-mas%2B2010%2B009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568365755952995634" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPJw8HHTI/AAAAAAAAAgg/z9ugdy4Q1q8/s200/x-mas%2B2010%2B009.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPJhfGSgI/AAAAAAAAAgY/P6E4vd0Da-o/s1600/x-mas%2B2010%2B006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568365751804774914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPJhfGSgI/AAAAAAAAAgY/P6E4vd0Da-o/s200/x-mas%2B2010%2B006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, I know its been a long time since I blogged. It's not that I dont have anything to say, cuz seriously, have you met me?? I guess life just got in the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So christmas came and went. It was fun, and exciting. I have never been off on Christmas day since I started in the nursing field. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was just as I imagined it would be, the excitement of them running down the stairs, their little faces glowing and the screaming...It was fun..Then we made breakfast, and the hubby made a fabulous turkey dinner. He can cook ,(once a year)..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also decided to take classes for my RN. They are online classes, with modules to read and tests to take. It is taking me much longer than I had hoped. Its alot of information to learn and I dont want to take the test and fail it. I am taking it slow so I learn it and I am confidant that I know the info before I take a test. I just feel like it is taking forever to get through A&amp;amp;P. I think I am putting too much pressure on myself, because I really dont have a time limit. I would like to do it in a year to a year in a half.. I am just scared of failure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are planning a vacation in March to Florida, Disney world!! I CAN NOT wait...Mainly because we havent had a family vacation. EVER. I think the kids will be beside themselves. But I am leary about the plane ride. Although, they are more excited to be able to chew gum on the plane!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is my moms birthday. She would have been 71. I miss her so much...I am still so sad that she died before she saw how happy I am now, and to know that my family is back together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things are still wonderful in our little family.. The kids are great. A few colds here and there. They still love school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cant stand this snow anymore. I have already fallen twice, and Nick just fell this morning. Spring hurry please!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still Moving On, in the right direction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6217417244398999729?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6217417244398999729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6217417244398999729&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6217417244398999729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6217417244398999729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-know-i-know.html' title='I know I know'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TUbPLBX1e8I/AAAAAAAAAg4/klkrMVruzCI/s72-c/xmas%2Bcard%2Bpix%2B2010%2B006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1265305198804534561</id><published>2010-12-03T17:38:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T17:57:28.701-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving mini-vaca</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl1rpYmvhI/AAAAAAAAAgM/Rr5kFLG7mj8/s1600/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl1rpYmvhI/AAAAAAAAAgM/Rr5kFLG7mj8/s200/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B015.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546593808787357202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl1irqHnUI/AAAAAAAAAgE/sTsLwELH5zE/s200/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B014.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546593654778862914" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl1YI_h_nI/AAAAAAAAAf8/IPlrkRmQdP4/s200/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B010.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546593473674739314" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl1OmlpiZI/AAAAAAAAAf0/JIQJQiyH_Is/s1600/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl1OmlpiZI/AAAAAAAAAf0/JIQJQiyH_Is/s200/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546593309820553618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl1DFHcfqI/AAAAAAAAAfs/4jXqRZOwK6c/s1600/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl1DFHcfqI/AAAAAAAAAfs/4jXqRZOwK6c/s200/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546593111856938658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl04j5R9BI/AAAAAAAAAfk/P16NWwPuGLM/s200/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B006.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546592931140465682" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl0tmYUWWI/AAAAAAAAAfc/31iD9UVtrmw/s200/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B001.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546592742828956002" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;This Thanksgiving we decided to go upstate to visit the hubby's  Aunt P. and family. Aunt D and the kids came early so we got plenty of visiting in. My kids are in love with their cousins! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;So I worked on Wed before Thanksgiving, so we left afterwards at around 5. We packed the van, stopped at 7-11 and realized we forgot the directions. Dam. When we got BACK home, I realized that I also forgot the plug for the computer!! Yikes, it would really have been a looonnnggg ride upstate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;The kids were awesome on the trip there. They watched movies, and hardly complained at all. We stopped at Cracker Barrel for dinner. Yummo! So glad we found it!.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;When we got there, it was crazy for a little while, then things calmed down. We got a lot of quality family time. We went to Neils for dinner, it was very good, and relaxing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;We left on Friday , after a very fun and relaxing time had by all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;I really enjoy seeing them. They are the polar opposite of my family, which isn't a bad thing, just different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1265305198804534561?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1265305198804534561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1265305198804534561&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1265305198804534561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1265305198804534561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/12/thanksgiving-mini-vaca.html' title='Thanksgiving mini-vaca'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TPl1rpYmvhI/AAAAAAAAAgM/Rr5kFLG7mj8/s72-c/Thanksgiving%2B2010%2BAunt%2BP%2B015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6839626739992597097</id><published>2010-11-30T12:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T13:01:54.428-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day # 15 Someone you couldn't live without because you have tried living without.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Well, I have said that my divorce is my biggest regret in my life. One that had to happen none the less, because we wouldn't be the way we are today if it didn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I don't want to say that I couldn't live without him, in a sense that I would die if we didn't get back together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My life was not the same. It always felt like something was missing, even though I had a boyfriend too. My life was essentially up side down, and i always felt like nothing was quite right, like I couldn't put my finger on it. There was an emptiness that was always there, even if I didn't acknowledge it at all times. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I felt and acted like everything was ok and I had it all together, but truth was I didn't. I THOUGHT I did too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I didn't figure it out till Feb. 15th of 2009, when it all came together, and I am so happy it did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6839626739992597097?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6839626739992597097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6839626739992597097&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6839626739992597097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6839626739992597097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-15-someone-you-couldnt-live-without.html' title='Day # 15 Someone you couldn&apos;t live without because you have tried living without.'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6878188775051096756</id><published>2010-11-22T23:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T23:40:55.734-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day# 14 A Hero that has let you down.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;A Hero? Hmmm... funny enough, I don't feel like I have a hero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;If I would have to pick, I think I would choose myself as my own hero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The only time I let myself down was when me and the hubby divorced. It was the lowest point in my life, and the only time that I really felt like a failure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The reason I chose myself as my own hero, is because I don't feel I need to look up to anyone else,or prove anything to anyone but myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I put myself on a pedestal, I make my own good or bad choices and I only have myself to blame or to hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I have done a lot in my life and lived through some pain, which has made me stronger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Between growing up poor, my parents poor health, a bad marriage in which I was verbally abused, another divorce, my mom dying, and a remarriage to a wonderful man. I am finally at a place in my life that I am happy and can remain a hero to myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6878188775051096756?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6878188775051096756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6878188775051096756&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6878188775051096756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6878188775051096756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-14-hero-that-has-let-you-down.html' title='Day# 14 A Hero that has let you down.'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4590889491669077392</id><published>2010-11-17T10:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T10:58:20.587-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day# 13 An Artist that has gotten you through some tough days. Write a Letter</title><content type='html'>I love music. All types. Not as many types as my hubby, but I definitely think I have listened outside the box. &lt;div&gt;Growing up, all I remember is Country music, Roy Orbison, and Barry Mannilow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I eventually started buying my own Barry Mannilow CDs. I related to a lot of his songs, and he wasn't a "dream boat", so his poster wasn't on my wall. Which I liked. It made me feel like a grown up liking a "real" singer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I got older, he remained my favorite singer, and my "go to" CD when i was struggling with what to listen to in the car. When I met the hubby, I found out he really liked him to. (ahem...soul mate..) In total we have seen him in concert 3 times together.  So it only made sense that when we were going through some tough times I listened to Barry to make me feel better. So..I shall write him a letter. Barry.. not the hubby..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Barry, ( I would call you Mr., but we have know each other for so long its, not necessary)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;     The first thing I would like to say to you is thanks. You have been such a pivotal part of my life. First, with my mom, and then with my husband. When we first started dating (the hubby, not you. Although I wouldn't mind it) he lived in a little converted garage dubbed the "love shack". We were both newly divorcing, and trying to find ourselves, when we found each other. We spent a wonderful weekend together, and I had to go home and decide the fate of my life. Just leaving my ex husband, and figuring out how to be alone again after many years. I was confused, and scared, and happy at the same time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Driving home, I popped you into my CD player, and "Weekend In New England" came on and so did a light bulb over my head. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We just had a wonderful weekend. When will I see him again? Do I want my life without him? I already missed him, so I couldn't imagine NOT seeing him again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The decision was made. Not necessarily BY you, but with your help.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have had our ups and down, split up and gotten back together. In the time we were apart, I couldn't listen to you, simply because it hurt too much.  But you remained in the visor of my car for the moment that I needed you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Driving on a family trip last summer I popped you in and "Coppa" came on. My daughter went nuts and loves your music. She is 5yrs old and knows that "weekend" is mommy and daddy's song. I hope she grows up to love you as much as I do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for the Memories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                  A Forever Fan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                  xxoo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4590889491669077392?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4590889491669077392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4590889491669077392&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4590889491669077392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4590889491669077392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-13-artist-that-has-gotten-you.html' title='Day# 13 An Artist that has gotten you through some tough days. Write a Letter'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-3152401965761958307</id><published>2010-11-06T20:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T20:17:11.027-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day #12. Something You Never get Compliments On</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I have to say that this post is pretty difficult for me. I even asked the hubby for help and he had no idea (thanks B, very helpful).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;It's not difficult because I get soooo many compliments daily. In fact I don't really like compliments. They embarrass me actually. So, if and when I do get them, I usually make a joke while thanking the person. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I get compliments on my children mostly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When I first saw this Truth to write about, the first thing I thought of was Patience. I don't get told that I have a fabulous amount of patients. Probably because I don't think I do. Come to think of it, I have never complimented anyone on THEIR patience. I have said it in a joke, but never seriously. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I suppose that Patience is something that I will have to work on for myself and my children.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-3152401965761958307?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/3152401965761958307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=3152401965761958307&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3152401965761958307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3152401965761958307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-12-something-you-never-get.html' title='Day #12. Something You Never get Compliments On'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-2004321152868321304</id><published>2010-11-02T10:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T10:19:48.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Halloween!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TNArWCLOUFI/AAAAAAAAAfU/akcAkrcRQQ0/s1600/halloween+2010+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TNArWCLOUFI/AAAAAAAAAfU/akcAkrcRQQ0/s200/halloween+2010+016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534971599579402322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the kids school  they had a word parade. It was fun for them. Sara was "gift" hence the box she was in. Nick was "sand" wearing a t-shirt. Didnt get a picture of him. On Sunday we met up with my friend Jess and her kids. Ava (girlfriend) she was peach and he was Mario from Mario Kartz Wii. Then there were the super girls. It was a long day but a fun day. Kinda glad its over..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TNArV9nrZTI/AAAAAAAAAfM/SnacmMfsRzE/s1600/halloween+2010+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TNArV9nrZTI/AAAAAAAAAfM/SnacmMfsRzE/s200/halloween+2010+010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534971598356571442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TNArVW57uwI/AAAAAAAAAfE/fkzFkxmO2Co/s1600/halloween+2010+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TNArVW57uwI/AAAAAAAAAfE/fkzFkxmO2Co/s200/halloween+2010+007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534971587964156674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-2004321152868321304?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/2004321152868321304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=2004321152868321304&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2004321152868321304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2004321152868321304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/11/happy-halloween.html' title='Happy Halloween!!!'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TNArWCLOUFI/AAAAAAAAAfU/akcAkrcRQQ0/s72-c/halloween+2010+016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-2337107878075490845</id><published>2010-10-31T11:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T11:36:28.962-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day# 11 Something That people have complimented you on.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;     This one is easy. People have always complimented me on my personality. I am a very outgoing person, I know this. But, the ONE thing that really stands out to me that people mention is my sense of humor. I. crack. myself. up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I also tend to look at the bright side of things, and don't let much bother me. My dad calls in being an "air head" but I beg to differ. Airheads, to me are flighty about everything. (think blonde girl twirling her hair and giggling)I,on the other hand, take certain things very serious, like my job and family. But I don't walk around with the world on my shoulders, and I only let certain things burden me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;     I love to laugh and joke about most things, I love my life, and my family. I consider my self a happy person. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am also very funny. I find funny things in most everything, and share my perspective on them, with anyone really. My mom always said that was my best trait, and my hubby says that is what is attractive to him. Thats a plus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I like being funny and making people laugh. It's helpful that my hubby is funny too, so we play off each other. We have the same type humor. I love it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I liked this post. It was an upper, instead of the downers I have been having to write. yay me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-2337107878075490845?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/2337107878075490845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=2337107878075490845&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2337107878075490845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2337107878075490845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-11-something-that-people-have.html' title='Day# 11 Something That people have complimented you on.'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5980217411347491391</id><published>2010-10-29T09:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T09:59:35.184-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day # 10 Someone You Wish You Didn't Know</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;     I thought a lot about this post. I wanted to be honest with myself, which is what this 30 days of truth is really about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;     I could very easily just say its my ex sister in law and call it a day. However, I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. I say that so many times, I think I may have my own sister actually believing it. The forever pessimist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;     There is no one in my life that I wish I didn't know. Everyone in my life is there for a reason, a purpose. I have learned something from everyone in my life. Good or Bad. There are, however, people in my life that I no longer want to speak to, or bother with. But they are still a part of my life regardless how far away or tucked into the back of my mind they are. I am still glad that they were there .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Boring I know, but it is the truth.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5980217411347491391?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5980217411347491391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5980217411347491391&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5980217411347491391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5980217411347491391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-10-someone-you-wish-you-didnt-know.html' title='Day # 10 Someone You Wish You Didn&apos;t Know'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-3313249439394491783</id><published>2010-10-27T13:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T13:47:23.979-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day #9 Someone You didn't want to let go but just drifted.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;     Well I believe everyone knows that I have been married before. I mean before THIS 2nd marriage. Geeze, I can barely keep up myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;     My first marriage ended badly. I was young, he was abusive, etc..etc... The one good thing I did get out of it was my friend Tinaann. Tina was special, different than any other friend I had. She was my husbands, best friends, girlfriend, and we fell instantly into a friendship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;When my marriage ended, her boyfriend wanted her to stop talking to me and being friends. He figure, I left his best friend, so therefor I cant have any more friends connected to them. Well Tina said "No, You wanted me to become friends with her, I did and I'm gonna remain friends". That was brave of her, because at that time they were planning a wedding themselves and it caused a lot of fights with them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;     I missed a lot in her life because of the circumstances, her wedding for starters. I wasn't allowed to go because my ex was in the wedding party. Never mind that we both moved on, her husband didn't want me there. I wasn't allowed to go to her baby's christening either. I did get to attend her sons birthday parties only because, out of me and the ex, I had the kids so I won.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;     It was hard being her friend at times because her husband didn't like me anymore. Suddenly I was the enemy. Never mind, that he saw first hand the way I was treated by my ex, he still didn't like the fact that I divorced him. Most of the times, for many years we had to make plans to see each other around her husbands work schedule. It was very annoying, and rude to me. It caused some arguments in my own marriage, but I just figured that was the price I had to pay to see her, and I was lucky that we remained friends as long as we did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;     Last year Tina had another baby. A girl I was able to see when she was born. Now granted her husband has decided that I was worthy enough to go to his sons birthday party, and even make a little small talk. It has been 10yrs since this happened, time to move on! Or so I thought. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;     Tina has been having these get togethers at her house on Thursday nights over the summer. She just invited some girls from the neighborhood. I called her one day for an unrelated matter and she mentioned this to me. So first off, I wasn't invited when this "get together" first started. I was clearly an after thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Fine. But again, I did want to see her, so I started to go on thursdays. The 2nd Thurs I go, I find out the following weekend was her daughters birthday party and I wasn't invited! Why? I ask. Well, she says her husband said that my ex was going to therefore I can't go. 10yrs later BTW. Well, I argued that I had ALWAYS had the birthdays, because my ex had no children. She agreed and she will state her case to her husband. I get a phone call saying her husband said "Scott is MY friend and I am inviting him, so you and Stacy can just get over it"  HMPH... really?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Well, needless to say my feelings were very hurt, but I bucked up and went over there the following Thurs for our get together. There were 4 of us. 2 who didnt go to the party, and Tina and her friend Jenn who did. She spent the entire night laughing and reliving the birthday party with her friend Jenn, that I wasn't invited to. There was a clown that they were making fun of and laughing about the kids etc,..etc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Come to find out, my ex sat in the corner with his wife who proceeded to get very drunk and threw up in his car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;     This may not sound like a big deal, however, to me it was huge. This was the first time I wasn't allowed to do something with the kids that I normally do. Which means to me that her husband has finally won the battle of disconnecting us as friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;As the summer went on, she continued to call and see if I can come over. I decided that I didn't want to be in her house, and invited her over to mine. We have the pool, the kids could play, and we could spend time together. Every time I asked her over, it was one excuse after another. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;It got to the point that I just stopped asking, and she just stopped calling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;I don't know if I really miss her, being that it was so difficult to be her friend, and she didn't put in the effort. There are aspects of our friendship that I did like and I miss, but most of it was too complicated. I think we just drifted. If she calls again and wants to make an effort, I will try again. But, for right now, she is a friend that used to be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-3313249439394491783?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/3313249439394491783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=3313249439394491783&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3313249439394491783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3313249439394491783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-9-someone-you-didnt-want-to-let-go.html' title='Day #9 Someone You didn&apos;t want to let go but just drifted.'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5438638644059195342</id><published>2010-10-22T19:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T20:02:02.332-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day #8 Someone Who Made Your life Hell or treated you poorly.</title><content type='html'>Well this actually is an easy post. Unfortunately, after reading over all the topics, I think this person will occupy most of my blog. Not in a good way!&lt;div&gt;As I mentioned in a past post, My sister in law is not a good person in any sense of the word. She hasn't made my life hell, but she HAS treated me and my family poorly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My brother is making the worst decision of his life and is working on getting back together with her. She may then, make my life hell! I thought I had all the evil out of my life, but he is bringing it back in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will work on the forgiveness that I posted about, but it is tougher than it sounds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5438638644059195342?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5438638644059195342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5438638644059195342&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5438638644059195342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5438638644059195342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-8-someone-who-made-your-life-hell.html' title='Day #8 Someone Who Made Your life Hell or treated you poorly.'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-2441166683399861706</id><published>2010-10-17T19:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T19:25:58.992-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day #7 Someone That Has Made Your Life Worth Living For</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;     Once again I am going to have to say that my children are the one (or two) things in my life that has made my life worth living.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;   I have people in my extended family that have chosen not to have children. Its funny, because knowing them, I couldn't IMAGINE them WITH kids. They are very selfish self centered people, possibly because they can be. I don't know if they had children, if it would change the way they are? Or if they are that way BECAUSE they don't have kids. Who knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;   My whole life I knew, just knew that I was going to have kids. I wanted to have them young. Didn't happen. I had Nicky when I was 30. But I knew there would be children in my life. I also knew that if I couldn't have kids, I would adopt them. B and I had that conversation long, before we even moved in together or even fathomed getting married and starting a life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;    My children are my life. I gave them all the good in me, and am trying to make them into the best humans I can. They definitely have made my life worth living, and made me a better person living it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-2441166683399861706?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/2441166683399861706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=2441166683399861706&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2441166683399861706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2441166683399861706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-7-someone-that-has-made-your-life.html' title='Day #7 Someone That Has Made Your Life Worth Living For'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-2613260971613781096</id><published>2010-10-16T19:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T19:45:22.027-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day # 6 Something you hope you never have to do</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;     This seems like an easy one to me because there are a TON of things that I hope I never have to do. Such as:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;CPR on a child &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Go to an Oncologist. For Anyone in my family. Ever. again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Mow a lawn, the sound kills me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Get divorced again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Have surgery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Those are a few things that I hope never happens in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The MAIN thing, I hope I will never have to do is bury one of my children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When I hear that someone had to bury their child, whatever the age, it hurts my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;We are the parents. WE are supposed to die before our children. After they are grown and with amazing families of their own. Settled and happy in their life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I don't know if I could handle my life anymore if I had to bury one of my kids. The pain would slowly kill me, and although I know I would have to move on for the other child, I don't know if I could survive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-2613260971613781096?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/2613260971613781096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=2613260971613781096&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2613260971613781096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2613260971613781096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-6-something-you-hope-you-never-have.html' title='Day # 6 Something you hope you never have to do'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1641544191494704311</id><published>2010-10-15T11:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T11:21:50.024-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day #5 Something You Hope to do in your Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;     I feel my life is full. Not just busy, which it is, but full. I have done everything in my life that I knew I wanted to do when I was 16 and sitting around with my friends trying to figure out what our life will be like. I received an education, in a field that I love. I got married (at 16 I didn't think it would be so many times, but whatev.) I have 2 beautiful, and healthy children. I am very happy with my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The only thing I think I would hope to do, is travel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Its not like I sit around pining to leave this country. I don't. However, if I could take a vacation every year. That would make me happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The only thing that would stop me, is that fact that I hate traveling. Oh, I like going to other places, don't get me wrong. It's everything that goes along with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Starting with the packing, (and forgetting) everything you own, just in case you need it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Leaving at the ass crack of dawn, because who wants to spend the ENTIRE day traveling, so you get the earliest flight possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Waiting! OH the WAITING!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Shoving myself into an uncomfortable seat, and waiting for the stomach drop, ears popping lurch of the plane taking off, and praying to anything that is good and HOLY that we make it there alive!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The end of the trip is the worst. Not only are you sad and depressed that your vaca ended, now you have 14 loads of laundry to do too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I Need to invent a machine that can just get me there and back with a blink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Oh, and we have NEVER traveled with kids. Which is to say they have NEVER been on any mode of transportation other than a car. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Hmmm maybe I don't hope to travel!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1641544191494704311?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1641544191494704311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1641544191494704311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1641544191494704311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1641544191494704311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-5-something-you-hope-to-do-in-your.html' title='Day #5 Something You Hope to do in your Life'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1938634847008865804</id><published>2010-10-12T15:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T15:37:25.635-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day #4 Something I have to Forgive Someone else for.</title><content type='html'>So I read a few blogs and some of them know each other. I, know none of them. One of my favorite bloggers started  "30 Days of Truth", where each day they blog about a topic.&lt;div&gt;So apparently I jumped on the boat a little late, at Day #4. Hopefully I will keep up because this means I will have to blog daily. DAILY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This topic is actually a good one, I feel. I have so much anger and despise for my sister-in-law.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not only for the pain she brought upon my brother, but to my family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would like to say that I am a forgiving person. I DID forgive my husband a long time ago. Even before we even thought about getting back together. I have forgiven my sister a few times as well. I am sure that I have done things to people that warrants ME being forgiven. (besides my husband, we all know he forgave me). I just don't know if I have it in me to forgive my sister in law.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I actually have likened her to Cancer. She is just a poison that keeps growing and spreading its ugliness around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is a liar, thief, manipulator, traitor, cheat, a fake and a phony. Not only has she lied to my brother &amp;amp; cheated on him, she has lied to me,  my husband, and the worst is my kids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She has fought with every member of my family and tries hard to drive a wedge between my brother and his family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The worst part of all this? She is finally out of out lives, and my brother is talking about getting back together with her! So not only is love blind, it's stupid as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is the forgiveness that I am supposed to be working on, and I will. (no promises)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1938634847008865804?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1938634847008865804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1938634847008865804&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1938634847008865804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1938634847008865804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-4-something-i-have-to-forgive.html' title='Day #4 Something I have to Forgive Someone else for.'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4301241352980472701</id><published>2010-09-28T09:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T09:44:48.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Appreciation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;There has been a tragedy that has affected my life. Not in my immediate family, but close enough. I have a friend Kim, that I don't know too well, but well enough. We run in the same circles, our kids have had play dates and have been in the same class in school. She is a very nice person, helps everyone, is in the PTA, and has a very nice family. She has the kind of family, that if I left Nick over there for a  play date, I know he is safe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Less than a yr ago she lost her sister to cancer at 31yr old. She had a 1yr old baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;On Saturday, they found her fiance dead . Of what? Not sure. He had pneumonia, but that probably wouldn't have done it. So who knows. Now Kim has a the baby for the moment. Hopefully forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;All of this has made me so sad. Especially since I have really got to know Kim over the summer. She is such a nice person, and helps others. A bunch of us are planning a dinner week for her. My night is Friday. Worse day of the week, cuz all the good stuff is taken. I don't want to repeat a meal, so that is a challenge I have to think about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I appreciate my family so much more, when I hear things like this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I appreciate my husband, being the best father he can be. When I work at night, he takes the reins and holds on tight!! He does a great job, and it's exhausting. I know. I love him so much for that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I Love and appreciate my son so much. He is only 7 but he tries to be the man of the house. (Or at least the dad). He is always trying to tell Sara what to do and to follow the rules. She hates it, but it is who he is. He is a rule follower and does not like when people break them. (Unless its him of course). He comes out with so much information that he loves to share. It usually has nothing to do with anything, except what is going on in his life at the moment. WII or a computer game, or a book he is reading. But he loves sharing it. He loves to show his love for everything. Whether it is his parents, with hugs and snuggles, or his games he's playing. He goes at it full force. I love him, and appreciate him so much for that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My daughter...oh my daughter. Filled with so much life and spirit and love. I would never want to break her spirit. She is so passionate and dramatic about everything in her life. Whether it is good or bad, the hands are going, the eyes are sparkling, the voice is raising...She is a firecracker that goes off at anytime. I love her so much and her spark. There are times I wish she would just settle down and be a little more like her brother. I know if she did I would miss her spunk and It would make me sad. I appreciate all that she tries to do. Whether it is helping me sweep the floor, make choc chip pancakes, fix the shoe rack or clean her room. She does it to get the gratification of us telling her "good job mama" and her smile takes up her whole face. I couldn't live life without her. She shines.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Lastly, i appreciate my very handsome, smart, sweet, kind hearted husband. All he does for me and our family is amazing. He wants to make us happy and tries his hardest to do so. It works, we are a very happy family, mostly due to him. (I take a little credit). I appreciate all he does for us, whether its clean the pool, take us to dinner, or apple picking, or take his kids to buy a toy. He does it for us. I love and appreciate him so much , and at times it doesn't show, but its always there. I love you hubby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4301241352980472701?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4301241352980472701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4301241352980472701&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4301241352980472701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4301241352980472701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/09/appreciation.html' title='Appreciation'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1897046715648512728</id><published>2010-09-11T09:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T09:23:14.224-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>The First day of School</title><content type='html'>SO the night before school started Sara was up 3 times in the night. " She heard something".I think it was the excitement she heard in her head. The first day of school was exciting for all of us. My stomach was in knots for her. They were dressed early and ready to go. Grandpa came over to wish them luck, which was exciting to them.&lt;div&gt;We walked to the school and Nick was happy to take Sara to class. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So they went inside and I watched them walk down the hallway holding hands, as the big brother walked the little sister to class. It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When school was over her teacher said that she cried during a fire drill, but she was great the whole day. I can't ask for much more than that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did miss them a lot, but enjoyed the quiet as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and I only cried a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;little&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; bit...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TIuNSyO5e7I/AAAAAAAAAec/AYHzM635-18/s1600/first+day+school+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TIuNSyO5e7I/AAAAAAAAAec/AYHzM635-18/s200/first+day+school+002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515657522506726322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TIuNTQkRdjI/AAAAAAAAAek/DKYmfHTOMvQ/s200/first+day+school+004.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 170px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515657530649441842" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TIuNSWfrISI/AAAAAAAAAeU/UQWbQPIUoSY/s1600/first+day+school+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TIuNSWfrISI/AAAAAAAAAeU/UQWbQPIUoSY/s200/first+day+school+003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515657515060896034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1897046715648512728?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1897046715648512728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1897046715648512728&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1897046715648512728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1897046715648512728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/09/first-day-of-school.html' title='The First day of School'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TIuNSyO5e7I/AAAAAAAAAec/AYHzM635-18/s72-c/first+day+school+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6289847323299716444</id><published>2010-09-06T19:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T20:25:09.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Loving..had me a blasttt</title><content type='html'>Labor Day brings so many emotions for me.&lt;div&gt;The end of summer is sad for me. Normally I wouldn't think twice about it, but THIS one is different.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Baby Girl goes to Kindergarten&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. We have a gorgeous back yard and pool that I really don't want to leave at the moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I always worked my days off around when I will head outside to relax and read on my new patio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. There are some things I wish I got to do this summer. A few beaches I didn't hit, kinda wish we did more as a family, outside the backyard. Maybe take a trip. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I will not miss the crazy, that involved getting our backyard the way we want it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. I loved having friends and family over to enjoy our pool and backyard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I will miss outside play dates. I think they will be few and far between come winter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I love about the summer ending is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Kids in school so I have some quiet time. I haven't been without them for 7 yrs so It will be wierd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Crisp fall weather&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. The windows open with the nice breeze coming in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Apple and pumpkin picking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5 Baking more. (yes honey I promise)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Beautiful trees..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. All new Fall line up on TV..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. Stew and using the crock pot to make it..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our summer seemed to go so fast, but it was such a fun time...I will miss it..till next year&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank You honey, for making it such a great summer. I love you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6289847323299716444?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6289847323299716444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6289847323299716444&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6289847323299716444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6289847323299716444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/09/summer-lovinghad-me-blasttt.html' title='Summer Loving..had me a blasttt'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-364970817894881818</id><published>2010-08-29T16:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T16:20:21.485-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tick...Tock...Tick</title><content type='html'>I'm, happy, sad, scared, excited, jumping for joy, crying in my cheerios....laughing, and crying at the same time. &lt;div&gt;The school clothes and cool shoes are bought..The paper work is complete, the school supplies labeled and put in their designated back pack. The rules are set about homework and where the backpacks go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We looked at the school menu and decided what lunch they will eat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH MY GOD, MY BABY GIRL IS GOING TO KINDERGARTEN!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*sob*.....*sniffle***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-364970817894881818?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/364970817894881818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=364970817894881818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/364970817894881818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/364970817894881818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/08/ticktocktick.html' title='Tick...Tock...Tick'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4903334556630373226</id><published>2010-08-25T10:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T10:40:03.149-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bellport Recital..with a Firepit thrown in</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/THU31WDB0aI/AAAAAAAAAeE/1syNDGqBWvA/s1600/bellport+recital+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/THU31WDB0aI/AAAAAAAAAeE/1syNDGqBWvA/s200/bellport+recital+013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509371108748546466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;New fire pit that the hubby "built"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/THU30l6N8GI/AAAAAAAAAd8/R_QdPjqPX0c/s1600/bellport+recital+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/THU30l6N8GI/AAAAAAAAAd8/R_QdPjqPX0c/s200/bellport+recital+010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509371095826690146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/THU30dIg9AI/AAAAAAAAAd0/aw9p2R_Ry6Y/s1600/bellport+recital+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/THU30dIg9AI/AAAAAAAAAd0/aw9p2R_Ry6Y/s200/bellport+recital+009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509371093470737410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4903334556630373226?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4903334556630373226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4903334556630373226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4903334556630373226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4903334556630373226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/08/bellport-recitalwith-firepit-thrown-in.html' title='Bellport Recital..with a Firepit thrown in'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/THU31WDB0aI/AAAAAAAAAeE/1syNDGqBWvA/s72-c/bellport+recital+013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8097098216170843166</id><published>2010-08-10T19:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T19:53:37.232-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sprinkler Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TGHzvBbhGEI/AAAAAAAAAds/UUI-BSUE6rI/s1600/Sprinkler+park+8+2010+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TGHzvBbhGEI/AAAAAAAAAds/UUI-BSUE6rI/s200/Sprinkler+park+8+2010+016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503948208786708546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So we went to a Sprinkler Park with my friend Jess and her kids &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The kids had a great time and were amazing. They played nice, listened wonderfully, and was just great kids. I was wondering where MINE were...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TGHzsi15SCI/AAAAAAAAAdc/DaRFeZ1XJ_c/s1600/Sprinkler+park+8+2010+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TGHzsi15SCI/AAAAAAAAAdc/DaRFeZ1XJ_c/s200/Sprinkler+park+8+2010+007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503948166216108066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TGHzrpNTZBI/AAAAAAAAAdU/FdSnjaSWar0/s1600/Sprinkler+park+8+2010+012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TGHzrpNTZBI/AAAAAAAAAdU/FdSnjaSWar0/s200/Sprinkler+park+8+2010+012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503948150745031698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8097098216170843166?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8097098216170843166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8097098216170843166&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8097098216170843166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8097098216170843166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/08/sprinkler-park.html' title='Sprinkler Park'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TGHzvBbhGEI/AAAAAAAAAds/UUI-BSUE6rI/s72-c/Sprinkler+park+8+2010+016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1669737675550623859</id><published>2010-08-09T19:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T20:16:19.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>VACATION...VACATION YEA!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; So my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;vaca&lt;/span&gt; technically started on the weekend. I haven't had one since&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;last summer and boy I needed one. This one is very different, because we have a pool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;and a backyard paradise (right B?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;This weekend I gave Nick a BOY play date with his friend Evan. He was so happy he went &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;around yelling "Guy time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wahoo&lt;/span&gt;". Not that he doesn't love his friend Ava, but after a summer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;of girl play dates. he was ready for some "guy time"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Evan came over around 12 and I took Sara out to see my sis to get her out of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;the house so she won't make them nuts! He got picked up around 2:45 and then it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;was pool time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;My brother was having a party with some guys from work. No girls allowed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I didn't care, as long as he fed me.  I spent the rest of the night reading James &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Paterson's book "Private". It was so good I finished it one evening. By 11:45pm I was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;exhausted, but happy I finished it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sooo&lt;/span&gt; good!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Sunday, I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Summerfest&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Sayville&lt;/span&gt; with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;BFF&lt;/span&gt; Kathy. They had &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;crafts and a carnival. Nicky loved the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ferris&lt;/span&gt; wheel. It wasn't an actual &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ferris&lt;/span&gt; wheel, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;but it was close enough. Sara went on the "Miracle round" (Merry Go Round)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;her favorite..My G-friend Stacey &amp;amp; her new B-friend Dave came over as well as my sis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;I had fun with my girls (Dave blended in). Swimming ,snacking, laughing, and just&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;having fun..Love it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Today, I had to go to the podiatrist for a bunion on my right foot that I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;have had forever and is really starting to bother me more and more. He did&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;an ultrasound, then an injection of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Novocaine&lt;/span&gt;, anti inflammatory, and B12. It &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;hurts a lot now, like a bad bruise. But in a day or so, it should feel better on a daily &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;basis. But that meant that I got to hang out at the pool and not feel guilty, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; I was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;supposed to stay off it for a day....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Tomorrow Nick starts golf lessons for 3 weeks, twice a week. Then we are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;heading to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Lindenhurst&lt;/span&gt; to a sprinkler park...Sara got spanked right before she went&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;upstairs, so we shall see how she acts tomorrow..fingers crossed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#FFCC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;We shall see how the rest of my week goes..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1669737675550623859?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1669737675550623859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1669737675550623859&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1669737675550623859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1669737675550623859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/08/vacationvacation-yea.html' title='VACATION...VACATION YEA!!'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-3608138803552353442</id><published>2010-08-05T16:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T16:44:50.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This Girl Of Mine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; I love her with all my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Her screams go right through me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;She brings tears to my heart and my eyes, when she screams "I hate this"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I hate the word HATE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;Sometimes, I wish she was a boy....a nice. quiet. boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;The Drama, and screams, oh, the blood curdling screams, and yells, and banging, and insults and headaches are killing me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;I wish I didn't feel like it was my fault all the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;I wish I knew how to discipline  better. I punish, I remove things, I spank, I yell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;Nothing, nothing works.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;I'm at the end of my rope sometimes..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; font-size: medium;"&gt;S.O.S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-3608138803552353442?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/3608138803552353442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=3608138803552353442&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3608138803552353442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3608138803552353442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/08/this-girl-of-mine.html' title='This Girl Of Mine'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-7147979552912598635</id><published>2010-08-04T08:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T08:20:17.997-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Between Friends"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#3366FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;     My new favorite author is Debbie Macomber. I found a book of hers called "Between Friends". It is a fantastic book. She wrote it in a sequence of letters and journal posts. It is a very easy and fast read. I couldn't put it down. I read it in 2 days, and I had to work too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#3366FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It is about 2 friends, that met in elementary school, and continued  to be friends into their 50's. They went through many ups and downs and remained friends. It is such a heart warming story, that had potential to turn sad, but this author kept it as a happy read. I really was turned onto her because of that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#3366FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I looked up her books on Barnes and Nobel and they all have 4-5 star ratings. I give this one 5***** &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-7147979552912598635?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/7147979552912598635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=7147979552912598635&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7147979552912598635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7147979552912598635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/08/between-friends.html' title='&quot;Between Friends&quot;'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-744930209199914195</id><published>2010-07-26T23:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T23:19:31.215-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TE5eJoRi5mI/AAAAAAAAAdM/2DY2GtJNWCE/s1600/fun+at+the+pool+2010+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TE5eJoRi5mI/AAAAAAAAAdM/2DY2GtJNWCE/s200/fun+at+the+pool+2010+013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498435714588796514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I just LOVE this picture...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-744930209199914195?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/744930209199914195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=744930209199914195&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/744930209199914195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/744930209199914195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/07/summer-fun.html' title='Summer fun'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TE5eJoRi5mI/AAAAAAAAAdM/2DY2GtJNWCE/s72-c/fun+at+the+pool+2010+013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8968174732436403823</id><published>2010-07-26T23:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T23:17:21.889-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Reliable Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So, one of the good things I love about my Nook is that they have "Lend Me" books. Those are books you buy and then you can lend them to a friend that also has a Nook. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My friend Jess, that quickly became obsessed with MY Nook, that she got one of her own, Lent me a book. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Its called "A Reliable Wife", by Robert Goolrick. Its a period book, which means, in this instance,  it takes place in a time with horse and carriages. A time that seems like an easier life. The main character is Ralph Truitt, a rich, and not well liked person. He is the wealthiest man in town but has few friends. He puts an ad in a newspaper for a wife, and a woman responds to the ad. But is she who she seems?? It is a very good book, that has a twist midway. I would recommend it to a friend. I give it 4****&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8968174732436403823?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8968174732436403823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8968174732436403823&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8968174732436403823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8968174732436403823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/07/reliable-wife.html' title='A Reliable Wife'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4292165440112420770</id><published>2010-07-23T19:54:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T20:15:55.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Nooky</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; So as everyone knows, i received a Nook for Mothers day. At this time, I have read 7 1/2 books since May.  Some good, some..not so much..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Well, I decided to review some of them here, in case you are looking for a good one, or not so good one to read.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;The first one I downloaded to the Nooky, I was very excited about because, well, its my first one! I have this thing where I see books reviewed in magazines and I tear out the pages to see if I can get them on the Nook. It also &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;got good reviews in the mags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; I also found a website thanks to my friend Jess, that is linked to the public library and you can borrow from them. Buy alot of the newer ones arent there yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;So the name of the book is " Orange is the new Black" from Piper Kerman . It is  a memoir from this author that spent some time in jail for a drug trafficking charge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I was excited to read this book because my EX sister in law spent some time in jail and I thought it would be an interesting story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I was interested in the beginning of the book when it went into her younger life and how she got herself into the position she did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;When it got to the part of the book where she was in jail, was boring and a let down. I kept telling my friend Jess that I was waiting for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;SOMETHING, anything to happen to her, that would give her a reason to write a book about it. Millions of people go in and out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;of jail and have some interesting, if not awful things happen to them. No book there. It is a fast read, and almost a feel good story. I give it 2**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;                                                                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4292165440112420770?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4292165440112420770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4292165440112420770&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4292165440112420770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4292165440112420770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-nooky.html' title='My Nooky'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-7824647509404037109</id><published>2010-07-11T09:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-11T09:09:23.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pool pix update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TDnQIAu04uI/AAAAAAAAAdE/6m76IV4_Xzs/s1600/grad,+anniversary,+pool+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TDnQIAu04uI/AAAAAAAAAdE/6m76IV4_Xzs/s200/grad,+anniversary,+pool+010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492650056608965346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is work being done around the pool, as I'm posting this The dirt was delivered and spread out yesterday. It looks great, and very different. Hopefully the fence will be in this coming week... Love it!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-7824647509404037109?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/7824647509404037109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=7824647509404037109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7824647509404037109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7824647509404037109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/07/pool-pix-update.html' title='Pool pix update'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TDnQIAu04uI/AAAAAAAAAdE/6m76IV4_Xzs/s72-c/grad,+anniversary,+pool+010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8853325597249092616</id><published>2010-07-06T09:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T09:33:52.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To YOU, on our anniversary***</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;   Its a little late...but here it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;To My Wonderful Husband,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I want to start by thanking you. Thanking you for not only what you do for me daily, but for what you do for this family. I thank you for leaving 4 years ago, because it was only then,I realized how much I lost, and what our marriage meant to me, and what a real marriage is supposed to be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I thank you for telling me those wonderful words the awful day my mom was buried. "me and her broke up"...It made my mind reel and my heart beat, and my emotions flow. At that time, I had no idea that THIS is where that statement would lead us. I am so grateful that it has.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I love you more now, than I ever could have back then, and for that I thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;You show me daily, how much you love me and this family, by all the things you say and do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Finally, thank you for loving me unconditionally, understanding me (mostly) and for just being YOU..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;You are the love of my life, the man of my dreams, my rock, my heart and my soul. I love you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8853325597249092616?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8853325597249092616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8853325597249092616&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8853325597249092616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8853325597249092616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/07/to-you-on-our-anniversary.html' title='To YOU, on our anniversary***'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1310477195027453870</id><published>2010-07-02T21:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T21:35:15.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Patios IN!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TC6hicABKZI/AAAAAAAAAc8/fUNc8oRm7kg/s1600/patio+done+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TC6hicABKZI/AAAAAAAAAc8/fUNc8oRm7kg/s200/patio+done+003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489502608815106450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It is very big. I thought too big, but after we put 2 tables and chaise lounges on it, it will be fabulous!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1310477195027453870?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1310477195027453870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1310477195027453870&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1310477195027453870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1310477195027453870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/07/patios-in.html' title='Patios IN!!'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TC6hicABKZI/AAAAAAAAAc8/fUNc8oRm7kg/s72-c/patio+done+003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5434077505048365611</id><published>2010-06-17T15:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T15:51:05.047-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dress Rehersal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIgLWMNeI/AAAAAAAAAc0/BvWBZQeR2RU/s1600/saras+dress+rehersal+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIgLWMNeI/AAAAAAAAAc0/BvWBZQeR2RU/s200/saras+dress+rehersal+010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483845582660056546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIf1iRO9I/AAAAAAAAAcs/6VgKYofXcuY/s1600/saras+dress+rehersal+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIf1iRO9I/AAAAAAAAAcs/6VgKYofXcuY/s200/saras+dress+rehersal+006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483845576805137362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIfXwQ_pI/AAAAAAAAAck/0d9uwpKAd4k/s1600/saras+dress+rehersal+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIfXwQ_pI/AAAAAAAAAck/0d9uwpKAd4k/s200/saras+dress+rehersal+007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483845568810778258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIfJq2vVI/AAAAAAAAAcc/GpnL8gXENDY/s1600/saras+dress+rehersal+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIfJq2vVI/AAAAAAAAAcc/GpnL8gXENDY/s200/saras+dress+rehersal+005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483845565029989714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIeqBMe0I/AAAAAAAAAcU/90VJ_TtrK1w/s1600/saras+dress+rehersal+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIeqBMe0I/AAAAAAAAAcU/90VJ_TtrK1w/s200/saras+dress+rehersal+004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483845556533754690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sara had her dress rehearsal for her Recital. She was so awesome! She absolutely loved being all dressed up, and having. makeup on.. I couldn't believe how well she focused and didn't have to look at the teacher to do her dance. I have never been so proud of her! I cant wait for the actually recital...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5434077505048365611?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5434077505048365611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5434077505048365611&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5434077505048365611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5434077505048365611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/06/dress-rehersal.html' title='Dress Rehersal'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/TBqIgLWMNeI/AAAAAAAAAc0/BvWBZQeR2RU/s72-c/saras+dress+rehersal+010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-679382911020272691</id><published>2010-06-02T08:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T09:03:22.106-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Times are changing...yet again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Well, I truly enjoy my job. My new job at Brookhaven Hospital. The job that I changed my entire life for. Uprooted my daughter, changed my shift, and had to rearrange my entire family life for.&lt;div&gt;Then they closed 2 units, and had to put the "displaced" employees somewhere. That somewhere, was MY position. MY full time, day position!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last week I got a phone call, from the HR dept, to tell me that MY full time position has been taken by someone with more seniority. So I get to pick a new position. Hmph..what if I didn't want to..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I had to, my position was no longer, MY position. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I dragged my annoyed, disgruntled, pissed off butt to the job, to pick a new position.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My options were limited, per diem LPN position, which means NO work. Then there was a full time position, in Hemo dialysis...OK full time is good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Problem is that it is a TECH position, a &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;FULLTIME  tech position. *sigh* so I took it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now I was stripped of my position, AND my title...I feel so violated... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-679382911020272691?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/679382911020272691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=679382911020272691&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/679382911020272691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/679382911020272691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/06/times-are-changingyet-again.html' title='Times are changing...yet again'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-2163993175659346116</id><published>2010-05-18T17:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T17:32:59.079-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There you go Aunt Ris</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_MVG4GXzJI/AAAAAAAAAcM/q3uzfTkzCKs/s1600/fill+er+up+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_MVG4GXzJI/AAAAAAAAAcM/q3uzfTkzCKs/s320/fill+er+up+001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472741180067794066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There you go Aunt Ris...Its filled now and a few guys have come to give us estimates about the patio that will surround it, so right now, this is what I see.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although the sides are filled with dirt but i haven't taken a pix of that yet. Raining....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-2163993175659346116?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/2163993175659346116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=2163993175659346116&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2163993175659346116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2163993175659346116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/05/there-you-go-aunt-ris.html' title='There you go Aunt Ris'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_MVG4GXzJI/AAAAAAAAAcM/q3uzfTkzCKs/s72-c/fill+er+up+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6929949746538394031</id><published>2010-05-18T06:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T07:26:42.538-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mothers day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_KBcBGwjtI/AAAAAAAAAcE/pOBENyEgwKw/s1600/N.+award+and+moms+day+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_KBcBGwjtI/AAAAAAAAAcE/pOBENyEgwKw/s320/N.+award+and+moms+day+014.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472578815541677778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_KBbwV156I/AAAAAAAAAb8/JRJ2IhSHGdo/s1600/N.+award+and+moms+day+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_KBbwV156I/AAAAAAAAAb8/JRJ2IhSHGdo/s320/N.+award+and+moms+day+013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472578811041540002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_KBa2u-EnI/AAAAAAAAAb0/FHX6ATkTXF8/s1600/N.+award+and+moms+day+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_KBa2u-EnI/AAAAAAAAAb0/FHX6ATkTXF8/s320/N.+award+and+moms+day+011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472578795577676402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_KBaiBdWDI/AAAAAAAAAbs/ta0gLJ2nWfg/s1600/N.+award+and+moms+day+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 247px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_KBaiBdWDI/AAAAAAAAAbs/ta0gLJ2nWfg/s320/N.+award+and+moms+day+010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472578790018078770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At Nicky's school they do a Mothers Day Tea. All the kids sang songs and made stuff for the Moms. It was so special. I teared up, because I don't remember doing this for my mom. I know we always did mothers day, but not at school. Not that my mom could have taken off to come to the school anyway. She had 4 kids and a full time job, math don't add up ya know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so blessed that I have that option, that I can possibly arrange it to be at all my kids stuff. (although there are some that i would like to miss).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For actual Mothers Day, I was off, and the hubby went to get us egg sandwiches. Yummm I haven't had that in ages. After breakfast, I went to the cemetery to see mom and I decided to go alone this year. I went earlier than everyone else to get it over with. I hate making it a big production. Apparently I am not one of those people that can go to a cemetery once a week or so and stand there and talk and cry etc...guess thats not me. I think about mom everyday. She is in my dreams all the time, and in my mind. I do things and say things that I have to stop and think, "hmmm that just reminded me of mom". or "wow i just sounded just like her" I miss her so much sometimes it hurts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the cemetery  we hung out around the house, then we went to J&amp;amp;Rs steakhouse, where we went last year. It was good.not great. but Sara didn't act a fool like last year, so i'll take it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For Mothers day I got a Nook. Its an e-reader and very cool. You can download books, and add your pictures and music as well. I love it because I take a book everywhere! I like the ease of just throwing in my bag or in my locker at work. One of my good friends Jess just got one, and we can share e-books. yea! love it. Thanks B.  cant wait to sit at the pool with my Nooky..love ya&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6929949746538394031?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6929949746538394031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6929949746538394031&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6929949746538394031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6929949746538394031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mothers day'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S_KBcBGwjtI/AAAAAAAAAcE/pOBENyEgwKw/s72-c/N.+award+and+moms+day+014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5156784556881965926</id><published>2010-05-03T07:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T08:16:07.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Gynormous Empty hole....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S97H2W3WhJI/AAAAAAAAAbc/K0TIk3GNmho/s1600/starting+the+pool+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S97H2W3WhJI/AAAAAAAAAbc/K0TIk3GNmho/s320/starting+the+pool+002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467026734338966674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So I feel like my life is complete, although there is a gynormous hole in my backyard. Eventually that hole will be filled with steel and cement and water and what hopefully will be an ass kicking pool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; And soon enough it will also be filled with fun and laughter with my kids having the time of their lives. Hopefully they won't realize that dunking their sibling and pretending to drown them is ALOT of fun. Way more fun then fake kicking them on the trampoline.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I am afraid of the deep end. Really really afraid. Not for me, I can swim (duh) but for my fearless 5 yr old that taught herself how to swim last year in a 6x6 blow up pool. Which turned out pretty good for her cuz she REALLY can swim. My nervousness comes from the fact that she thinks she can swim WAY better than she can. I am going to have to be on my "A" game all summer cuz like I said the girl is FEARLESS, and if big brother can jump off the diving board, well so can she!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;In her warped 5 yr old world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;This really should be the best summer ever, the start to many more. Me and the Hubby had a nice talk the other night (granted we were both a little tipsy which makes for the BEST conversations,)and we are very happy with the way our family is shaping up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;We have never been more in love, which solidifies the fact that we made an AWESOME decision getting back together. (thanks B for bringing that up a year and 3months ago).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Life is Good! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5156784556881965926?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5156784556881965926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5156784556881965926&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5156784556881965926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5156784556881965926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-gynormous-empty-hole.html' title='My Gynormous Empty hole....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S97H2W3WhJI/AAAAAAAAAbc/K0TIk3GNmho/s72-c/starting+the+pool+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8014538998889689523</id><published>2010-04-20T13:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T13:41:16.569-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Family...huh??</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;FAMILY.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;   W&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;hat a funny word. It can bring you up and throw you down at a whim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;F &lt;/b&gt;is for the fakeness that is shown to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A&lt;/b&gt; is for the aggravation that it brings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;M&lt;/b&gt; is for the multiple arguments&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt;  is for the ignorance of it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;L &lt;/b&gt;is for the constant lies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Y&lt;/b&gt; is for the.....Y??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8014538998889689523?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8014538998889689523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8014538998889689523&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8014538998889689523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8014538998889689523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/04/familyhuh.html' title='Family...huh??'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-99713321226471253</id><published>2010-04-15T13:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T14:07:44.391-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Princess</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S8djg0uz5QI/AAAAAAAAAbU/nA9ncyWUiac/s1600/sara+b-day+2010+and+spa+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S8djg0uz5QI/AAAAAAAAAbU/nA9ncyWUiac/s320/sara+b-day+2010+and+spa+020.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460442488771962114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a beautiful April day, and my parents were over visiting. You were already a week late, so who knew when you were showing up.&lt;div&gt;I was watching Regis and Kelly (definately Kelly) and i felt a "pop". Hmmm I though, yet again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to the bathroom and sure enough my water broke. I put a pad on and went on with my day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Through out the day, no contraction, but some weird color discharge, but I though "Meh whatever"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I called the hubby and told him that my water broke but no contraction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dont head home yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He came home normal time and i decided i needed to go to CVS. The hubby argued and I won and me and mom went to CVS in labor. I did get some contractions there, but no biggie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I finally called the OB at 3 and she told me to get here "immediately". She thinks the baby swallowed Meconium. (baby poop)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We frantically got our stuff together, while I panicked being in rush hour traffic on Nichols Road.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our 2 yr old came inside crying because he got hit in the lip and was bleeding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HALT! ok, get a cold wash cloth and deal with that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The phone rings, its the OB. Where are you!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gosh,  on my way..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We get there in 20 min or so, and the contractions were stronger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get out of the car and immediately decided on a wheel chair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told the hubby that I felt like I needed to push in the elevator &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We get up into the triage room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hear my OBs voice and I yell out &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Corinne i need to push!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She yells back Dont PUSH!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She comes in to see me and said "OK she IS ready! lets go"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See told ya so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There were people everywhere, she thought the baby was going to be born in distress, and i panicked at the thought that she was going to have to go to PICU or worse...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pushed for 8 whole minutes....then they grabbed her and had to suction her mouth..but she was FINE, beautiful and all mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Born with gorgeous strawberry blonde hair, that even now people comment on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I loved her from the second I saw her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is my princess and she is 5!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-99713321226471253?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/99713321226471253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=99713321226471253&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/99713321226471253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/99713321226471253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/04/happy-birthday-princess.html' title='Happy Birthday Princess'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S8djg0uz5QI/AAAAAAAAAbU/nA9ncyWUiac/s72-c/sara+b-day+2010+and+spa+020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8808490445703695702</id><published>2010-04-05T09:21:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T09:33:53.082-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Party Time..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S7n0HFi3oWI/AAAAAAAAAbM/VVDsTooY22c/s1600/Kids+b-day+party+2010+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S7nzASqSvMI/AAAAAAAAAa8/J-F9RG9_11g/s1600/Kids+b-day+party+2010+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S7nzASqSvMI/AAAAAAAAAa8/J-F9RG9_11g/s320/Kids+b-day+party+2010+008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456659609870843074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S7ny_1l-lyI/AAAAAAAAAa0/tLZC1NQ-fXk/s1600/Kids+b-day+party+2010+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S7ny_1l-lyI/AAAAAAAAAa0/tLZC1NQ-fXk/s320/Kids+b-day+party+2010+005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456659602068117282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S7ny_mJ9PnI/AAAAAAAAAas/G3c3Fy52vl8/s1600/Kids+b-day+party+2010+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S7ny_mJ9PnI/AAAAAAAAAas/G3c3Fy52vl8/s320/Kids+b-day+party+2010+001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456659597924056690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to have the kids birthday party at  the bowling alley. Good move i tell ya.&lt;div&gt;We had 16 kids there, and parents, and grandparents, aunts, uncles....you get the picture..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and speaking of pictures...here's some.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other girl is Nicky's "g-friend" Ava&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8808490445703695702?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8808490445703695702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8808490445703695702&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8808490445703695702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8808490445703695702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/04/birthday-party-time.html' title='Birthday Party Time..'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/S7nzASqSvMI/AAAAAAAAAa8/J-F9RG9_11g/s72-c/Kids+b-day+party+2010+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6268182532428974079</id><published>2010-03-28T08:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T09:04:11.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to My Boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;It was a regular day at the apartment. My Fiance was getting ready to go to work and kissed me goodbye. I was able to sleep in because I finished work for the next 6 months, because I was going to have a baby!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I was nervous and excited at the same time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I went to the bathroom while he was still home and I yelled out to him, "babe I think my water broke". He said " you want me to stay home??" No , go in to work I'll be fine, I'll call you" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I was settling down with a bowl of cereal, which was my craving at the time, and was watching LIVE! with Regis and Kelly..(or could have still  been Kathy Lee, not sure).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Thats when I felt it, it started as a cramp,  Hmmm I thought, what was that?? Contactions??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I went to the bathroom and put on a pad, but there was no water...Odd I thought. (I found out later that after my initial "water breakage" Nickys big Charlie Brown head blocked the flow of the water)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I called the Fiance and said "I think I'm having contractions but i'm not sure" He says "Ok you want me to come home?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"No honey, i'm ok, but if you want to  you can"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Then I called the Gyno, and she said to hang out a while. OK.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So I was waiting for the man to come home, which took FOREVER... (I found out later that he stopped for an egg sammy).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He finally got home and I called the gyno again, because the pain was getting worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;She told me to come in. We drove. fast. to Stonybrook hospital, where I thought I could walk to the door. I got out of the car and WHAM!! Not happening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I sat in a wheelchair and continued to breath. hard. A very nice woman walked with us into the hospital, she must have seen B's face and heard me hyperventilating because she walked with us to the elevator. She had very nice shoes and a lab coat, because that is all I was able to see. I could not physically lift me head I was in so much pain. I swore Nick was trying to kill me before he was even born..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I went up to the L&amp;amp;D suite and met my Mid wife there. She asked me if I wanted an epidural..UHHH Yeah I do!! Ahhh sweet relief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The next few hours went by rather quickly, we played cards, my BFF and labor coach Kathy got there and we all just hung out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When the epidural started running out, I was ready to give birth...Unfortunately she wouldn't give me another one.. (don't think i didn't ask, a few times)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So I pushed, and changed positions and pushed and changed positions again. He was a stubborn little thing. (still is).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He finally made it into this world at 6:12pm...screaming and beautiful. I couldn't see him because I pushed so hard I broke the blood vessels in my eyes . I had to hold cold compresses to my eyes for a while. (told you he was trying to kill me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;But when I did see him, he was the most beautiful, boy I have ever seen. Perfect head, perfect face, perfect fingers and toes..I couldn't stop staring at him and holding him..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He had my heart from that moment on, and continues to do so on a daily basis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He is 7 yrs old today, and continues to make me laugh and cry. He amazes me and aggravates me, He makes me so proud to be his mommy and I my heart swells with love for this boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I love you Nicky, Happy Birthday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6268182532428974079?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6268182532428974079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6268182532428974079&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6268182532428974079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6268182532428974079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/03/happy-birthday-to-my-boy.html' title='Happy Birthday to My Boy'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6944023358682839765</id><published>2010-03-13T09:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T10:00:16.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Girls...Little Girls...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I know the saying "little girls are sugar and spice and everything nice". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Well, I would like to meet that girl if you don't mind.  Maybe she can come over and hang with MY girl, and teach her the ropes, like.....listening. That would be a good start. Maybe she could also teach her how it is not nice to pick on her OLDER brother until HE screeches like a girl. Calling her name over and over SAAAARRRRAAAAA STTTOOOPPPP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Maybe a quick lesson on NOT talking over and back to her parents, at every conversation, and understand what she is being told, so she doesn't continue to do it over and over and over again, until her mother is in tears with a glass of wine in one hand and a xanax in another...*ahem*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Also, if its not too much trouble, maybe she could give her a quick rundown on clothing. As in, what not to wear and when (she kinda gets that from me though)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Like.....no flipflops in the dead of winter..etc..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Soooo, if you happen to run into that sugar and spice girl, please send her this way. Money is no object, i will pay her well. Cuz my sanity is PRICELESS..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thanks and God Speed..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6944023358682839765?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6944023358682839765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6944023358682839765&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6944023358682839765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6944023358682839765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/03/little-girlslittle-girls.html' title='Little Girls...Little Girls...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8307430001805489860</id><published>2010-02-27T08:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T09:11:01.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Wow, its been a while since I posted, I guess its cause I really haven't had much to say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I started training on the floor of my new job the 3rd week in Feb.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The woman I started training with is named Diane. She is an older woman who was surprised that she was training me. I was surprised as well, when I saw her, She looks So much like my mom that it bought tears to my eyes. She has the same soft brown eyes behind metal framed glasses, she has the same chin and the same shaped mouth with dentures. Her hands were the most shocking. My mom always had a lot of veins on top of her hand and she started get brown spots as well. When I saw Diane at the computer, she had her hand on the mouse and i actually had to blink. Same hands, same shaped nails. I took a picture of her hand with my cell and texted it to my sister, because that is how freaked out I was. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;She had some, but not a lot of my moms mannerisms, thank God. If she acted like her too, I don't know if I could have handled it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I texted the hubby and he wrote back that mom must be watching over me on my first day of a new job. I felt a little better after that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I miss her so much, even after a year, I feel like it was yesterday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So besides that, I really like my new job. I definately like saying 'goodbye' to my patients while they go home and not "goodbye" to go HOME, ya know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I am learning a lot from a new girl that is training my named Shiela, She is young like me, and really knows her stuff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I know I don't know nearly as much as I am suppose to know, but I will train until March13, and will learn things as things arise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I have my own routine now, and know how to multi-task and interact with my patients, anything else is learn as you go. All the staff i have worked with have been great, really nice and helpful. It is always good to like who you work with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;As far as home goes, B is doing well, with dealing with the kids for the 12 hrs at a time. Its not so bad when he works and there is school, but I think the weekend will dragggg. He will handle it though, he is more than capable, and it is the best for this family. I finished a 3 day stretch, which was brutal. But now I'm off for 5 days, which MORE than makes up for it :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Everything has pretty much calmed down here. Lou is definately divorcing from the poison that was his wife, and I couldn't be happier. I could go on and on about how she is the worst thing that ever happened to him, Yadda Yadda. But it isn't worth it, being that is finally over. My brother is fine, more than fine actually, and I wish I could say I wish the best for her. But I don't. I couldn't care less what happens to her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Anywho...Dad is doing good, as is Luann. Moms 1 yr anniversary past and we didn't go back to the cemetery , as we recently went for her birthday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The family is slowly moving forward. I am very happy with my life. The job and my family, all come together where I am truly happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;We are all Moving ON....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8307430001805489860?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8307430001805489860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8307430001805489860&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8307430001805489860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8307430001805489860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/02/update.html' title='Update...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1604629929405203560</id><published>2010-02-05T18:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T18:20:32.454-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One week down...grrr</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;So as mostly all know I started a new job. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I started Orientation this week. Well to say that is is way too much information, is an understatement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I remember orientation from other jobs and it was a week. Tops. I know this is a hospital and a WHOLE different way of life, but COME ON.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;We all meet in a classroom , not in the hospital but across the street in a medical building. I guess thats what it is. It has offices and Suites. Its nice, and not a hospital.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;We start off with lecture, and paperwork. ALOT of paper work. I think i now know where all the trees are going across america. To a little town called Patchogue, folks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;We also went into a trailer to work on the computers for a half a day. That was good, cuz it broke up the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Oh, on Monday we had "Hospital Orientation". That was in a trailer, and we met people in the hospital that we will probably never see again. CEO's and Heads of This, and Heads of That. Yadda Yadda. Dont care dude, just sign my check K? Monday dragged on like Chinese water torture....Good thing was, they fed us breakfast and a snack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; K I'll take it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;. SURE i understand your policy's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; OFCOURSE I have 40million dollars you can have to start reconstruction and open another wing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; Just give me a cookie and all is good and no one gets hurt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;So back to the story. I learned about, policy's, on everything from admitting, to chest tubes, wound care to diabetes, to Hospice, to PT and dietary, vents, and a phone to translate for people who cant speak english , and a TV that does sign language. I can save you, if I can find the Crash cart, cuz I know whats in it, and I can put out a fire, with the RACE procedure. Or at the very least be safe from it. I know to call DR Heavy when there is an "incident" that is out of hand, and a CODE 64 for a heart attack, or a "Rapid Response" if its not a heart attack but maybe something else. (Still not too clear on what to call when).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;I could go on, but my brain hurts still.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;Oh, and my new babysitter got sick on Monday and B had to stay home with the girl, and dad stayed a day too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;Worse nightmare for me is babysitter trouble. Never had that problem before. She ok today so alls good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;Next week starts week 2 or orientation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#009900;"&gt;Let the maddness begin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1604629929405203560?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1604629929405203560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1604629929405203560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1604629929405203560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1604629929405203560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/02/one-week-downgrrr.html' title='One week down...grrr'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5618770917914791778</id><published>2010-01-31T09:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T09:35:38.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Dear Mom,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Happy Birthday!!! I can't believe you are 70. I never thought you looked your age, ever. So when you joked about being 39 at every birthday, it wasnt far off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;This year has been the hardest in my life so far. Harder than my first year married, (which everyone says is the hardest), harder than my first year divorced (ditto), even harder than my first year as a mom. Probably because YOU were here to help me through all of that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;There has been alot of turmoil this year. Besides spending all the "firsts" of everything without you, the family felt like it was crumbling at times. Me and Luann wasn't talking for a while, me and dad were fighting. Now that is resolved. Lou and Laura are on a "trial seperation". We joke that when Laura went to jail you flipped in your grave, and now she is pulling the crap she is now, you flipped back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I know that you are watching over all of us at all times. Lou really needs your strength and wisdom now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I am starting a new job tomorrow. Its at Brookhaven hospital, the one hospital I have always said I don't wanna be a part of.. Well, I look at it this way, maybe I can be the one nurse that can make a difference there. Maybe one patient will leave there and say they had a good experience with one nurse. It is a good situation for my family right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I miss you terribly, really terribly. I feel i need to take over where you left off, even though I'm not the oldest. I feel I have to be the strongest one, the one that cant break down and show how much I miss you. Its always been that Lou is the sensitive one, and Lu breaks down constantly, so I have to hold it together. Well just so you know, I'm not that strong. I cry alot. On the way to work mainly because I have 30min to myself in the car , when Sara lets me. That is where I think about you the most, and miss you the most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I love you every day, you are never far from my thoughts. I hope your doing ok up there. I don't want you to worry about us here. We are all Moving On...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5618770917914791778?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5618770917914791778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5618770917914791778&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5618770917914791778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5618770917914791778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/01/dear-mom.html' title='Happy Birthday'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-368467213205766320</id><published>2010-01-28T16:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T16:43:59.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My last day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My last day of work was yesterday. I have been there 6yrs, 3 1/2 months. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have had a baby, got divorced, got re-married, and lost my mom in that short period of time. I have had some very good times, and sometimes not so good. Like tearing my ankle and being out of work for 3months. Not good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I made some very good friends and only very few people I didn't like being around. 3 I can think of. Thats pretty good odds i'd say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So I made a very good friend Ellie that started working there almost 2yrs ago. At first I thought she was a little flaky, but we hit it off after a while. (probably cuz I am a little flaky)  It was her birthday yesterday which made leaving even harder. I will miss her terribly. We will talk daily, but it is certainly not like seeing her regularly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;She cried yesterday when I left. They bought me a "goodbye" cake, while I was down giving my exit interview. ( I was on my best behavior, don't wanna burn any bridges ya know).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have to say it was a little surreal leaving. Almost like I was going on vacation and I'll be back soon enough. I think it will hit me on Monday when I go to Hospital Orientation that I no longer work there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The worst part was watching Sara go into every class and say goodbye to all her friends. I did tear up when she was hugging them. I know, come the summer, they woulda been out of her life anyway, but that is kindergartens fault not mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The director Miss Colleen was amazing with her from day one. She was giving a tour when I got there, which was good because I know she would have cried, that woulda got me crying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am definately looking into the future with excitement , but yesterday was very bitter sweet for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My moms birthday is on Sunday, and my brother and his wife split (for now) so there is a bit of stress going on here, so I think a change is good right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am hoping the best is yet to come, and I am waiting with open arms...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Moving On.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-368467213205766320?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/368467213205766320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=368467213205766320&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/368467213205766320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/368467213205766320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-last-day.html' title='My last day'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-2792693765127073012</id><published>2010-01-25T07:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T08:18:40.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes are coming..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Well Feb.1st will start my new life. I guess you could call it that. My life itself will be the same. I'm not divorcing, leaving my kids, changing my name and going into the witness protection program or anything (yet).THAT would be starting a new life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I am, however, starting a new job. In a hospital. Yikes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So the changes are big.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;1.leaving a job i have been at for 6yrs, and the friends that go with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;2. Leaving a job that my kids went with me everyday, so they were a spit away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;3. Starting a job, that includes 12hr shifts. 3 days a week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;4. Having to worry that the hubby will have them for 12hrs, 3 days a week. Not that he cant handle it, he certainly can. But now there is dance, and karate and a 4yr old involved. Its part of my controlling OCD i think, that i have a little bit of. just a little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;5. Having my daughter at a "babysitters" instead of a "daycare". I am a little leery of that. I KNOW that she is social, and ready for Kindergarten etc.. but its going to be a ridiculous change for her too. So worry there too. (i think i worry too much)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;6. On my days off, the 4 yr old is home with me. *sigh* what can I say about that? We are going to either hate each other or love each other. But either way, anything that i need to get done she has to go with me. I cant make apppt or do things after work anymore. This should be interesting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I do have to say that i am excited to be going into this new phase in life. I just hope they are ready for me..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-2792693765127073012?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/2792693765127073012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=2792693765127073012&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2792693765127073012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2792693765127073012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/01/changes-are-coming.html' title='Changes are coming..'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8776822643758239774</id><published>2010-01-03T09:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T15:50:25.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2009 Recap...</title><content type='html'>2009 has been an awful and a great year all at once.&lt;div&gt;*It started with my mom dying in Feburary.  Then dad had a heart attack in the same month.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* On the day I buried my mom, I found out my ex husband broke up with his g-friend. It was the worst and best day of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MARCH gave way to my sons birthday and we celebrated with a double birthday party, for him and the girl. It was sad to have an occasion without my mom. I cried the night before, but the party was good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;APRIL was the girls birthday month and she turned 4.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MAY was Mothers day and I loved it because it was the first with my family together. We went to the cemetery to see mom and leave flowers for her. I missed her so much that day. Louis's b-day came as well. Again another occasion without mom, but we handled it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The summer came and we decided to get married! That was fun. We did it in the backyard with friends and family. It was the happiest day of my life and also the saddest. Of all the times in my life I wanted my mom, that was it. I desperately wanted her to see me happy and in love again, and my family back together. I missed her so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The end of the summer, my sis-in-Law was sent to jail for 4 months. Long story. It put a huge strain on our family. My father moved in to my brothers house to help him out financially. It was difficult on my brother, and we tried to help him as much as possible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SEPT. came and N started school. 1st grade already!! He is getting so big. I love taking him to school and picking him up. He is learning so much and is just awesome!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OCT. was me and dads b-day. That was, again the best and worst. I missed my mom making the birthday cake for us, and me and dad arguing over which kind we wanted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it was the first with my new intact family. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;NOV.was Lu's B-day. At that time we weren't talking for a while. There was a family argument going on and on that day I decided to meet with her and clear it up. We did ,but it put a strain on our family for a while. Thanksgiving was strained as well. Dad wanted to be on his own for dinner. I was really saddened by that, but I understood. My sister went with him to dinner and came back for dessert. It was HARD to say the least. My family traditions were flowing through my head. It hurt to think about them. Her absence was huge. But my new hubby cooked for all of us. It was very good, and we had our own family tradition. My sis-in-law also came home the day before Thanksgiving. It was a good thing, but they are both still struggling through this whole thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;DEC. i think was the worst so far. The Christmas holiday and traditions was huge in my family. Now I had them. I wasn't sure how to do that. first off, I worked the whole holiday. So the Hubby cooked again. Everyone came over and ate dinner then we all opened presents together. It was very bittersweet. . It was wonderful with my family together and we made it wonderful for the kids too. It was nice to celebrate with a family I so deeply love and as hard as it was, I was still very happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;JAN. is my moms b-day month. That day will be very hard for us. It is a Sunday, and I am off, so I will go to the cemetary to see her. It will be a sad day for me. Its the hubby b-day month too. The big 40. That will be fun, He still doesnt know what he wants to do for his b-day. Probably dinner with friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feb 6th will mark the day of her death. It will end the year of firsts for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I handled them well. It helped that it was also the year of firsts for my new relationship as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2010 will be a great year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I start a new job in Feb, with Brookhaven Hospital. It is so much better for me and my family. I will be home more, with having to work 12hr shifts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is the year my baby goes to kindergarten. She is certainly not a baby anymore, by far. She lets me know that daily. But i know it will be a sad day for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will be looking forward to alot of things this year. I will make it a good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;SOME OF MY HIGHLIGHTS:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Coffee dates&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* The kids jumping up and down at the prospect of their daddy moving back in. Asking "Is it true mommy? Is it true"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Getting engaged in the Jewelery store.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Getting re-married&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* My sons first day of school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Getting my kitchen re-done :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; * Getting my new job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8776822643758239774?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8776822643758239774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8776822643758239774&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8776822643758239774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8776822643758239774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2010/01/2009-recap.html' title='2009 Recap...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-7361336751889478340</id><published>2009-12-28T10:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T10:51:09.855-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Some X-mas Pixs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SzjTyYyfwHI/AAAAAAAAAak/HtzmUh9fi6o/s1600-h/xmas+2009+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SzjTyYyfwHI/AAAAAAAAAak/HtzmUh9fi6o/s320/xmas+2009+005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420315014141558898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SzjTx-wgTBI/AAAAAAAAAac/_FOdoAZYkN0/s1600-h/xmas+2009+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SzjTx-wgTBI/AAAAAAAAAac/_FOdoAZYkN0/s320/xmas+2009+001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420315007153884178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SzjTxhzuk7I/AAAAAAAAAaU/xMY69yPHwuk/s1600-h/xmas+2009+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SzjTxhzuk7I/AAAAAAAAAaU/xMY69yPHwuk/s320/xmas+2009+026.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420314999382774706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SzjTxMAkuvI/AAAAAAAAAaM/K14C8N08GDA/s1600-h/xmas+2009+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SzjTxMAkuvI/AAAAAAAAAaM/K14C8N08GDA/s320/xmas+2009+003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420314993531075314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-7361336751889478340?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/7361336751889478340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=7361336751889478340&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7361336751889478340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7361336751889478340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/12/just-some-x-mas-pixs.html' title='Just Some X-mas Pixs'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SzjTyYyfwHI/AAAAAAAAAak/HtzmUh9fi6o/s72-c/xmas+2009+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8052001833187577088</id><published>2009-12-23T06:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T07:43:10.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lump...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The fear was palpable. I took off my shirt and froze. Just froze. I didnt know what else to do, but freeze. Thinking, if I freeze it will go away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The outside of my left breast had a red raised area on it that to me looked like Cancer. But since my mom died, everything to me looks like cancer. I yelled for B to come upstairs, loudly. He came up and stopped in the doorway and stared. No words were spoken when we made eye contact. It felt like he looked straight into my brain and was reading my thoughts. I know he saw the fear in my eyes, because I felt it was there. So he says "Dont panic until you know what to panic over. It could be nothing" He was right. But it could be something too. I knew that. HE knew that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He asked me what I thought it was and I told him that I never saw my moms Inflammatory Breast Cancer. She never showed me. Which kinda makes me angry. Which then kinda makes me sad to be angry. All I know that if I had this, I was showing my daughter. Not now, but i certainly intended to take pictures of it and save them so she has an idea what to look for when she has to start looking.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;We had a date to go x-mas shopping and I felt this put a little bit of a damper on the whole day, but I was determined that this WASNOT going to ruin my day. My Hubby took off and it was going to be a good day if it killed me. (literally)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I called the gyno and told them my situation and told her that I just wanted a script for a mamo. Thats it. Well, they were off on Mondays (ofcourse). I left a message with the midwife service. I did get a call back that the Midwife was going to leave a script at the desk on Tuesday. yea! That definately calmed my nerves. I made a mamo appt for that Wed. Which for me, could have been Wed of 2034...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The day went wonderfully. We shopped for each other and the kids and had lunch together at our old date restaurant place. I almost forgot that I had this little issue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;All I kept thinking the whole day was, If I did have this problem, I am so happy that B is with me again. I KNEW without a shadow of a doubt that he would be there, through whatever I had to do. As I would for him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So, I called my BFF and she recommended putting a warm compress on the area overnight, in case it is a Boil or a pimple that would bring it to a head. Did that. Nothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I had the Dr. at my job poke and prod it, and she had no idea. Well that made me feel better..NOT..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I had to work on Wed, so I left early to get to my appt on time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Not a long wait, but my stomach was in knots the entire time. The Tech was wonderful, and I was able to see the monitor when it was being done. Not that I knew what I was looking at, mind you. But I had done enough research when my mom was diagnosed, and I saw enough pictures of cancer mamos that I thought I could recognize an "off" one. Mine looked good, I thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The Dr was in another office, so she was getting the pictures through the computer. The Pax System I was told. Whatev. As long as she got them, I dont care if a pigeon flew them there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So after a few PAINFUL pictures later, I was told to wait a few minutes in the waiting room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Someone came out and told me to come with her for the sonogram. HUH? My Dr didnt order a sonogram.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Thats when I felt like I was going to have diarrhea and vomit at the same time. The hot sweats came, as I "followed her". To my death sentence I thought. I though of just cutting and running, but I had on a short gown open in the front. Picture that, running down RT 112.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So I layed down on the table, and again, was able to see the screen. I saw nothing. I did see the bump as she went over it, but nothing around it. She finished the test and then said the words "OK we are done, the reports will be sent to your Dr. in a few days, you can follow up with her".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Uhhh, NO, NO I cant. I explained my situation to her and asked her to PLEASE, PLEASE get some info from the Dr. before I leave here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;She left the room and I started to talk to Mom, Or God or the woman in the next room that could hear me through the wall. Whoever was listening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Please let this work out and be nothing. I cant do this, with 2 kids, I like my hair. And my boobs at that. I just got my family back together, I cant do this to them....." Mid sentence, she walked in and said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;" I spoke to the Dr and she said I can tell you that the area looks like a cyst, that should go away on its own, If it doesn't, follow up with your MD and get a biopsy. Nothing to worry about" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Did you hear that NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I actually almost hugged her. But she left in the nick of time. So I stood there, and my eyes filled up, and I thanked the woman listening in the room next door and got dressed and left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I called the hubby on the way home and it felt like a weight was lifted off of me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The top layer of skin came off, and the area had a little discharge recently. It is pretty much gone now. I will still follow up with my gyno, but now with a different outlook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Moral of the story...Always pray to the woman in the next room listening.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8052001833187577088?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8052001833187577088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8052001833187577088&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8052001833187577088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8052001833187577088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/12/lump.html' title='The Lump...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6454681565541499960</id><published>2009-12-20T12:45:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T12:57:20.365-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Storm Yeah!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sy5lNQUw39I/AAAAAAAAAaE/wbUyvKttU8k/s1600-h/snow+storm+09+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sy5lNQUw39I/AAAAAAAAAaE/wbUyvKttU8k/s320/snow+storm+09+006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417378680168046546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sy5lNEJPvYI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/odnenK0zAmY/s1600-h/snow+storm+09+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sy5lNEJPvYI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/odnenK0zAmY/s320/snow+storm+09+003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417378676898512258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sy5lMt1NwvI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/p0Sb3yAQ1hQ/s1600-h/snow+storm+09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sy5lMt1NwvI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/p0Sb3yAQ1hQ/s320/snow+storm+09+002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417378670908916466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started yesterday afternoon, fast and furious.&lt;div&gt;Of course I was shopping in it with girl. We had errands to run and she LOVED shopping in the snow. I was constantly saying "Sara put your tongue back in your mouth and watch where your going" She wanted to catch as many snowflakes as possible in her mouth. She lost count after ten.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The traffic wasnt that bad at that time, but we were out for hours and couldnt wait to get home. We both got our nails done, and hair cuts. She looks so adorable. (as do I ;) )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She kept asking me when she can play in the snow so when it finally stuck she was thrilled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The hubby and the boy, were running seperate errands, like boy stuff ie: Loews, and winter boot shopping. Although i love me some Loews.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We woke up this morning to a HUGE winter wonderland.  The girl squealed and the boy squealed LIKE a girl.. She kept asking me to go out to help shovel with daddy. I was scared if she fell down she would be lost forever. It was THAT deep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the hubby got up he started shoveling and is doing a fantastic job as we speak/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I, on the other hand decided to stay in and do girly things like laundry, baking and making sauce.. all toasty and warm like :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Winter rocks!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6454681565541499960?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6454681565541499960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6454681565541499960&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6454681565541499960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6454681565541499960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/12/snow-storm-yeah.html' title='Snow Storm Yeah!!'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sy5lNQUw39I/AAAAAAAAAaE/wbUyvKttU8k/s72-c/snow+storm+09+006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-2308571177490845864</id><published>2009-12-09T08:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T08:52:17.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sx-q68NhczI/AAAAAAAAAY8/Tolv-oRJVvk/s1600-h/x-mas+family+pixs+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sx-q68NhczI/AAAAAAAAAY8/Tolv-oRJVvk/s320/x-mas+family+pixs+010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413233206694605618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sx-q6l6j3YI/AAAAAAAAAY0/3wgRiW2xJQ0/s320/x-mas+family+pixs+012.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413233200709492098" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sx-q6YoHMwI/AAAAAAAAAYs/tMMxVwV2tpE/s1600-h/x-mas+family+pixs+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sx-q6YoHMwI/AAAAAAAAAYs/tMMxVwV2tpE/s320/x-mas+family+pixs+008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413233197142455042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is by far my favorite time of year. For many reasons.&lt;div&gt;My kids are very excited, about ALL things. Especially about Santa. They wrote their Santa lists. Nick asked for a game and $30?? Huh? Well, he is half is father.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sara asked for a Barbie and a game. ok short lists. But we already went overboard on the gifts. We always do. Good thing i rotate throughout the year, and thin the stuff. I donate to Freecycle, so it makes me feel better to go through their things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, B on the other hand is the most irritating person to buy for. Seriously, what do you get someone who says "I dont need anything". I told him you dont buy what you NEED for x-mas, you get what you WANT. "Well, i don't WANT anything" Grrrr.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now when he asked me, i actually had a list of things that I WANT, and wouldn't buy myself. Ya know, just to make his life easier. See, I'm a giver :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So last night we all got gorgeous and took out family x-mas pixs for our card. We have never done this before. It has always been the kids. I took the pixs last year and made a card, &amp;amp; it came out fabulous. So this year we did it again, but with us in it too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was fairly painless. Laura took the pixs for us and it went well i thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is going to be a very bitter sweet  Christmas for me, as everything has this past year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The happiness i feel when i think of spending th holidays with my intact family, is overwhelming. B told me yesterday that I am a beautiful woman and he is a lucky man. ( i totally agree BTW).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I think I am the lucky one too. The love I get from my family is awesome and this will be the best first x-mas ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sara told me yesterday, that we will dress up, take pictures and send one to Santa then he will definately bring us presents on x-mas eve!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told her she still has to be good for Santa to come, no matter HOW pretty she looks. (hee hee) Which we looked gorgeous..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-2308571177490845864?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/2308571177490845864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=2308571177490845864&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2308571177490845864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2308571177490845864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/12/holiday-time.html' title='Holiday Time'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sx-q68NhczI/AAAAAAAAAY8/Tolv-oRJVvk/s72-c/x-mas+family+pixs+010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1687809020927540520</id><published>2009-11-27T09:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T09:18:00.154-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Thanksgiving Thanks...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sw_n7EUIThI/AAAAAAAAAYk/3wDNGY1GBpw/s1600/thanksgiving+09+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sw_n7EUIThI/AAAAAAAAAYk/3wDNGY1GBpw/s320/thanksgiving+09+005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408796679451725330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sw_n6rlVJYI/AAAAAAAAAYc/nG7H6tm2S_w/s1600/thanksgiving+09+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sw_n6rlVJYI/AAAAAAAAAYc/nG7H6tm2S_w/s320/thanksgiving+09+003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408796672812983682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sw_n6WZgNWI/AAAAAAAAAYU/lQ8X0KTOlow/s1600/thanksgiving+09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sw_n6WZgNWI/AAAAAAAAAYU/lQ8X0KTOlow/s320/thanksgiving+09+002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408796667126232418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Thanksgiving. The start of the dreaded 1st  of the holidays without my mom.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Georgia, serif;color:#000000;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;Also the start of the 1st with my new/old husband and family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I will sum it up with a list of things that I am Thankful for, in no particular order.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* Chocolate and coffee. Together would be great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* Having a job, although I am not too fond of mine at this moment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* My kids. And the fact that they have a sense of humor when dealing with their crazy mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;(oh, and Nick, the cops will not come get you if you fight with your sister on a holiday)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* Xanax&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* My dad. Even though he makes me insane and take the above mentioned med. He is the only parent I have left, and you get what you get and ya don't get upset.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* My sister, because she makes me realize how sane I really am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* The rest of my family, for just being them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;*My mom. Even though she wasnt in the room, I  know she was there with us, shaking her head when I F***ed up the blueberry pie, rolling her eyes when my sis-in-law was rambling on with her nervous energy, after just getting out of the clink, and hugging my dad when he decided to go to restaurant for dinner because he just didnt want to do it without her. I miss her terribly and am grateful that i am half of her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;My husband. Oh, my wonderful, tolerant, patient, understanding, and loving husband. The best thing that has happened to me. Ever. My rock in the  storm of loss and grief, and family. The one person that GETS me, and takes all of me for it. The love of my life, always. I am so Grateful and Thankful that he is in my life once again, for good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving to all, and be thankful daily for all you have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1687809020927540520?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1687809020927540520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1687809020927540520&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1687809020927540520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1687809020927540520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-thanksgiving-thanks.html' title='My Thanksgiving Thanks...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sw_n7EUIThI/AAAAAAAAAYk/3wDNGY1GBpw/s72-c/thanksgiving+09+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4927543344324846409</id><published>2009-11-22T15:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T15:48:47.896-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How I know my Son is growing up....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;His clothes don't fit on the kid hangers anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He used to say "yes mommy"...Now its "WHAAAAT!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I dont have to help him change his clothes anymore. ( i still do, but i don't HAVE to)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He takes showers...i do help him, but he is sooo over baths&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He is in Karate...and he's good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He hangs out with daddy and watches sports, and gets IT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;-------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;How I know he's STILL MY baby:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He LETS me help him get dressed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He still wants me to read him a book before bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He snuggles with me when he's sick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He cries when he's in trouble..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He still calls me MOMMY  :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4927543344324846409?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4927543344324846409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4927543344324846409&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4927543344324846409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4927543344324846409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-i-know-my-son-is-growing-up.html' title='How I know my Son is growing up....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8356917145383842919</id><published>2009-11-19T08:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T09:25:42.851-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Does It Ever end??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Unfortunately the boy takes after me when it comes to his clumsyness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Yesterday I finally got home after an aggravating day and the boy is on the cough under the covers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I told the hubby that I have been concerned about him because he hasnt been himself lately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;1. Sleeping way too much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;2.Not eating as much, definatley diminished appetite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;3. Still running low grade Temps on and off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So when I got home and he was laying on the couch i wasnt really surprised.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;But then he told me that his left arm was hurting him and he couldnt stretch it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Hmmm, so i did my nursing assessment on him, all the while he screamed like a girl. Literally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He didnt look good to me so I took his temp and he had 99.9 Oral so he had a low grade Temp again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;*sigh* I gave him some motrin for said Temp and Screaming arm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;An hour later, he was still complaining so i called the DR, which has evening hours, which i did not know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Took him in , bruised elbow, but his now has STREP THROAT, Ugggg can the kid catch a break?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He actually fell asleep at the DR office on the table under the loud ,bright lights. You know he's sick then. Soooo, Keflex it is. No school today and a script for a x-ray for today. He told me last night that he is tired of feeling sick. :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He woke up using it, (his arm) with little to no pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Its so funny how everything happens for a reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I would have never known that he has Strep if i didnt take him for his arm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;That happens ALOT in my life, God?? Divine Intervention?? Who knows but I am grateful all the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Unrelated stuff:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;S got i the car and i shut the door. She buckled her seatbelt and i got in the car and said "oh, good job!" she says "yeah mommy i buckled my own seatbelt even with the darkness in the way!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I said something to S in the car the other morning and she says "Oh, mommy, daddy was right you are crazy!!!" Umm what??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;N was telling me last night "I guess i wasnt being safe on the swing, thats why i fell off." I then got of the couch and tripped on my shoes. He says "See mommy your not being safe either."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Yeah he was right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;They come out with some stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8356917145383842919?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8356917145383842919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8356917145383842919&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8356917145383842919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8356917145383842919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/11/does-it-ever-end.html' title='Does It Ever end??'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1233271802515140201</id><published>2009-11-11T08:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T09:00:08.667-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When Pigs Fly...into MY  house...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The fear came fast, my heart started to race, my eyes welled with tears. All the news reports came flooding back. A "perfectly healthy teenager dies" "A baby boy died last night" 'The School closed for the week after an outbreak"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;All I heard was my girlfriend that i was lunching with, saying "Its ok, he'll be fine"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My husband was on the other end of the phone telling me the same thing. I was trying to listen to both of them at the same time, all the while the hot sweats came, and i was trying to figure out a way to get home to my son.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Nicky was diagnosed with Swine Flu...THE Swine Flu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Scared was not the word for how i felt when my hubby called me yesterday on the way back from the pediatricians office. I think i said "What the F**k" about 6 times&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He talked me down, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;a little&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;, from the cliff i was on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I had to call around for Tamiflu for him and the girl. I did, to several places. Noone had it. I finally got a CVS that would fill it, but they only have pills. Great! Nick wont put anything in his mouth he doesnt like. This should be fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So the hubby went there, and low and behold they COULDNT fill it because they didnt have the milligrams they needed for him. Grrrrr. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I finally called the pharmacy across from the MD office and they were able to make it in his dosage. Ahhhh, but the MD had to call it in, and i will get it after work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So i'm back at work, and i'm told that if my son has the Swine Flu that means i was exposed so i cant work. WHAT!! I have to be on Tamiflu as well, for 24hrs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So i call MY Dr and she called in a script for me in the same pharmacy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am sooo unbelievably pissed about this. Who the hell are they to tell me what medication i have to take, and furthermore, how will they know if i'm taking it. That should be MY choice not mandated or i cant work. My job is full of assholes i tell ya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So on the way home i stop at the pharmacy and there was an issue with my insurance card (of course it was), but after 35 min i was able to come home with 3 bottles of Tamiflu in 3 different doses (which was another reason it took so long) The pharmacist had to mix them all somehow from the pills. whatev..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Lucky me, though I got the Liquid version too..yuck (yes ,now i know what my kids go through, i GET it).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;When i get home, we cuddled. Alot. He was a little sad and pathetic. His Temp ranged from 102 - 99 throughout the day. I had to run out and get Tylenol as well, cuz his Temp was still high and he wasnt due for the Motrin yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The fear, has diminished, but a part of me still wanted to sleep in his bed last night. I went in his room to give him medicine at 10pm, and he was sleeping. I sat on the floor and listened to him breathe for a while, then woke him. After his meds, i rubbed his back and hair till he fell asleep again....then so did I.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1233271802515140201?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1233271802515140201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1233271802515140201&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1233271802515140201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1233271802515140201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-pigs-flyinto-my-house.html' title='When Pigs Fly...into MY  house...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-3750428185631419860</id><published>2009-11-08T16:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T16:35:17.742-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Fun Day @ the Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5S8HRQ6I/AAAAAAAAAX0/K2cfZqy7tQY/s1600-h/Fall+fun+at+the+park+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5S8HRQ6I/AAAAAAAAAX0/K2cfZqy7tQY/s320/Fall+fun+at+the+park+008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401849275591246754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5Sts9qJI/AAAAAAAAAXs/_FZWZWUi-us/s1600-h/Fall+fun+at+the+park+012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5Sts9qJI/AAAAAAAAAXs/_FZWZWUi-us/s320/Fall+fun+at+the+park+012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401849271722813586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5SQUla-I/AAAAAAAAAXk/u7eLAiS2vL8/s1600-h/Fall+fun+at+the+park+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5SQUla-I/AAAAAAAAAXk/u7eLAiS2vL8/s320/Fall+fun+at+the+park+004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401849263835933666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5SKZXtZI/AAAAAAAAAXc/eCftM5fBILI/s1600-h/Fall+fun+at+the+park+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5SKZXtZI/AAAAAAAAAXc/eCftM5fBILI/s320/Fall+fun+at+the+park+009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401849262245393810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5R1HyCsI/AAAAAAAAAXU/k6MCDEZ5SRc/s1600-h/Fall+fun+at+the+park+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5R1HyCsI/AAAAAAAAAXU/k6MCDEZ5SRc/s320/Fall+fun+at+the+park+007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401849256534477506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;I love my Family.. they are the best thing in my life by far.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Better than Chocolate (any kind, even on cheesecake)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Better than COACH Bags. (although COACH is a close 2nd)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Better than a warm toasty robe on a cold morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;I could go on, but you get the idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;We had decided to go on a "mission" to find a park that was fun and the kids hadnt been to. They were all into the "mission" until we were up to about 20 min of driving, then they were over it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;S felt the need to mention that she is now "annoyed" that this "mission" is taking way to long. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;N played Big Ben and had to tell us every 5min, the time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;But Alas, we ended up at  a park that i took them to a few summers ago, on a beach in Sayville. It was beautiful out, and the kids and a blast. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:georgia;color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-3750428185631419860?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/3750428185631419860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=3750428185631419860&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3750428185631419860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3750428185631419860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/11/family-fun-day-park.html' title='Family Fun Day @ the Park'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Svc5S8HRQ6I/AAAAAAAAAX0/K2cfZqy7tQY/s72-c/Fall+fun+at+the+park+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6135207118293443253</id><published>2009-11-02T18:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T19:13:53.302-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Su9v8G7tlBI/AAAAAAAAAXM/w6GyI1ySsc0/s1600-h/halloween+010.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Su9v8G7tlBI/AAAAAAAAAXM/w6GyI1ySsc0/s320/halloween+010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399657556684411922" /&gt;O&lt;/a&gt;n Friday we went to the boys school for a 'Fall Fun night" they went trick or treating at the school then headed into the gym for some "Monster Mash" Apparently they taught him to "Walk like an Egyptian" I never taught him to dance like that i SWEAR. She was twirling like a princess on crack.....didnt teach her that either..&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Su9v7xGU3PI/AAAAAAAAAXE/cJViHoxs4zw/s1600-h/halloween+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Su9v7xGU3PI/AAAAAAAAAXE/cJViHoxs4zw/s320/halloween+018.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399657550823349490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was before we went Trick or Treating. Or Whinefest 2009. Which started a block and a half away, with " Im tired", "I'm thirsty" "Are we almost home" Grrrrrrrr... I turned into my dad right in front of their eyes... " You kids are spoiled!! When i was your age, we were out till it was dark and my parents had to pull me inside!!" None of this "I'm tired Crap!!" It really is annoying, especially when i just worked all day and the last thing i wanted to do was walk some more...&lt;div&gt;At the end of our night.. My BFF Stacey asked if S can have a sleepover at her house. UH YEA SHE CAN. I packed her bags and she says to me "mommy dont worry, i will be home tomorrow: Whew!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Thats not what i was worried about, the 3AM call was my worry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But she did awesome!! I called to say goodnight to her and she was fine and thrilled to have eaten Chinese food for dinner. so when i said "ok, honey i miss you" She sighed and said "Mommy, i said i was going to see you tomorrow" I swear i could actually HEAR her eyes roll.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had some anxiety about the whole thing. Even though she acts 16 she is really just 4. She told me she didnt sleep all night but i don't know how true that is. She was bright eyed and bushy tailed, in the morning. I think they had a good time. &lt;br /&gt;The best part is that it is another Family Fun thing to do, together.. :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Su9v7lKui1I/AAAAAAAAAW8/GleVxz0YrkE/s1600-h/halloween+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Su9v7lKui1I/AAAAAAAAAW8/GleVxz0YrkE/s320/halloween+016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399657547620584274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6135207118293443253?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6135207118293443253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6135207118293443253&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6135207118293443253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6135207118293443253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Su9v8G7tlBI/AAAAAAAAAXM/w6GyI1ySsc0/s72-c/halloween+010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-7633973295134218360</id><published>2009-10-25T19:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T19:18:58.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpking Picking...Family Fun Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SuTqq9O8NtI/AAAAAAAAAW0/3d4vNLsmuek/s1600-h/pumpkin+picking+2009+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SuTqq9O8NtI/AAAAAAAAAW0/3d4vNLsmuek/s320/pumpkin+picking+2009+008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396696277209331410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My little angels???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SuTqqueRRQI/AAAAAAAAAWs/X5JY09WBJrM/s1600-h/pumpkin+picking+2009+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SuTqqueRRQI/AAAAAAAAAWs/X5JY09WBJrM/s320/pumpkin+picking+2009+005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396696273247094018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SuTqqccLERI/AAAAAAAAAWk/2-Y33PqH6zs/s1600-h/pumpkin+picking+2009+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SuTqqccLERI/AAAAAAAAAWk/2-Y33PqH6zs/s320/pumpkin+picking+2009+003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396696268406460690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Feeling the love....and the sun in her eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SuTqqFqQfeI/AAAAAAAAAWc/r2ZDzOhQZHU/s1600-h/pumpkin+picking+2009+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SuTqqFqQfeI/AAAAAAAAAWc/r2ZDzOhQZHU/s320/pumpkin+picking+2009+001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396696262291520994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-7633973295134218360?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/7633973295134218360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=7633973295134218360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7633973295134218360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7633973295134218360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/10/pumpking-pickingfamily-fun-day.html' title='Pumpking Picking...Family Fun Day'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SuTqq9O8NtI/AAAAAAAAAW0/3d4vNLsmuek/s72-c/pumpkin+picking+2009+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5854186745640417052</id><published>2009-10-15T08:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T08:47:04.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncle Frank</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I didnt know him very well, i just saw pictures. My late mother in law and Aunt V told me some great stories about him and Aunt P.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I got the pleasure of meeting him and hanging out with him 2 Thanksgivings ago. I took the kids and we spent 3 days upstate and stayed with him, and Aunt P. My kids loved him. He was very patient with them, when they asked their millions of questions about his computer and he showed him all the pictures in his computer area.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I found him to be a very kind, patient ,man who was clearly still in love with his wife and family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;B told me recently, that when he looked at his life and how he wanted it to be, he thought of him. He wants to be the father and husband that he was. From what i saw of him, I hope so too.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My life would be more blessed than it already is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;We will miss you Uncle Frank. May you rest in Peace..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5854186745640417052?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5854186745640417052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5854186745640417052&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5854186745640417052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5854186745640417052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/10/uncle-frank.html' title='Uncle Frank'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5129366242532364775</id><published>2009-10-10T07:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T08:28:48.204-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama, Drama, may be over......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;So it has been an icecream in the dirt kinda week here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;However, it has gotten better. Thanks to my wonderful, superhero husband, (cue music here) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Thursday all Hell broke loose at the Okun household. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;My sister decided to start texting my again. I did text my niece earlier in the day to tell her that i am no longer speaking to my sister and my niece can come over whenever she wants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Apparently, that pissed off the "crazyone"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;So the texts started again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Mean, rude, nasty, even threatening ones. She actually said that she would "punch me in the face" if she came over here. That is laughable, but dream on sista...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;So the last sentence of the last text was "i cant wait to see you at your funeral".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Sound a little threatening? Yea to me too and the cops as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Sooooo, i called my dad and told him that HE is the only one talking to her and he needs to tell her to back off. That OFCOURSE started a fight between him and I. Uggg again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;He hung up on me, so i went over there, where the fight continued. He defended my sister, and i told him to get out and live with her..period. End of story. and i meant every word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;I then came home, in a tizzy, went upstairs and threw a pair of shorts, of B's, against the wall. Breaking the belt. (again sorry about that babe..love ya) But i did get cracked in the forehead with the piece of the beltbuckle. (poetic justice?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;B decided that is was finally time to speak to my dad about this nonsense. (this is where the super hero kicks in). He put on his cape (or shoes, whatever) and flew over there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;I, of course being extremely nosey, followed him in the dark and watched through the back door to see where it was going on. When i saw him sit down , i felt kinda relieved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;So I then went to the side of the house to listen through the window, which i couldnt hear anything . Uggg. ( i have since spoken to my brother about keeping the window half open for eavesdropping purposes. Which he then informed me that he keeps it closed so he doesn't have to hear me yelling at my kids....whatev)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Then MY kids needed attention, like bedtime and love and crap like that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;My spying time was over. Dam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Over an hour later, he comes home. finally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;He made a very long story short, kinda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Basically with ALOT of slow talking and explaining. Some times twice. He kinda, maybe, GOT IT a little... B. has the patients of a saint and does'nt yell. (thats his super hero strenght BTW)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Me? NOT so much...I have little patients and yell. alot. Match made in heaven huh??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Dad is upset at the way i spoke to him. B told him that is was in direct response to how he spoke to ME. (Saying you are embarrased that i am your daughter, can lead to some nasty talk)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;B also explained that telling someone to drop dead, that she wants to punch me and cant wait to go to my funeral, among a million other nasty things, is NOT NICE sister talk...which then explains why she no longer is mine. This went on for a long long time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;But in the end, alas, they shook hands, with an understanding that if Dad feels that he is being "spoken down to" He will come and speak to us and not fly off the handle..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;He still isnt happy with the way we communicate, and neither am I, but it is just something we need to work on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Did I mention that B and My bro spoke on Wed too. My Craptacular B-day, that was shot to hell with family drama, my son having Diarrhea and having to stay home from school, which led me to cancel my "day of Spa fun" for me. Although i did get to go to lunch with my 2 favorite boys, so that was a highlight. But B and the Bro are fine as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;My sister has now made her bed, now she must lie in it. Alone.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5129366242532364775?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5129366242532364775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5129366242532364775&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5129366242532364775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5129366242532364775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/10/drama-drama-may-be-over.html' title='Drama, Drama, may be over......'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-157424054857193660</id><published>2009-10-07T08:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T08:46:49.288-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Its my party...and i'll cry if I want too!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#3366ff;"&gt;So its my birthday. The first one since mom died.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;The first one since i remarried my love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Today sucks for so many reasons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;My sister has now upgraded me from selfish Bitch to just "drop dead". I blocked her as a friend on Facebook because i HAD to. Doesn't stop her from leaving me 2 very nasty e-mails. Which I didnot respond to. (proud of me, cuz Lord know i wanted to). It wouldnt have solved anything. I have saved them and the texts she sent. If she continues I will lodge a complaint with optimum about harrassement. She blames me for so much of her jealous screwed up life, its sad and pathetic, and if my dad has a heart attack because of stress, she blames me too. I'm sure regardless of when it happens. It can be 5 yrs from now, but it will STILL be my fault. Her problems run very very deep and always has. She needs to go back to her therapist, becasue she has alot of anger issues , guilt issues, depression and anxiety. Which i am sure I wil be blamed for as well. (never mind she has had those her whole life)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;My niece left something on Facebook and was texting me for a while yesterday. She knows her mom started this crap, but she is still mad and hurt. I told her my side of it, and told her she is 17 and can make her own decisions. I wouldn't want to EVER have my sister as HER  mother, so she is in a tight spot. I feel for her on so many levels. I told her that i am rooting for her to get the life she wants, b/c this family is so disfunctional she need to get a life of her own.  My sister tells her so many things that i know she has no idea what she wants to do. I love her, and feel for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;My brother and B are suppose to have a talk later today. Not sure how thats going to play out but it has to be done. Someone has got to Man up and speak to B about this instead of just painting him as an evil person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Whatever happens, the relationship with my sister is wrecked and too far gone to be fixed.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Whatever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Moving On&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-157424054857193660?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/157424054857193660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=157424054857193660&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/157424054857193660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/157424054857193660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-my-partyand-ill-cry-if-i-want-too.html' title='Its my party...and i&apos;ll cry if I want too!!!'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4864908716332092921</id><published>2009-10-05T06:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T07:14:24.609-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000099;"&gt;You would think that explaining your family would be the easiest thing you can do. You have known them your whole life, inside and out. Been in the family for all the ups and downs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Well, for me its not the case at all. Just when i think i know my family, I don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;They can be the most rudest, disrespectful, ignorant group of people i have every met. Then they could be the best family i could ask for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Yesterday, the rude and disrespectfulness reared its ugly head. Which has happened alot, funny enough, since me and B have been back together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;I'm not sure if its anger, or resentfulness, of jealousy (it IS on my sisters part i know), but they are ruder and meaner to him since then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;My husband can be arrogant in his own right, I know this. But, when he is being arrogant, he is usually being right at the same time. He just asks for the same amount of respect he would give, and my family DOES NOT do that. They do, however, know how to ask for things that would benefit them. Alot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;B owns that house next door w/his sister. Something needed to be fixed that could wait until OUR fix it guy can come do it. My brother was supposedly fine with it. Well, yesterday things changed and he decided he wasnt fine with it and couldnt wait. (that was my fathers doing i'm sure). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Instead of telling B they were geting someone else to fix it, they just went ahead and asked over someone to do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Now, i mentioned before, that B owns that house. But everytime he mentions that, my family says that he is "throwning that up to them". Well its a fact. Period. They dont like it, but they would NEVER treat any other landlord like that. They would give them the courtesty of a phone call to tell them that they are bringing someone in to fix something in HIS house. Plus, the guy they brought over screwed up something WE had him do for us before, so it wouldnt be our ideal person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;But again, my family don't understand respect or courtsey of any kind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;When B went outside to ask my father to tell him next time when they were going to bring someone in the house, he flipped. Yelling at B. Now WE all know my dad is a yeller, always has been. But again EVERYONE thinks thats just OK because its dad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Well, its not ok. My sister also seems to think that my dad could murder someone and it would be ok, because my mom died so dad can do no wrong. Or better yet, can be excused for his behavior because mom died. I got news for her. It can't be excused, and i'm tired of everyone using my moms death for an excuse for their idiotic, stupid behavior and choices!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Now, i havent talked to my dad, but i got this info from my sister. Which is like getting it from noone b/c she has no clue. About anything. All she knows it that dad didnt like what B was saying to him, so he yelled at him, and said that they dont need to talk anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;But again, anything dad says in her eyes is ok. So I'm the selfish bitch and B is an arrogant jerk and that is that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Frankly, i am fine with not speaking to her. She is the most immature, ignorant, lonely, sad, mean, passive aggressive person i have ever met. As long as people are doing for her, she is fine. But as soon as someone disagrees with her, she freaks out and yells at them and says what she wants. Then when she realizes that she has gone too far yet again, its apology time, and i forgive her. Well, this time, the stuff she wrote me is unforgiveable. Then she goes and posts stuff on Facebook about me like the immature 15 yr old she is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Her daughter has more maturity and brains than she does, at 17 then she does at 40.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Frankly the only person i would want my kids to see is my niece in this case, my sister can stay home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;As far as my brother and father is concerned, we will see where that goes. I told B that it is my brothers fault that he called the guy and never told B. So he needs to talk to him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;At this point B doesn't want to talk to any member of my family, and i cant blame him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;If he was complety wrong i would let him know. Believe me. But my dads exact words were "I knew you would have something to say about it"  Which shows he knew he was wrong and should have called B first and give him a heads up. It wasnt fair and he knew it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;The fact that he wasnt happy with B coming outside and telling him that, doesnt give him the right to yell and scream at him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;The fact remains, like it or not, B has gotten EVERYONE in my family out of some kind of jam or problem, and noone has a problem taking advantage of that. Whether it is giving them money, and i say giving, because noone seems to know what "paying back" means. Or giving them furniture they need, or a place to live. Cheap. or any of the million other things that he has done. Then i am told that he throws it up in their faces of the things that he has done.  Well, he does it to me at times to, because at the time, he is being taking advantage of and disrespected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;All my family knows how to do it put their hands out and ask for things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;So they babysit, occasionally, and take my son to school. OK. Great. Thanks for that. But it certainly doesn't fix that fact that they dont like him and it shows, alot. Until something is wanted or needed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;He is here to stay and so is this marriage. Too bad noone else is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000099;"&gt;Moving ON...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4864908716332092921?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4864908716332092921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4864908716332092921&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4864908716332092921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4864908716332092921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-family.html' title='My Family'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-2313708265226512815</id><published>2009-09-30T06:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T06:28:14.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall...Fall...Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Fall is here..My absolutely favorite season.  Everything is new and crisp, and changing colors. Coming from daycare the other day, i pointed out some trees that already had the red leaves peeking through. The kids were thrilled. "WOW mommy look at that!!! their RED!!" I know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sara says "ohhhh they are beaaaauuuuuuttttiiiifffuuullllll!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;My kids appreciate nature and i love it. They point out things that i dont even see. Last year they had a ball bringing me in different leaves everyday. Eventually i had to get a shoe box to store them, becasue God forbid I put them back outside. I thought it was adorable and sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;The summer, Sara usually brings me in flowers or rocks, and the spring as well. The winter, i get nothing. Although when it snows, she thinks she is bringing me in some. Uh NO.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I love dressing them up in their little sweaters and boots, looking cute with themselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;(Although there is something to be said about Sara in sundresses  Yummmy too cute)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;It is getting cold in here in the mornings as well, then i go around shutting the windows, then when i get home from work i go around opening them again cuz it got warm again. Its ok. I still love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;The fall is my birthday as well. I'll be 37. Ugggg too close to 40 and not close enough to 30.  My 30's was pretty good.  2 kids 1 marraige 1 divorce 1marraige again. Lets stop that pattern huh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;This Saturday me and dad are celebrating together, he is Oct3 mine is 7th. Another party to try and celebrate through without my mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;And i cant possibly put it in the back in my mind, being Oct is breast Cancer awareness month. And EVERYTHING is pink, and everyone is hawking their products to raise money. There is so much crap to raise money, by now you would think there should be a cure. Although there is NO MONEY in a cure so why cure it?? My father still has bills from the hospitals, where the insurance company didnt cover certain things. Its sad, and pathetic and it makes me sick thinking about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;So i will go on enjoying my fall weather, and my life.....The kids eating dessert, the hubby making lunch, and me washing dishes. all in the same room as a little family. That is what i will focus on..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Moving On....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-2313708265226512815?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/2313708265226512815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=2313708265226512815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2313708265226512815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2313708265226512815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/09/fallfallfall.html' title='Fall...Fall...Fall'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-457397740020794821</id><published>2009-09-21T06:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T06:25:40.677-05:00</updated><title type='text'>'Tis the Season.....</title><content type='html'>'Tis the season I guess. I have death all around me. Change of season, I guess. At work, my residents are dying at a rapid rate. 3 in 2 weeks, and i still have a resident in the hospital that is a litte iffy.&lt;br /&gt;My neighbor Deb just passed on Wed. I noticed the other day that there was a Medical Supply truck at her house delivering a hospital bed. Uggg, I know that truck well, and the memories hit me hard. I had to go in the house. She also had cancer, and she was also young. She has a 13yr old girl, that is at the prime of her life for a mother. The thought makes me tear up thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;We had my Neices B-day party on Saturday. 17. wow. My neighbors daughter, emily, had hers too.  Hers was too sad, as well as ours. We both had to celebrate a party without the one person in our lives that we need there the most.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night, after reading the kids a book, S asked me to rock her and sing her "Bushel in a Peck"..."i love you, a bushel in a peck, a bushel in a peck and a hug around the neck......."&lt;br /&gt;My mom sang that to us our whole lives, and she sang them to my kids too. so i sang it to her of course and by the end i had a lump in my throat, and tears in my eyes. she didnt understand why, and thats ok.&lt;br /&gt;I just miss her everyday, and these next few months are gonna suck. This begins the "bulk" of the birthday months, that fall right into the holidays. I kinda wanna sleep through it all, but i must continue to be a wife and mom and be a functioning member of society.&lt;br /&gt;They all say the first year is the hardest, well they were right.&lt;br /&gt;Its hard&lt;br /&gt;Its sad&lt;br /&gt;It sucks that i cried on the way to work yesterday and ruined my makeup i just applied.&lt;br /&gt;But alas, we are all Moving On....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-457397740020794821?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/457397740020794821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=457397740020794821&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/457397740020794821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/457397740020794821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/09/tis-season.html' title='&apos;Tis the Season.....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8600805876613656275</id><published>2009-09-13T17:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T17:15:58.809-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Family fun day out again...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sq1ux4WpXLI/AAAAAAAAAWU/1x-bhpymHqg/s1600-h/Apple+Picking+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381078932997627058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sq1ux4WpXLI/AAAAAAAAAWU/1x-bhpymHqg/s320/Apple+Picking+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sq1uxQQ4q_I/AAAAAAAAAWM/vaTjCitu-AA/s1600-h/Apple+Picking+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381078922236046322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sq1uxQQ4q_I/AAAAAAAAAWM/vaTjCitu-AA/s320/Apple+Picking+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sq1uw8V-jQI/AAAAAAAAAWE/cjnmn-ptzi0/s1600-h/Apple+Picking+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381078916888694018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sq1uw8V-jQI/AAAAAAAAAWE/cjnmn-ptzi0/s320/Apple+Picking+008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;Im really starting to enjoy this family fun day thing....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;Today we went apple picking out east. We also hit the Outlets of course, the boy needed shoes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;We went to one that said they had apples to pick, but we didnt see any at first. They did, however, have a bunch of climb on thingys. Then when we asked about the apples, it was $13 for a bag to go pick yourself. Uhhhh NOT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;We went down the road to a huge and very packed place. It was fun. The kids had a good time i think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;Can't wait to go Pumpkin picking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8600805876613656275?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8600805876613656275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8600805876613656275&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8600805876613656275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8600805876613656275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/09/family-fun-day-out-again.html' title='Family fun day out again...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sq1ux4WpXLI/AAAAAAAAAWU/1x-bhpymHqg/s72-c/Apple+Picking+003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1879254254391412166</id><published>2009-09-09T11:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T11:55:29.461-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not So Bad...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sqfbkqcj_YI/AAAAAAAAAV8/q4vTjoo9a6U/s1600-h/karate+and+school+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379509702833208706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sqfbkqcj_YI/AAAAAAAAAV8/q4vTjoo9a6U/s320/karate+and+school+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SqfbkEp6dCI/AAAAAAAAAV0/3HVPAz1iGUY/s1600-h/karate+and+school+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379509692688659490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SqfbkEp6dCI/AAAAAAAAAV0/3HVPAz1iGUY/s320/karate+and+school+007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;First day of 1st grade. The sis is there for support..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to say i was strong this morning. When i got to the school, there was a ton of people outside. So I thought "well this can't be good."  I hate crowds of people. Especially when they just stop short in front of you to talk to someone on the sidewalk that they havent seen in 2 months and feel the need to tell them their WHOLE summer right AT THAT MOMENT!! and not even take a glance over their shoulder to see the mother and her two kids trying to get to the door. and the mother is having HUGE anxiety about dropping her son off into a CROWD!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*AHEM* so all went well. I sent him in the buliding and he kept coming out because he couldn't see with all the people in the way. So i walked in with him and sent him down the right hallway. He remembered where his class was. PS thanks to Mrs McGuire for that meet and greet on Thursday..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I felt very nervous when i left, not sure why, but i took the girl to school and now i am just doing some house strainghtening. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Next year should be interesting. Oh, no tears!! :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1879254254391412166?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1879254254391412166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1879254254391412166&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1879254254391412166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1879254254391412166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/09/not-so-bad.html' title='Not So Bad...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Sqfbkqcj_YI/AAAAAAAAAV8/q4vTjoo9a6U/s72-c/karate+and+school+009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8087460492369163477</id><published>2009-09-08T09:29:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T09:57:57.572-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things to do...Things to do...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I have so much to do, i cant even begin to move.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;We are starting Southbeach Diet again. The last time we did it, it was 2004. It was right before i got PG with Sara. We looked very good. (probably why I got PG Hee hee)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Soooo I MUST go to BJ's to get a huge Laundry list of things to start this diet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Its hard and expensive to eat right. *sigh* But we must do it. for B's health especially, but for mine too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I have to make Breakfast Egg Cups and Spinach Frittata for B's breakfast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I have to cut up all the veggies for our snacks for the week. (mmmm sound just wonderful huh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I also have to finish the laundry and do the dishes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;The good thing is, i have dinner in the Crock Pot right now. Chicken breast and a bag of mixed veggies. Thats it. simple and good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;The hubby started work again today. I miss him. Usually when i'm off, he is here with me and we make a plan for the day together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;But i am on my own.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I cant leave at the moment cuz i am babysitting my friends daughter while she is at the Dr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;So i guess i will do the inside stuff first and shop later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I still cant believe that school is tomorrow and my baby is going into 1st grade  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I'm going to be strong when my baby walks throught those big doors into the school and he is gone for 6 hrs to do things on his own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;He has started already, by making his breakfast ie: pouring his cheerios &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;and we talked about the things he will do himself. He packed his own lunch money and put it in his bookbag in the designated spot. He will pack his snack too later. He likes doing things himself, he feels like a big boy he says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;So tomorrow is the day, and i will be strong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I promise. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;maybe....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8087460492369163477?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8087460492369163477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8087460492369163477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8087460492369163477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8087460492369163477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/09/things-to-dothings-to-do.html' title='Things to do...Things to do...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-2116397656675596109</id><published>2009-09-03T16:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T16:24:15.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meeting the Teacher</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;The other day N's new teacher sent a letter home to him. It was so sweet cuz he was so excited to get mail. So he read the letter from the teacher and it was all about what they are going to learn etc.... It also invited him to come and meet her today between 1-2pm. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I was waiting for the counter guy to come and he was late. But i said, come Hell or High water, we are meeting this teacher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Her name is Mrs. Mcguire. She is very nice and short. (doesnt mean a thing, but what is with the short teachers?? His last one, was like 4'8)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;She was telling me that it is a big leap from kindergarten to 1st grade, which i already knew, with my heart palputating and all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;She said that they are walked to the cafeteria and dropped off and they are on their own, no Aide sitting with them like last yr. ALL BY THEM SELVES. There are 2 cafe aids but they overlook the whole cafe, not just my sons table. I have a feeling he is gonna be one hungry boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;One of his friends from T-ball was there and they are going to be in the same class. Oh Boy, they were already fooling around, so i told her to keep them seperated if she wants them to learn anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;She said she lets everyone sit whereever they want and she tells them to pick a new seat daily. If it gets to the point that everyone is sitting with the same people all the time, she WILL assign seats. ok, im fine with that, cuz if N sits with that boy he will get in trouble...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I fixed his desk up in his room, cuz he said he needs a spot to "work", so i went through everything and took out his workbooks and pencils.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;He will have a homework packet on mon. and it has to be returned on Friday. I like that idea,he has all week to work on it. He has a full week with karate M-W-F, so he can do it in between. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;After school they let them out of a side door and they all run to the playground like animals breaking free from the zoo. Noone looks for anyone to come and get them like last year, so papa needs to be on time. Last yr if you were late, he stayed inside until you physically got him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;**Sigh......* so much change, and he is growning up so fast. Ugggg i cant take it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Then next yr it will be the girls turn to rip my heart out...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Schools fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-2116397656675596109?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/2116397656675596109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=2116397656675596109&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2116397656675596109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/2116397656675596109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/09/meeting-teacher.html' title='Meeting the Teacher'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8117876766560626896</id><published>2009-08-30T09:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T09:11:07.552-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1st grade..the hardest grade??</title><content type='html'>Well the boy is starting 1st grade next week. We recieved all his paperwork and the teacher he got comes with good recommendation. I still have left over school supplies so we dont have to buy much, and his clothes are good as well. I should be thrilled, it wont be too expensive this year.&lt;br /&gt;So why do I have a knot in my stomach about him starting school??&lt;br /&gt;I guess because as a kindergardener he was still my "baby".&lt;br /&gt;Now in 1st grade, he is growing up. He has to go through the FRONT DOORS with everyone else. I don't drop him off in the back, and hand him over to a capable woman holding the doors open for him. I have to let him go free, and enter the building alone. I think this may be harder than dropping him off in Kindergarden. *sigh*....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8117876766560626896?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8117876766560626896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8117876766560626896&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8117876766560626896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8117876766560626896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/08/1st-gradethe-hardest-grade.html' title='1st grade..the hardest grade??'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8158469513193590199</id><published>2009-08-28T19:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T19:23:12.294-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A few things i NEVER thought i would say in my lifetime</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#009900;"&gt;1. NO wet mermaids on the sink!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;2.No you cannot SEE where your brothers farts come from...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;3.Yes, you will get "fur" when you get older. (dont ask)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;4. Of COURSE I want to be a butterfly when I grow up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;5. No you wont be "medium" when you wake up in the morning..( opposed to the small size she is now)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8158469513193590199?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8158469513193590199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8158469513193590199&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8158469513193590199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8158469513193590199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/08/few-things-i-never-thought-i-would-say.html' title='A few things i NEVER thought i would say in my lifetime'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8584218084074748396</id><published>2009-08-20T16:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T17:31:21.612-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OUR FAMILY DAY OUT....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;We decided in lieu of a go away vaca, we did a staycation. You  know the vacations you take where you stay home and not spend 4,000,000 going to a place you will hate in the end anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;So we decided to go to Sesame Place in PA. We spent alot of time on-line researching it. We were going to stay overnight and do a 2day pass, but the cheapest hotel and with the park prices etc, it would have come to over $600. Way too much for a day trip vaca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;SOOOO we decided on a 1 day trip. It takes about 2 1/2 hrs to get there so B was fine with driving both ways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;We left the house around 6:10am. I packed the night before so i didnt have to do much in the morning. B had an old laptop that we were able to set up for a movie in the car. Wopeee!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;For the kids not us...dam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;We drove with no traffic, gave the kids breakfast and started the movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Then we hear the dredded words "mommy?? i have to go to the bathroom....Me tooooo mommy. Really bad mommmmy really bad"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Yikes. We are NOWHERE near a rest stop. Not even a sign that says "rest stop".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Uggg. So what does the Mother Of The Year do?? Pull over and let the kids pee on the side of the Jersey Turnpike.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Yeah I did. and I have to say, S peed very good outside for a girl thats never peed outside before. It only hit her leg a little. *sniff* so proud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;N just peed and peeed and peeed i thought he was never gonna stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Then of course 10min up the road was a rest stop. They would have never made it that far.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;We get to the park 8:45 and get a prime parking spot. Sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;So we get tickets and i'm looking around thinking "wow there really arent alot of people on line" Hmmm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Well I asked one of the people in line and they were there for  breakfast with Elmo. Uhhh nooo. Well no wonder it was so short and the parking so great. Duh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;It didnt actually open until 10:00am *sigh* So off to Mcdonalds we go for breakfast. Yumm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;When we actually got there at the RIGHT time, the lines were looooonnnnngggg. There was alot of "God, what is taking so long!!!!" (from B not the kids)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;So we got in, and got a locker for our crap. Well, our duffle bag we packed didnt fit in the locker. Grrrrr. Thank goodness the guy behind the counter was nice enough to  take it and put it behind the counter for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;FINALLY off to the rides we gooo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;The lines there were very very long. *sigh* more waiting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Let me just stop here, and mention that MY kids were AMAZING. The wait on some of those lines were absolutly ridiculous. The line of the day seemed to be " If you don't knock it off, we are leaving!!! do you want to go in the car and wait??!! cuz you will!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;I can't tell you how many times i heard that yesterday. amazingly enough not from me :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;Well the slides were a BLAST!! My children have NO fear of that stuff. (show N a kitten though and he breaks into sobs, send him 3000 feet in the air and throw him down a slide in a dark tube? NO problem. uggg)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;I do have to tell you that those water slides ARE NOT made for 36yr old, overweight, half crippled with ankle and hip pain, already sunburned from the day before, ladies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;See THAT should be on the signs, not "if your under 36' you have to ride with an adult." Cuz, i have to say with all the above mentioned, adding my 50lb daughter on my lap in an innertube that my ass already drags in, is just no fun!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;B went on a few rides with us, but he mostly watched for our kids to come shooting out of the bottom of a tube. fun for him right?? He was a trooper though, cuz i sure wouldnt wanna be hanging around in the scorching sun doing that! Thanks babe, You rock, and the kids will always remember this as their first trip as a family!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;We had lunch in the place which was an awful rippoff and cost about $45.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;And for the first time in my life, i didnt care that the kids icecream went all over their bodies, cuz they were in their swimsuits and i just threw some water on them and BOOM! MESS BE GONE!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;The only thing that sucked, is that my camera stayed in the locker. didnt want it ruined. But then i saw some people walking around with a plastic box hanging around their necks, Well, low and behold, it held a camera. Inventive huh?? Gotta get me one of them for next time. I have 1 pix with us in the front of the place. Thats it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Well, i do know, for sure, that my kids had the BEST time. They were only getting ansy by the end of the car ride home. Me too for that matter. But you know they held on really good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I now know that i can take my kids out for the day and they wont be complete animals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I love them dearly, more and more each day for that matter. and they continue to prove to me that by God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;THEY CAN BE TAUGHT!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8584218084074748396?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8584218084074748396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8584218084074748396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8584218084074748396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8584218084074748396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/08/our-family-day-out.html' title='OUR FAMILY DAY OUT....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-973676496477716677</id><published>2009-08-17T21:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T21:45:38.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My semi-new Kitchen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU54oW7eI/AAAAAAAAAVs/8VZlqctgTh8/s1600-h/house+073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371128490279497186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU54oW7eI/AAAAAAAAAVs/8VZlqctgTh8/s320/house+073.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU5k8cPeI/AAAAAAAAAVk/jEMUn89INXE/s1600-h/house+072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371128484995022306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU5k8cPeI/AAAAAAAAAVk/jEMUn89INXE/s320/house+072.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU5LX5gEI/AAAAAAAAAVc/RI3NyUpNHOA/s1600-h/house+074.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; My new pantry!!! The shelves pull out!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU4oJiaZI/AAAAAAAAAVU/Ed5z8BPwtig/s1600-h/house+070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371128468675389842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU4oJiaZI/AAAAAAAAAVU/Ed5z8BPwtig/s320/house+070.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEFORE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU4DmIZRI/AAAAAAAAAVM/ZV6gbP4J3KY/s1600-h/house+068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371128458863207698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU4DmIZRI/AAAAAAAAAVM/ZV6gbP4J3KY/s320/house+068.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU5LX5gEI/AAAAAAAAAVc/RI3NyUpNHOA/s1600-h/house+074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371128478130864194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU5LX5gEI/AAAAAAAAAVc/RI3NyUpNHOA/s320/house+074.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;AFTER&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-973676496477716677?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/973676496477716677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=973676496477716677&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/973676496477716677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/973676496477716677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-semi-new-kitchen.html' title='My semi-new Kitchen'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SooU54oW7eI/AAAAAAAAAVs/8VZlqctgTh8/s72-c/house+073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5578192548457880226</id><published>2009-08-17T07:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T07:34:41.049-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our new kitchen</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"&gt;SOOOOOI really wanted to post some before and after pictures of my kitchen, but....when i put my pictures on the computer, i put it onto Kodak easyshare. When i try to download them i get only the pictures that i downloaded from my wedding. The pictures go into a file already in this computer apparently. I gotta figure out how to do that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;Anywhooo....On Friday Doug fix-it came over and re-arranged our kitchen. He also built the most amazing pantry ever. It is HUGE and the drawers pull completely out!! The best part?? It holds ALL my crap!! He also hung 2 new cabinets!! For more crap :) love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;We did have a little issue with one cabinet, it is now null and void and going out to the curb. So that takes some counter space away, but as soon as we order and get our new countertop he will extend it a little and it will be fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;The week when he came was a little bit of a nightmare. We had to clean out the pantry and move that upstairs for storage, then cleanout the computer desk, and move that to the curb. Clean off the counters, clean out the counter cabinets, and move all the kids stuff from the kitchen. You know, you dont realize the stuff you have till you have to move it, i tell ya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;We got a corner computer desk for the living room, and we had to move the bookshelf that was in that spot and bring that upstairs. *sigh* too much stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;Oh, and putting the new desk together almost got us divorced AGAIN....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;So right now, we have to order our countertop and floor and doug is coming back around mid-Sept to actually finish the kitchen. That will kinda be a pain, but worth it .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;Hopefully i will figure out this picture thing soon and post some.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;All for now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;Moving ON...to a new and improved home....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5578192548457880226?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5578192548457880226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5578192548457880226&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5578192548457880226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5578192548457880226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/08/our-new-kitchen.html' title='Our new kitchen'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-8899314524745827817</id><published>2009-08-10T09:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T09:45:52.937-05:00</updated><title type='text'>6 months and 11 years</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33cc00;"&gt;On Aug.6 mom has been gone 6 months. 6 LONG months.  Ihave to admit, it feels like 6yrs.  As the snow melted and the warmth began, i felt like it just melted into yrs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I still miss her everyday, and the kids talk about her regularly. I hope they always will have some kind of memory of her. I will try my best to keep memorys of her flowing, I have pictures  of her around so they won't EVER  forget what she looks like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;There are days i wake up and can't believe she is gone, and that it went so fast. I am always sad that she isn't here to see how happy I am now and how our family is back together. I think she would be so happy, after the initial shock. Like everyone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;So that leads to Aug 7th. I was a nurse 11 yrs on that day. My mom ALWAYS, and i mean ALWAYS. gave/sent me a card on that day. She always told me how proud she was of me and how much she loves me. I mentioned it to B, and how sad i was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;When i got home from work, he gave me a card, with something beautiful written inside. *sigh* that is why i love him so much. He is so generous, and caring, and thoughtful. He rocks!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;It made the day better, like he always does. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;So today the girl is home with me. B has to "work" for the next 4 days. Its actually an inservice thing he is doing, and getting paid for it, so its ok. I just think he is annoyed cuz he has to put on clothes ..hee hee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I am going to get my hair colored and highlighted today.  The girl is coming with. so pray she is good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Anywho, Summer is coming to a close soon. It is 98degrees here today (I know poor me...from TX) but i want 70 back, uggggg even my eyelashes are sweating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;All for now.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-8899314524745827817?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/8899314524745827817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=8899314524745827817&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8899314524745827817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/8899314524745827817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/08/6-months-and-11-years.html' title='6 months and 11 years'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-7681129359242870634</id><published>2009-08-04T05:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T05:17:20.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Help needed....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Im up early&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I toss and turn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I have bad dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;That has been my life in the past few days. I got in a fight with my father on Saturday and my sister on sunday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I just can't believe that i am even fighing this fight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Because of an incident that happened at my brothers house, my father feels the need to help him with the rent. Fine. But at the same time he wants to give him the rent that he gives us (which is minimal) but still live here. Hmmm that doesnt sound right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;But to him it makes perfect sense. Give away our rent, but still live here, eat here, do laundry, run the tv, the air etc....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;My solution: give him the rent, but live there and get something for it. Makes sense right??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;No. got us in a huge fight. Huge. then he went and told my sister about it and said that i felt she was a burden when SHE  lived here last summer. (which i never said) and now WE are in a fight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;The only ones not in  a fight is me and lou, i think. I havent talked to him. Maybe we are and i dont know it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;What people dont understand is that i have had people living with me since last June. I never minded that except everyone lived here to "get back on their feet" but then knocked me off mine. they thought giving me a few bucks to live here was enough to cover the bills they made. And it wasnt. But i never said anything, to anyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;But then i feel HUGELY taken advantage of, when things like this come up and i feel completly screwed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I am now in a very god place in my life, and my family knows it. I think my dad thinks that me and B dont "need" the extra money so he'll just give it away to someone that does. Not Fair. I am all for helping and i think we have proved that many many times, but i feel we are not reciprocated.&lt;br /&gt;Some people think that watching my children every now and again, takes the place of money owed and living arrangements, and free furniture, things they need.  But you know what does?? Gratitude and respect, and not jumping on the ban wagon of whoever is mad at the moment, without hearing both sides of the story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Anywho, as of lastnight, i think dad is going next door. I am glad. Lou needs his help right now. I just wish it was on different terms here...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-7681129359242870634?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/7681129359242870634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=7681129359242870634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7681129359242870634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7681129359242870634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/08/help-needed.html' title='Help needed....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-3236306379287802302</id><published>2009-08-01T08:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T08:56:49.414-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just some Randomness...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#009900;"&gt;I know i havent been blogging much, but it IS the summer. And frankly my life is kinda boring at the moment. (Well, not really, but there is a personal something going on, that i cant discuss right now. Not directly related to the O's)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I could always blog EVERYDAY about my summer days, but i would hate to be the cause of you dying of boredom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Right now, it is Saturday and i am just hanging out waiting for my g-friend to get here. We are heading to a local town to a street fair. I love those and i havent been in a while. The kids will probably be bored to tears, but i hope to bribe them with the beach tomorrow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;The honey is playing golf in the mens club today. Good for him, he deserves it too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Work has been pretty good lately. No more death. We got our 3. They usually go in 3's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;My charge nurse Julie just found out that her mom has Ovarian cancer. Ugggg. she lives in fla and is doing it all there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;UH, i FEEL her pain. i cried with her in the back room when she told me. My heart breaks for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Why is it ,all tradgedys happen at once. Our particular unit has them left and right. I guess b/c there are so many of us that something is always happening to one of us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Anywho. My life is pretty wonderful right now.  The summer is here and the kids are enjoying it i think. N LOVES camp and S LOVES  her dance class. She is so hysterical in it too. She follows everything the instructor does, and is so professional about it. I have to post a pix of her in her dance clothes. too cute. I think we will sign her up for Sept for ballet and tap combo. She actually is more graceful than i give her credit for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Being married is wonderful as well, we were talking about it the other day and it just seems that it is easier this time around. Not sure why, we still have the same amt of responsibility but it just feels like it is easier now. Not complaining, mind you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Maybe because we are more in love now, have a different kind of respect for eachother, and appreciation. We have  had a few little arguments, which i would expect, but we handle them differently now. Either way, i am just so happy to be married to him again and have our family back, that i will never let it go again..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;So i hope everyone is having a great summer too, and that everyone is safe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I can't believe it is August already and school is in a month. N is so excited to start the 1st grade, i feel like S should starting kindergarten, but i have another year!! uggggg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Oh, if anyone goes to the supermarket, check out the double stuff Oreos. They are SUCH a rip-off. They look like the regular stuff Oreos. I remember when i was young, they really were DOUBLE STUFF. I am SO writing them a letter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Ok 'bout summs it up...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-3236306379287802302?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/3236306379287802302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=3236306379287802302&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3236306379287802302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3236306379287802302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-some-randomness.html' title='Just some Randomness...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5339810452790288692</id><published>2009-07-25T19:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T19:42:05.269-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, the end of a bad week....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#009900;"&gt;So the day started as usual. I went in to see my very terminal pt and he was...well very terminal. I knew he wasnt't going to make it out my shift, much less the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;His wife was staring at him, looking like she was just counting his breaths, which were minimal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I spent 35min on the phone with one of his sons this AM, and the guilt this poor guy has is phenominal. But , i let him talk it out. I knew where he was coming from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;At about 1:00 the Aide came and told me that he looked like he wasn't breathing. Sure enough he wasn't, I pulled the curtain and went and got the Charge Nurse to let her know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Don't you know, low and behold, his family walks in. Geeze....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;It was a very sad scene to say the least and i felt it all over again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;So i went over and hugged his wife, and started to cry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I contained myself, till i got to the nurses station, then i went into the back room and cried.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I felt so bad for his sons, they just missed him, but he wouldnt have known they was there anyway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;It just bought back a bunch of memories, and it wrecked my day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;But i came home and loved up my new hubby and smooched my kids, and had a bbq and a friend stopped by, and a few Mikes Hard Liquors later. I felt better. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Still sad, but better. Part of the job i guess. That Ice Cream truck is looking better and better....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5339810452790288692?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5339810452790288692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5339810452790288692&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5339810452790288692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5339810452790288692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/wow-end-of-bad-week.html' title='Wow, the end of a bad week....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-9064095952451875584</id><published>2009-07-24T15:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T16:06:22.095-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled....cuz i can't think of one.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#009900;"&gt;My day at work was ok yesterday until about 3pm.  One of the aides came running over and grabbed the charge nurse, b/c one of her residents stopped breathing. So we all ran in there to call a "code" on her. she is a vented resident, but very sweet and alert. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;when we walked in you could see that she was already gone, but we had to try with her. I started CPR after we got her in the bed. I cant believe how much harder it is to do it on a real person than an ANNIE doll. My wrist and arms were hurting last night from it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Unfortunately, she didnt make it, we couldnt revive her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I really felt bad for her Aide too, she was very upset. We all get so close and attatched to our residents which makes this job really sucky at times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I also have a resident that will probably not make it out the weekend. He is dying from Cancer and it just moved to his liver. He is at the stage where he isnt eating, and sleeping all the time. I just get flashbacks of mom and it breaks my heart. Also he and his wife share the same room. So she just sits and watches him. I just hope i'm not working when he goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Ugggg sometimes i wish i worked as an ice cream man/woman. where my job is to make people happy with my bells and wonderful ice cream...:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I just have one more thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Why in the hell is the Salsa so far away from the chips in BJ Wholesale club? I mean really. what else do you use it for but chips?? It should be there right next to them, not in the baking isle where i actually found it. I spent 15min walking around lookng for it, for the love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Stupid i say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Ok i'm done...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-9064095952451875584?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/9064095952451875584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=9064095952451875584&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/9064095952451875584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/9064095952451875584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/untitledcuz-i-cant-think-of-one.html' title='Untitled....cuz i can&apos;t think of one.'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4002647076451874645</id><published>2009-07-20T17:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T17:48:04.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why The First Day Back Stinks......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Well for starters, i have to say, i like my job. I just like being home more. :) With my family, for the summer. I'll work again in September.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;So my job consists of whiney, mostly vent dependent, alert and sometimes comatose, residents. Needless to say, give me the comatose anyday. Nothing is worse than a a vent dependant resident that is pissy and cant speak. Have you ever tried reading someones lips while you get yelled at?? Then asking them to repeat it, like you wanna get cursed out twice..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;So for some reason my men were all annoyed at something today. The women were cool (arent we always), but men in general whine when they arent feeling well, so being annoyed about something just adds to the mood. It could just be because i was back from vaca and they feeling comfortable bitching to me...who knows, but it is quite aggravating to say the least. It is my first day back from a great vaca, and i am spending the day listening to a pissy man complain that he wantes coffee instead of tea. Uggggg...bigger fish to fry dude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Annnywho, so i got up at 5am. Stinky reason number 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;I had to get S up at 5:50am and listen to her ramble the whole way to work (2)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Bad sleep, with wierd dreams about annoying residents (3)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Bad hair day (4)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Dealing with very lazy co-workers (5)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;However, i did get out on time, thats a plus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt; I just think that since i married for money, and i am now independently wealthy, i shouldnt have to work full time :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Just saying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;So tomorrow should be better, and i am looking forward to my day of on Friday. S is home with us on Friday, but i'll make due. Maybe i will try and talk the new hubby into letting me sleep in a little (hint hint honey)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Oh, and S starts her beginners dance class on Wed. Should be interesting, being she has no rhythm, and is like a bull in a china shop. Ill post a picture if i remember.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Thats all for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4002647076451874645?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4002647076451874645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4002647076451874645&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4002647076451874645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4002647076451874645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-first-day-back-stinks.html' title='Why The First Day Back Stinks......'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-3557527611014179732</id><published>2009-07-19T16:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T17:10:46.542-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last day of vaca...way too busy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Yesterday was my friend Tina's sons 5 yr olds birthday party. She also had a new baby 7 weeks ago, so i got to see her too. She is such a doll baby. As cute and beautiful and snuggly as she is, i really dont miss that phase much. when i look at baby clothes, i get an urge for a baby. But when i hold a real one, i kinda wanna sniff her and give it back, and i did. yeah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;So the party was fun, busy as usual. Tina is amazing, cuz even with a newborn she managed to cook all the food and make the specialized cake. Which was a bowling ball and pin (it was a bowling theme). The food was amazing as usual, the kids had a blast with everyone else. Just a longgggg day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Today i was suppose to go to breakfast and then Chuck E Cheese ,with S and some of her daycare friends. I baled on breakfast but did go to CC. I really hate that place. It is dirty, some of the games dont work, its loud, and boring for me. I swear she has rickets or polio or something from that place. It's a nurses nightmare..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;So we left there after about an hour or so, headed home to get ready to go to the sis pool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Even that place got on my nerves, Too many loud kids, some of the girls were trying to gang up on N. He handled it well, but one girl was able to dunk him and she was twice his age and size. Thats when i finally said something to her and told her not to dunk him again. They always have fun there, but i always leave with a headache.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;So now we are home and the hubby is cooking a bbq. Mmmmm. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;That about sums up my vaca. He says he likes having me around, and will miss me when i go back to work. Ditto. Can someone maybe talk him into me having the summer off too?? That would be great. Thanks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Moving On&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-3557527611014179732?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/3557527611014179732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=3557527611014179732&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3557527611014179732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3557527611014179732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/last-day-of-vacaway-too-busy.html' title='Last day of vaca...way too busy'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5340970959097756474</id><published>2009-07-18T06:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T07:06:07.241-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost over....vaca that is</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Yesterday was uneventful. I was looking forward to sending the kids to a sleep over at the sis but my niece was sick, and not feeling up to them. Kinda disappointed but it is what it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;So, i took a nap, ran some errands, went food shopping. They have this thing on Friday on Main Street called "Alive after five" They close down Main street and they have vendors and bands, DJ's and food. We were going to go but it looked like rain, so maye next week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;My honey bought us dinner from a mexican restaurant. It was good. No cooking is always good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;The kids played outside after dinner for a while. The girl has such a smart mouth, geeze i dont know what to do with her. She is constantly yelling at me. If B hears her he makes her go in her room for mouthing off. She was punished 3 times yesterday. Its gonna be a long summer for her if she keeps it up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Today we have a birthday party for my friend T's son. He's gonna be 5. I bought him some books for a present. I Love giving books to kids, its so important for them to read, that why my kids are so into books. I love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;So right now the girl is on her best behavior, she has been warned that there will be no party if she acts up. Although she has only been up 20 minutes. Hee Hee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;It should be fun, she loves going over there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Well all for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5340970959097756474?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5340970959097756474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5340970959097756474&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5340970959097756474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5340970959097756474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/almost-overvaca-that-is.html' title='Almost over....vaca that is'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-908867612580577465</id><published>2009-07-16T16:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T16:57:26.577-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopping day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So it is Thursday and the cleaning lady came today. (LOOOOOVE HEEERRRR). But, we had to leave the house, cuz she cant possibly work around us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;We brought the girl to daycare, then went to breakfast. We headed out to the Outlets for a little shopping. I needed sandals and the boy needs shorts. He is growing tooo tall, and tooo fast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So the Childrens Place was having a good sale, and we got a few prs of shorts for the boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I looked in a ton of stores for a pair of black sandals. Well apparently noone likes to make shoes in a wide width. All cute shoes in my size didnt fit. So aggravating. I finally found a pair in store number 175.....or maybe 4 or 5. B likes them as well so that is a plus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Oh i forgot to mention that i was doing this with a slight hangover. Lastnight, we went to a friend of B's bar. He worked the Tiki bar in a reataurant in Moriches, we had such a great time. We met a bunch of people we didnt know , but still had fun with. love that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So i had 3 drinks, but i must be quite the light weight, cuz i got very tippsy. (ok drunk), but it was really fun. I didnt do anything embarrasing, and B still loves me today so he must have had fun too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Anywho so far that about sums it up. B is taking a nap, bed late, up early. Poor baby, guess he couldnt keep up with me last night while i tied one on.  :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Tomorrow is a free day, no plans except that my sis is suppose to take the kids for a sleep over, which would be lovely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;As of right now, my niece is sick, so that may be canceled. Hope not...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-908867612580577465?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/908867612580577465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=908867612580577465&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/908867612580577465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/908867612580577465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/shopping-day.html' title='Shopping day...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-7520772367120554615</id><published>2009-07-15T08:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T08:33:43.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>VANS, BOATS AND BUSES oh my......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;That is what it took to get us to a day of fun at Foxwoods.  We got up at the "crack of dawn".(6am) I actually got to sleep an hour longer that i usually do on a work day. B, not too happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Lets just say, now he knows where S gets her chatter box ways in the AM (hee hee) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So we drive to Orient Point (the end) to the Sea Jet. A very cool, and fast ferry. It took about an hour with traffic. I have to say it was a beautiful drive.  If we weren't cursing out the idiots in front of us that WILLNOT go around the tractor carrying bales of hay in the middle of the road....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ahem....anyway, it was a very beautiful drive through the wine section. That by 7am, i wanted to stop for a taste :0&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;We got to the Sea Jet with time to spare. It only takes about 40-45min to get to CT on that thing. It was nice, but packed. I think we were the youngest ones on it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;When we got to CT, we then step off the  docks and walked on the Coach Bus. (Not to be confused with the COACH bags that i obsess over. Which BTW they DONOT give you when you get on the bus sigh...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So 30 min later we finally end up in Foxwoods. Huge beautiful Hotel, no pixs. loser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;With the tix for the Sea Jet, we got 2 tix for the game Keno. Don't know what the game is but we one $7 so WAHOO! I'll play it. And also tix for the Buffet. Very nice and Very good food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So we walked around a little and found the Poker table for B. I let him go have fun, and I walked around aimlessly for a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I then look up and Low and Behold i ran into a Panera Bread....yea me. I had coffee and a cinnamon roll, in my glory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So i left there and headed into the BINGO room. Yes i morphed into an 80yr old woman and walked in. I swear, when i walked through the door, my gait slowed down, i became hunched over, and i shuffled when i walked. I think my hair turned that grey/blue as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;True story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So i paid my $10 and sat down. Oh, i had to buy those stamp bottles too, to mark my card.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I did have fun though, after one of the women working the place, came over to me to explain some things. I guess i looked a little confused. I was, but once i figured it out it was fun. I came 1 number away from winning in 2 games.. I could have won $300. Uggggg i HATE bingo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So B called and i left. We went to the Buffet for lunch, then walked our lunch off around the place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;They have alot of little shops to go into...see the price...and walk out of.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;We had to be back to bus by 4. So we took the  long treck back home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;We really had a good time. We needed some alone time, and i realized how much i missed doing things with him, he is alot of fun. We didnt loose much money, ate a good lunch and spent some quality time together. Can't get much better than that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-7520772367120554615?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/7520772367120554615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=7520772367120554615&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7520772367120554615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/7520772367120554615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/vans-boats-and-buses-oh-my.html' title='VANS, BOATS AND BUSES oh my......'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-3076121210251388637</id><published>2009-07-13T19:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T20:00:29.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2 and still going strong....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#cc0000;"&gt;So this is my 2nd day of vaca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Today I didnt do too much. Got up and brought the girl to school then came home and brought the boy to camp. Went to breakfast with the hubby. ( still feels wierd saying that. like it but wierd)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;We went to Loews to get a plant holder. The plant i got from my moms funeral, is still alive. It has outgrown the planter it was in. Frankly, i can't believe that it is still alive. So we got a big white plant holder and some soil. I left it outside in the back while i relaxed and drank coffee. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;He called me a little while later and had me go out to the back, and i saw he replanted for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;So sweet... Looks really good too, for a guy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;We also had the guy over that cleaned our back yard, to paint the front porch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;That didnt require me to move, thank goodness, but he WAS here. The sander was annoying though, loud..interupted my quiet time. Sigh....can't have it all right??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Tomorrow should be fun. we are going to Foxwoods to gamble and eat etc.... and just have some fun time together. Other than worrying about the kids, it should be a good time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Well, thats all for now.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-3076121210251388637?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/3076121210251388637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=3076121210251388637&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3076121210251388637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3076121210251388637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/day-2-and-still-going-strong.html' title='Day 2 and still going strong....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5699534579623498416</id><published>2009-07-12T19:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T19:36:03.725-05:00</updated><title type='text'>VACA BABY!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;YUp, i start vaca this week. Well, i guess technically it started on Saturday. But the kids were home with me, so... really not a vaca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I am looking forward to being off from work where noone dies and noone goes to the ER sick. Ok?? I just wanna be home with the days to myself and nothing to do but breath. (and probably laundry)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I am going to try and blog each night about my fabulous, fun-filled, delicious day on vaca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Today, we decided to go to my sisters pool. B was on the fence most of the morning. He had stuff to do ie: mow the lawn, get paint for the guy that is coming to paint the porch tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;But he chose to come to the pool for a family day. I am glad he did. The kids had a blast, like always.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;S has taught herself to swim in 2 days. She started in our little blowup pool and now does it in my sis pool at her complex. She is fearless. Scary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;We then had a bbq, and my sis came over. She is a little down cuz her vaca is ending today. MInes just begining WAHOO!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Anywho. I have had to start this a few times, cuz i had a cocktail for the start of vaca, and i am a little tipsy at the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I should just leave what i actually type. Its quite comical, i must say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;OK enough about me rubbing it in, and enjoy your week all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5699534579623498416?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5699534579623498416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5699534579623498416&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5699534579623498416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5699534579623498416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/vaca-baby.html' title='VACA BABY!!!'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6398910793237172579</id><published>2009-07-08T17:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T17:17:16.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Fun Fun night...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Let me just tell you what my favorite part of last night was...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I think it was finally being in a wonderful deep sleep and being startled awake by a HUGE crack of thunder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Then counting to 5 before i hear my 4 yr old scream at the top of her lungs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Oh BTW it was 1:30am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Then she insisted that i sleep in her bed while the thunderstorm persisted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;The  BEST thing about that ,is that she has a great big air conditioner in her room that she REFUSES to put on because its "too noisy mommy".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;So while this thunderstorm continues S was so close to me, i thought she was going to climb back in. So now we are under a comforter, in a Sauna ,that is her room, with no air on or window open. (thunder remember?) with her elbom in my neck cuz she HAD to have her fingers in her ears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Wow that was a special, fun night for me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Thanks Mother Nature. (you bitch)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6398910793237172579?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6398910793237172579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6398910793237172579&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6398910793237172579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6398910793237172579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-fun-fun-night.html' title='My Fun Fun night...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6194821281319178628</id><published>2009-07-05T11:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T12:20:32.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yea we got married......</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SlDbgg5yS9I/AAAAAAAAAU0/oHA7eAWwZJQ/s1600-h/IMG_9581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355021308578122706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SlDbgg5yS9I/AAAAAAAAAU0/oHA7eAWwZJQ/s200/IMG_9581.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;So we got married.. yea i know we were supposed to be taking it slow, but when you know, you know right?? No, im not pregnant like my sis-in-law suggested. ( she apparently thought it was to fast). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;We decided to have a BBQ when my sis -in-law from Texas came here for a visit. She happened to mention that her husband is a minister, which i already knew. But she put a little bug in my ear about him being able to preform ceremony's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Hmmm everyone will be here anyway for the bbq, so why not?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;We planned it all hush hush. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;I didnt want anyone to feel that they had to get us anything, or if they&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt; even had to think about it b/c its the 2nd marriage. ( to the same person at that.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;So that is why i wanted to keep it a secret. and i think i did pretty good too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Although i blabbed to everyone at work, cuz they weren't coming so it was cool. That relieved some of my "OMG i HAVE to tell someone" urge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;C my bro in law did a fabulous job with the whole ceremony. I know he worried about it, b/c we were his first. I felt so honored that he would practice on us :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;when we told everyone to come outside so we could get married, their faces were priceless. Wish i had my camera then. Some didn't believe us either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Afterwards we went to the beach w/D and Aunt V to take pictures. We got some great shots. Thanks D you rock :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;The kids were great. although S wanted me to throw the flowers, not sure why. After the ceremony she was holding some flowers and made me follow her around the yard as she plucked off the pedals and threw them on the ground. Future flower girl in the making.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;I think everyone had fun, there was alot of food and drinks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Although some family members behavior left much to be desired, and i was actually quite suprised. Not sure why i was surprised, but i wont get into it here. There is no point, it will never change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;So i had a great time, it was quick and painless, and my life is back to where it was meant to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;To my Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;We have been through our share of ups and downs. In my wildest dreams did I ever think that we could be at this place once again, and that i could love you more now than the first time i gave you my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;You are my heart, my soul, my love and my bestfriend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;I am a better woman for having you in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Thank you for loving me....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;To many many years of happiness for us and our family. xoo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6194821281319178628?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6194821281319178628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6194821281319178628&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6194821281319178628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6194821281319178628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/07/so-we-got-married.html' title='Yea we got married......'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SlDbgg5yS9I/AAAAAAAAAU0/oHA7eAWwZJQ/s72-c/IMG_9581.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5220871264733972609</id><published>2009-06-28T08:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T08:48:13.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pixs of N....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Skd0cG3W0DI/AAAAAAAAAUk/YUzvO091QKU/s1600-h/101_0426.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352374708381077554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Skd0cG3W0DI/AAAAAAAAAUk/YUzvO091QKU/s200/101_0426.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Skd0GqAoqxI/AAAAAAAAAUc/bK1bKhYmjN4/s1600-h/101_0429.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352374339858115346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Skd0GqAoqxI/AAAAAAAAAUc/bK1bKhYmjN4/s200/101_0429.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Skdz-ZyJN6I/AAAAAAAAAUU/rY24X2kshF8/s1600-h/101_0427.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352374198063413154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Skdz-ZyJN6I/AAAAAAAAAUU/rY24X2kshF8/s200/101_0427.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Daddy helping him cut his cake&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SkdzyIAj60I/AAAAAAAAAUM/sqxYAoLMjs4/s1600-h/101_0428.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352373987133614914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SkdzyIAj60I/AAAAAAAAAUM/sqxYAoLMjs4/s200/101_0428.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SkdznNLNDdI/AAAAAAAAAUE/ntwzzzyQ3nw/s1600-h/101_0431.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352373799541870034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SkdznNLNDdI/AAAAAAAAAUE/ntwzzzyQ3nw/s200/101_0431.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;His Fav toys from CARS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5220871264733972609?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5220871264733972609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5220871264733972609&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5220871264733972609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5220871264733972609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/06/pixs-of-n.html' title='Pixs of N....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Skd0cG3W0DI/AAAAAAAAAUk/YUzvO091QKU/s72-c/101_0426.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6223780536994994113</id><published>2009-06-28T07:34:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T08:20:32.547-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fathers Day, S and N</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SkdnS0eSHPI/AAAAAAAAATM/-CaTpfP-Bhg/s1600-h/101_0411.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352360255174089970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SkdnS0eSHPI/AAAAAAAAATM/-CaTpfP-Bhg/s200/101_0411.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; my bro (who thinks he's my father), my actual father, and my baby daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Ok so I flaked on the Fathers Day post. Didn't mean to, just happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;So it was good i think for B. For my dad it was probably sad, but he really didnt show it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I let him sleep late, then i made a big breakfast for both of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I gave B the books and CD i got him ( i mean the kids got him). He didnt expect anything b/c he got himself the big screen TV. I feel that the TV was a gift for himself, this was from the kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Anyway, we just hung out the day. He hung out outside and read the paper, then watched the US OPEN on TV. I made him baked Ziti for dinner at his request. My sis came over and had dinner and my sis-in-law bought a cake for all the fathers. Nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I think he had a nice relaxing day, I asked him if there was anything else i could have done for him. He said "Stop the rain" Sorry. tried. just couldnt do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;To my Honey: I am so happy and gratetul you are back in my life, where you belong. You are a wonderful father and man, and our son will be amazing if he turns out to be half the father you are. I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff6600;"&gt;So on Thursday S daycare had a "preschool graduation". S isn't going to kindergarten (darn) but she was a part of the ceremony because she lead the graduates. She was in the front holding a flag. She was all dressed up and her hair was done. She practiced for weeks and she was so excited! She did a gre&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Skdo8uvJWaI/AAAAAAAAATU/eW4aKIzBhoY/s1600-h/101_0418.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352362074700339618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Skdo8uvJWaI/AAAAAAAAATU/eW4aKIzBhoY/s200/101_0418.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;at job. I had to remind her though, that she wasnt actually graduating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;They sang songs, and the teachers read poems. I cried a little and said "geeze what am i going to do when she actually graduates next yr?" She cried when the kids gave roses to their moms, cuz she didnt have one for me. it was so sad. She kept saying "I wanna give a rose to my mommy!!" I told her that she wasn't graduating so i didnt getr a rose. I guess cause she was in the ceremony she thought she could give me one. She did have a great time! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff6600;"&gt;On Friday, N had his last day of Kindergarten. It was so bittersweet to me. My baby boy is going into 1st grade!!! OMG. He is so happy to be done with school, and he is looking forward to going to 1st grade, but he actually misses school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Oh, his little girlfriend Alexia moved to a new house so she wont be in his school next yr. I told him on the playground on Friday. Well, his reaction blew me away! He cried, really truly cried. Hard. I told him to give her a hug, he did, and she had no reaction at all. (bitch). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I am sure this will be the first of many times he will have his heart broken, but he had my heart aching for him. He even cried in the car on the way to lunch. Yikes... I told him that we will see her over the summer. But honestly i doubt we will. She moved far away, but we will see. He hasn't asked about her since then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;So after dinner i got him a cake and i had bought him characters from the CARS movie, that he wanted for graduating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Some may say" so what its not a big deal its just kindergarten" Well ask his father if its a big deal, being he only made it to May when he was in kindergarten. True story. ask him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;So my little man made it, it was rough going but well worth the wait. He is sooo unbelievably smart, and social and just so great. (unless S is annoying the crap outta him then not so great).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6223780536994994113?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6223780536994994113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6223780536994994113&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6223780536994994113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6223780536994994113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/06/fathers-day-s-and-n.html' title='Fathers Day, S and N'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SkdnS0eSHPI/AAAAAAAAATM/-CaTpfP-Bhg/s72-c/101_0411.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-1978445730793897592</id><published>2009-06-03T09:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T09:19:40.584-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it Me??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sometimes i feel that i am too Judgemental.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I hate being judged, especially at first glance, so why do i do it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;The other day at the park there was a girl, about 10 maybe. She was a little overweight for her age, but I am sure it was baby weight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;She looked a little like S with blonde hair and blue eyes and a little tall for her age.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Look again. Yikes!! She is walking around the park, eating an entire bag of chips. Not the small snack size, the big bag that i would break out at a BBQ to SHARE.  Hmmm so my mind goes to this: "wow, she really shouldn't be eating all of that at her weight. Does her mom know she is eating the whole bag?? If i dont watch it, in 6 yrs that could be S." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Swear. That was my thought process.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Then i felt bad, cuz she could easily have a thyroid problem that makes her that weight, and that may be all her family could afford for her to eat for the WHOLE day and maybe that was her lunch portion.....or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;So this AM i took N to school (which i love doing BTW)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I saw this little girl on the swings that is about 2 (i know this cuz i see her mom all the time and hear her talking)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;She was eating Doritos, small bag, mind you. But it was 9am! HuH? is it just me or dont people know that Doritos is technically junk food, although it should be a food group of their own. (Mmmmm Doritos..)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;But maybe it IS just me and i am too judgemental of other peoples parenting skills. Lord, know mine suck every now and then. And she was a girl, and we all know that sometimes you just have to give in....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;(ie: Dk brown sweater dress, black thick stockings, and pink sparkle shoes to school.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Anyway, i guess that is just something i have to work on..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;See ya...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-1978445730793897592?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/1978445730793897592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=1978445730793897592&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1978445730793897592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/1978445730793897592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/06/is-it-me.html' title='Is it Me??'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-6694867723730653407</id><published>2009-06-01T09:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T09:55:05.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Words of Mine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Dear S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;My wonderful 4 yr old, you are beautiful, smart, funny and the love of my life. So answer me this? Why the Hell can't you sleep through the night?? Why Oh Why , when mommy has to work in the AM you feel the need to get up in the middle of the night. Not once, but twice?? Ugghghg. I am very sleep deprived, and it leads me to the impatience that i show you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Little girl, i so hope this is a phase that ends soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Love you xxoo Mommy.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Dear Brain of Mine,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;You did it again. We have spoke about this, numerous times and it is getting old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Please donot start to throbbbbb and ache and give me the urge to shove a fork in my eye to put myself out of my own misery. ON A WORK DAY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Sigh....one day you will listen. I have a lot less stress in my life and there is no reason for you to just pop up, so stop it please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Thanks again &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Your body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Dear Love of MIne,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Thank you for being you, and loving me unconditionally. You are the love of my life, my best friend, my rock and my soul mate (yes i believe in those). Even though we lost a few years, you have made them up 10 fold with the love and adoration you show me daily. I love and appreciate you always and forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Love ME xxoo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Dear MOM,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I miss you terribly. Lou's B-day came and went and it was not the same without you being here. Nothing ever will again. Sometimes i still cant believe you are gone, and i feel your near. I wish you were here to see our family together again. I know how upset you were when we weren't. We are very happy now, and i feel like you are here watching over us. I love you mommy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Love S-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;P.S. Dad is doing OK. I'm keeping an eye on him :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-6694867723730653407?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/6694867723730653407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=6694867723730653407&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6694867723730653407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/6694867723730653407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/06/few-words-of-mine.html' title='A Few Words of Mine'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-5231671510509316495</id><published>2009-05-29T07:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T07:27:35.352-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Quoteable Quotes"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:#000000;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;-"So my DADDY is my MOMMY'S BOYFRIEND!!???" (uhh yeah)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;N- "Y&lt;/strong&gt;our going to see Grandma at the Cemetary? But she's in Heaven. Are you going to use a telescope?" (Hee hee, i wish)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;S-&lt;/strong&gt; "Who are you?" Im the bus driver. "WHY DID YOU HIT MY MOMMY!!!" ( yeah!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;S- "Mommy what do you wanna be when you growup?" (hmmm good question)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;"I think you should be a butterfly, thats pretty." ( me too)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;"I'm gonna be a ballerina rockstar!!" (picture that. and she will too!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-5231671510509316495?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/5231671510509316495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=5231671510509316495&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5231671510509316495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/5231671510509316495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/05/quoteable-quotes.html' title='&quot;Quoteable Quotes&quot;'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-9022949210738660956</id><published>2009-05-24T06:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T07:06:05.107-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Cool New Stuff...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3dOGQ6cI/AAAAAAAAAS0/szfgwCRm_II/s1600-h/101_0301.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339359808364538306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3dOGQ6cI/AAAAAAAAAS0/szfgwCRm_II/s200/101_0301.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My new LOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3GDGr9zI/AAAAAAAAASs/NBgqgRzAg1Y/s1600-h/101_0300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339359410276529970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3GDGr9zI/AAAAAAAAASs/NBgqgRzAg1Y/s200/101_0300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; New TV, New Couch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3Fxu_gnI/AAAAAAAAASk/HcHMSaDMYfs/s1600-h/101_0299.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339359405613744754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3Fxu_gnI/AAAAAAAAASk/HcHMSaDMYfs/s200/101_0299.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our new Living Room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3Fc5VrwI/AAAAAAAAASc/KgQBIfwNx6A/s1600-h/101_0296.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339359400019996418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3Fc5VrwI/AAAAAAAAASc/KgQBIfwNx6A/s200/101_0296.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3FFi2gVI/AAAAAAAAASU/AoOBDIqIe2E/s1600-h/101_0295.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339359393751662930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3FFi2gVI/AAAAAAAAASU/AoOBDIqIe2E/s200/101_0295.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old TV area&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3E_4fkhI/AAAAAAAAASM/X-NBJE5Jp4I/s1600-h/101_0294.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339359392231821842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3E_4fkhI/AAAAAAAAASM/X-NBJE5Jp4I/s200/101_0294.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Old Living Room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;So on the Wed. after the accident, we went and got a rental car. Then we decided to go to PC Richards and "look" at Big screen TV's that he desperately needed. (Deserved) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Well, let me just say, when this man goes to buy something, it is an experience ALL should witness at one time in your life. It is actually like a dance. The price is this....but what can you do for ME? Well this is what i can lower it to......Well, that is for regular people...what can you do for ME?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;It is actually quite comical and i usually leave there feeling bad for the salesman, but with cool stuff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Well, it happened again, and i got a fridge out of the deal. Wahoo!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;We left with a Big Screen TV, with a surround sound system that plays CD's, and a BlueRay player, a TV stand, which i love, and of course my new Fridge (ahhh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;We also had ordered a couch in March that was being delivered yesterday. So we figured that we will have it all come on Saturday. I was off from work so it was convienient. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Well the couch came first, then when they were in the process of bringing that in, the fridge called and was 10 min away. AHHHH!!! Had to clean out the old fridge and freezer. Yikes, was hoping for a little more time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;But Alas, it all worked out and i LOVE LOVE LOVE my new fridge. I know all about the fingerprints i'm going to get, but for the price we got it for i can afford a cleaning lady to clean it. (Im just kidding)&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; no im not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Later on the TV came and the very informative guys put everything together and gave us a lesson on how to work it. (i think i took a nap at that point) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;But N wanted to play Wii a little while ago and i was able to accomadate. HA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;So sitting in our new living room last night with my kids and wonderful Man of my life, it felt like a home. All cozy and love all around. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Loving It...Moving on in the right direction&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-9022949210738660956?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/9022949210738660956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=9022949210738660956&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/9022949210738660956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/9022949210738660956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/05/our-cool-new-stuff.html' title='Our Cool New Stuff...'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/Shk3dOGQ6cI/AAAAAAAAAS0/szfgwCRm_II/s72-c/101_0301.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-4182085816401802507</id><published>2009-05-23T06:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T07:01:34.912-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting hit by a BUS is just NO fun....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;So you know when you watch a movie and they show when someone is close to death, their life flashes before their eyes??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Yeah, well that didn't happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;In fact I lost all memory at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I remember nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Nadda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Zilch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;And its freaking me out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Maybe that means that i wasn't that close to death, which is a little reassuring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;But getting hit by a bus, isn't as fun as it sounds... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I was drivng down the road going home, minding my own business, and all i remember is hearing a loud crunching noise, and seeing yellow coming into my car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Although it never actually got in my car. It felt like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;We were passing eachother on a very narrow road. I think he swerved and the tail end of him ( the bus) got my car. My front end of the drivers side, end mirror and glass shattering into the car. It was all very surreal, and like a movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;He told me that I swerved into him, however wouldn't I hit him head on?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Anyway...S looked terrified with her hands over her ears, after we finally stopped. She saw that i was ok, and she was too, so she only cried for a second. I was so proud of her. If it was my son, he would still be crying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;A nice woman came and helped me out of the car, cuz the door was smashed in and i couldn't open it myself. She brushed the glass off of me, there was ALOT of glass and i didnt have a scratch on me. Amazingly enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I got S out of the car, she had a little glass on her, but she was fine too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;She talked to the cops when they came over, and anyone else that would listen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;When B got there, i was hysterical. I realized that i had NO IDEA what happened and it really scared me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Of course i figured, i had a seizure, and passed out for a second. Which didnt happen. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I dont think&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; But it still scared me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;The next day I took off from work and we went and got my &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;itty bitty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; rental car. I call it the Fred Flinstone car cuz it is like I am sitting on the ground when i drive it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;The shop said that it will take 10 days to fix, and there was $6450 worth of damage. Yeah that felt about right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Of course i didnt take any pictures of my car. Should of, but didnt have my camera and i dont think the cops would have appreciated sitting with my car while i ran to get it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;So when I told one of my friends what happened, i told her that i took a different exit that day. I still till this day don't know why i took that exit. I NEVER do,becasue there are too many stop signs to get to my house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;She said maybe i did because i dont know what was waiting for me at my normal exit. Hmmmm. Maybe i was destined to get in an accident that day and there is less traffic on the exit that i took, and subconsiously i knew that. Or mom was telling me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Either way, it happened, i was definately watched over &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thanks Mom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; and we will all move on..safe....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-4182085816401802507?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/4182085816401802507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=4182085816401802507&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4182085816401802507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/4182085816401802507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/05/getting-hit-by-bus-is-just-no-fun.html' title='Getting hit by a BUS is just NO fun....'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37376777.post-3750075676516813711</id><published>2009-05-12T08:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T09:08:40.047-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mothers Day'/><title type='text'>My Bitter Sweet Mothers Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SgmCbyMIVvI/AAAAAAAAASE/gwTaRXmEbSA/s1600-h/101_0292.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334938647437793010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SgmCbyMIVvI/AAAAAAAAASE/gwTaRXmEbSA/s200/101_0292.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SgmCb1OcWOI/AAAAAAAAAR8/80gybCzWMiQ/s1600-h/101_0290.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334938648252799202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SgmCb1OcWOI/AAAAAAAAAR8/80gybCzWMiQ/s200/101_0290.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SgmCbt6-nCI/AAAAAAAAAR0/kpZWIy0AwsU/s1600-h/101_0289.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334938646292110370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SgmCbt6-nCI/AAAAAAAAAR0/kpZWIy0AwsU/s200/101_0289.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;So my mothers day was Bitter Sweet for obvious reasons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;The day started out wonderfully, I got to sleep till 9am, well actually however long i wanted , but I woke at 9. It was FABULOUS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Then the love of my life asked what i wanted for breakfast. "Anything I wanted" Hmmmmm anything huh??? Well, I just got a muffin. I wanted to start easy on him being he had to spend most of the day with my family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;OH OH, let me back track a minute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;My real day started on Saturday night, with the most AMAZING gift from my honey. A gorgeous, beautiful, brand new it almost glowed.....COACH bag.....I named her ANGELINA cuz she is beautiful and looks like an ANGELINA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;(to quote my dad "it looks like a bag to me.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Ok so back to the day. So after breakfast, The family went to the cemetary. When we got back we went to J&amp;amp;R Steak house for lunch. It was us and my dad. NOone else went. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;That is when my daughter turned into a BEAST. Literally, transformed right in front of our eyes. UGGHHGG! In her defense, she was tired, because it was her nap time. But for crying out loud girl, give mama a break, it IS Mothers DAy, and i was mothering my Ass off, and beating hers at the same time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;She was whiny to begin with b/c it took forever to get seated and they were hungry. Understandable. Not helpful though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;During dinner she was getting bored, which led to more whining, and not sitting still.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;She cried and screamed b/c she couldn't get the chocolate lollypop that I recieved from the restaurant. She screamed the whole way home. Thankfully was only 5min. When we got home she wanted to go on the trampoline which wasn't happening. She freaked! I literally carried/dragged her up the stairs. When we got to the top she took off down them again. This happened 2 times before i picked her up, put her in the bed, as she continued to scream and kick. I then spanked her again. B then came in and yelled at her and that quieted her down. (she apparently likes to listen to him).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Man i was spent!! I never saw such a meltdown from her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;She woke from her nap and came downstairs and started flipping out b/c B was mowing the grass and she hates that noise. I couldnt get her to stop whining and screaming, even when he was finished, so that led to another spanking and her being sent to her room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Man, what is WRONG with that child, (besides the fact she is a 4yr old girl)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;I told B that i really want to like her today, but she is making it very difficult to do that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;So when she finally came to her senses, they went out to play, and the night ended very good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Exhausting, but good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;And as bitter sweet as it was, i realize that i LOVE my family with all my heart. ALL of them. I will be forever grateful that we were ONE family on Mothers Day, when i needed it the most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;B is the most amazing man, and i love him more everyday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;I hope everyone had a great day as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37376777-3750075676516813711?l=hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/feeds/3750075676516813711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37376777&amp;postID=3750075676516813711&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3750075676516813711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37376777/posts/default/3750075676516813711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hopingtomoveon.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-bitter-sweet-mothers-day.html' title='My Bitter Sweet Mothers Day'/><author><name>Stacy O</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1H16ZtE-YwE/SgmCbyMIVvI/AAAAAAAAASE/gwTaRXmEbSA/s72-c/101_0292.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
