tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54167656529077068922024-03-14T11:14:37.950-05:00My Crazy LifeDonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-3027391760617862852011-10-07T22:12:00.002-05:002011-10-10T16:33:59.197-05:00Significance of Number 3In the past sixteen hours there has been the birth of an idea, a plot, A PLAN. This is a plan that involves me. A plan that involves my passion for girls who have survived the sex trafficking industry. A plan that involves a short term mission trip. A plan that, if it comes to fruition, I will be able to mark something off of my bucket list. <br />
<br />
As I am writing these words, a thought strikes me...This is much bigger than me! It's much bigger than me marking something off of my TO DO list. This is about God and what His perfect will is for my life!<br />
<br />
God started a work in me a couple of years ago. It was really after Mike and I divorced two years ago. I'll spare you all the details, and hit the highlights instead. After our divorce was final I started to notice that my eyes were drawn to men with darker skin. It seemed that the ones I found (and still find) "oh, so hot", were Indian men. There is no rhyme or reason for this. But I like it. I embrace it. It's different from everything I've ever known. There have been a few casual dates with these "brown boys" and I enjoyed my time with them. Well, except for with the Chef, Vijay. He became controlling after one week. And my personality is not one that compliments controlling very well! He sucked the life outta me!<br />
<br />
What I believe has really been happening within me is not what I like in a man, but more of a stratigic move for me to learn more about myself. Learn about the country of India. Learn about their economy. Learn about their history. Learn about their culture.<br />
<br />
Anywho...<br />
During the past couple of years I have also learned that I have a passion for victims of sex and human trafficking victims. I've read several places that sex trafficking is the third most profitable organized crime industry, but can't actually find the source of this. But if there is ANY truth to this claim... How Sad!! For some of the facts on how prevalent this problem is click <a href="http://www.iast.net/thefacts.htm">here</a> or <a href="http://www.buzzle.com/articles/facts-about-human-trafficking.html">here</a> . I just want to cry out all of the things that is wrong with this, and be explicit in everything I would attempt to inflict upon someone if it was one of my children who fell victim to this nameless, faceless crime! However, since I'm with holding the details, I won't. This passion runs deep and I'm not sure why. My childhood was fairly normal. What ever THAT means. So, why me God? Why THIS passion? Why now?<br />
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At the beginning of the year, I attempted to make contact with some people who could direct me in how I could help. But the doors were shut in my face. Quietly my heart cried out, "But Lord...I feel like you are the one who birthed this passion within me! What am I suppose to do?" To which I believe the response was, "Wait...Pray..." And so I have.<br />
<br />
NOW (very emphatic and dramatic)... A mission trip....to where? India?<br />
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I just have to tell you the significance of the number 3. Every time I feel the urging of the Lord it is always confirmed in three's. That may actually be in the Bible somewhere, I'm not sure. (note to self: look that up)<br />
<br />
So....<br />
<br />
Number One and creation of THE PLAN: Last night I received and e-mail from my friend Kylie. The organization that she introduced me to, <a href="http://asourown.org/">As Our Own</a>, has a home and school where girls from the ages of 5-20 have been rescued from the red light district in India. And they will be sending a group over there next summer.<br />
What?!?<br />
<br />
Number Two: Then, I get home last night and read a chapter in a book called Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist. Guess what she wrote about in that very chapter. A mission trip.<br />
What?!? What?!?<br />
<br />
AND Number Three: NOW TODAY...I was casually scrolling through some blogs and came across my friends sister. What was her last post about? A mission trip!<br />
<br />
What, What, What the heck is going on here?<br />
<br />
There are so many thoughts curving, running, and rocking through my noggin right now.<br />
<ul><li> I don't have the money</li>
<li>Is this why You made me wait and told me to pray?</li>
<li>But God...</li>
<li>You were the one who gave me the desire to go on a mission trip</li>
<li>I'm not well versed on Bible verses</li>
<li>I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength Phil 4:13</li>
</ul>Okay, I just had to laugh. Earlier when I was writing out all of these things, I wrote them in this exact order. Notice what the last two say. Ironic? No, I'm sure God was very intentional in the way I wrote this. <br />
<ul><li>Is this for real or am I making it up in my head?</li>
<li>I must pray over this</li>
<li>How will I raise funds</li>
<li>What, God? Me? </li>
<li>But you know I wanted to go to Costa Rica on a mission trip.</li>
<li>Your kingdom come, Your will be done</li>
<li>I am stronger than I think I am</li>
<li>Really, I just wanted to run a half marathon. That's a miracle in itself! </li>
<li>Guess I'll need to get a Malaria medication, right?</li>
</ul>Will I really do this? Will I really go to India? I'll stay cautiously optimistic and excited about going, in hopes that it will all work out!Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-74909036260227612472011-10-04T01:38:00.002-05:002011-10-04T08:55:51.619-05:00LETTERS TO BOSSES<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After working the past three days (Fri, Sat, and Sun) I have a couple of issues that I am concerned about. I know that some of these areas of concern are already being looked at by upper management, but I would still like to put in my two cents. And feel free to share this e-mail to whomever it is relevant to. </div><div class="MsoNormal">On being a charge therapist – After this past weekend, I’m really not interested in filling this particular role as the work load stands now. When we are staffed accordingly, I will be more than pleased to assist in being charge therapist again. I love helping my co-workers and have said before, I do not mind pushing a vent all over the hospital when someone calls me and needs one right away! As you know, on Sunday, I was taking care of the patient on 3 North ICU who is on HFOV, had my own ICU duties on 3 Truett, covering Roberts PACU, on Rapid Response Team, and charge therapist. This is extremely overwhelming! The quality of patient care I gave was not my standard of care. And there were numerous treatments I marked as not done due to “therapist unavailable”. There was no one else to call on, as all ten of us on staff Sunday could not be spread any thinner. There is a safety issue here, not only for the patients but for us as teammates. From my observation, when there is plenty of staff during the week, the charge/RRT therapist usually does not have an area to cover. This should be across the board. I would also like to see the charge therapist be compensated monetarily for the role they fill (not clinical ladder). As far as scheduling, maybe it would be beneficial to have one person on Saturday and one on Sunday, instead of being in charge the whole weekend. Just a suggestion and I’m not sure how the other therapist would feel about this. </div><div class="MsoNormal">On Staffing – Simply put, we do not have enough on the weekends! I do understand the need to cut back on hours for the therapists who work over a 60 hour week on a regular basis, and I agree with that being dangerous. However, these are the therapist who would pick up a shift here and there to help the TDA staff out. And as I previously stated, I believe it’s a safety issue the way we are understaffed presently. I have several solutions that would work in my mind. One being that the straight PRN staff we currently have (as small as it is) is used as just that. As it stands now, these therapist sign up for shifts Monday through Friday, and then are unavailable when you ask them to work on Saturday and Sunday. Another option would be to have our ICU therapist rotate mandatory on-call and be compensated accordingly when called upon to work. Or maybe hiring more PRN staff and once our FTE schedule is complete, calling them with the options of dates to work. This would also help with the weekend FTE’s who are unable to pick up extra shifts during the week because it is fully staffed by PRN staff. One thing I would like to have cleared up is this, when I am in charge on the weekend, is it my responsibility to find staff? When I don’t work on Friday’s, I don’t know who has called in or who’s on FMLA, or who’s off on PTO and if anyone has found a replacement. This is one area I need clarification. I’m not always available to stop and make phone calls to find staff for the weekend if I am at home taking care of kids and such. </div><div class="MsoNormal">On HFOV’s – Where can I find the policy and procedure on the HFOV? I looked several places and can’t find anything. Maybe it’s because I’m trying to read it from home, maybe it’s due to the new policy and procedure library, but I don’t know where to look. Is it in the policy that a therapist must be available in that ICU at all times? Anyway, you know and I know that everyone has been in serviced on the HFOV. We had three running this past weekend. Just because someone has been in serviced does not mean they can run a HFOV. As I have said before, if there is a HFOV on 4North and I need to train someone or even move to a different ICU for other therapist to become more familiar with this intimidating machine, then I will do so. The TDA staff needs more exposure and hands on, but basically this also boils down to a staffing issue. We don’t have the staff to pull someone and train them on the HFOV therefore Becky and I will continue to be the ones running them. And that’s fine with me, I like taking care of these critical patients. But we won’t always be here. All of this to say that this was another issue raised over the weekend. And in fact if the policy does state a therapist must be present on the unit at all times, then again, we have a safety issue, because this simply could not happen this past weekend.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now, for the miscellaneous questions and concerns – Why is an ICU therapist covering the comprehensive care portion of 3 Truett? I can see where this may be a non-issue during the week, but on the weekend it would be very beneficial for comp care to cover this area. Consider it a trickle down of sorts. We take on the responsibility of BHVH and they take on the responsibility of 3 Truett. Checklist…I’m a rule follower, so I will be doing this mandatory check list, but I have to tell you that between the computer charting and the checklist and other things that are “mandatory”, we are stretched too thin as therapist. Actual patient care is going down the drain. And it doesn’t matter how many oral care protocols you have in place, or ventilator weaning protocols, or even VAP protocols…when it comes down to it we need to be able to take care of the patients and quit checking so many boxes. I also think there needs to be a reminder sent out to the ICU therapist about the re-taping schedule. There should not be any reason for a nurse to stop me on Sunday October 2 and say “Will you re-tape this patient? The date on the old tape says Sept 29!” I mean, come on friends. We are adults. The nursing staff should not remind us to do our JOB. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Thank you for letting me vent my concerns and feelings!</div><div class="MsoNormal">See you Saturday, </div><div class="MsoNormal">Dona</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
And there you have it! My frustrations in a nutshell from this past weekend at work and the e-mail that addresses them sent to my supervisor and manager. Will anything change? Probably not, but we'll see.<br />
<br />
</div>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-64807201484125485612011-09-21T21:51:00.000-05:002011-09-21T21:51:49.909-05:00The PlatformGive me a platform and let me vent!<br />
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I am mad, frustrated, irritated, and feel like I'm hog tied because I can't do a dang thing about it! Of course it has to do with one of the little darlings. And of course it just so happens to be the one who is in the double digits and thinks she knows everything.<br />
<br />
Why is it when you ask your little precious if she is for-sure for-sure that so and so's mom will be picking them up that the answer is yes. (BTW, for-sure for-sure is SERIOUS business. Almost like a pinky swear.)<br />
<br />
Now it's 45 minutes after you should have been picked up, you are not answering your phone, I have no idea whether you have been picked up by named mom or by some stranger. So I call the other party's mom and find out that she didn't know that she was suppose to be picking you up! WHY THEN are you telling me that you have a ride when the driver of this ride was not even aware that they should be driving to give you a ride!!! NOW, a whole hour after you were dismissed from this gathering you are finally picked up. Which is great! You finally call. And I am happy that you are ok!<br />
<br />
Why now? Is it because you are in the car now and feel safer from the wrath of mom?<br />
<br />
I do find out that adult overseer was watching out for you. Thank goodness. Because that is not a neighborhood I would want to hang out in after dark...alone! Even at 30-something. I am very thankful that I know and trust this guy as well as humbled for him sitting with you girls after everyone else was gone!<br />
<br />
NOW, I'm embarrassed because adult overseer has a family and little babies and I'm sure he wanted to kiss them goodnight before they went to sleep. <br />
<br />
But what is it that really makes me mad has very little to do with you in this moment! I am frustrated because I am at home packing all of my stuff and getting ready to leave at 4:30 in the morning to go work 4 straight 12 hour shifts. Maybe that's not a lot for some. But it is physically and emotionally and on occasion, spiritually exhausting work. Not only that, but this work that I speak of is not down the street. It's two hours away. Therefore, I can not discipline you. You are spending the night with your friend and dad is ok with that. I AM NOT! It is in your dad's hands and we are not seeing eye to eye on this one. <br />
<br />
Basically I am in tears because I don't like this! I want to be home! I want a job that is closer to my home! I want to have some weekends off! I want to take care of my kids and make sure they are safe and sound where ever they are suppose to be. That's what I want! <br />
<br />
This is posted and un-edited because my dryer is finished. I need to get my scrubs out and pack the rest of my bags for this stupid work!<br />
<br />
pouting :(Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-91447383899971418222011-09-20T22:59:00.001-05:002011-09-21T07:42:49.466-05:00Mastermind<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Being that I do what I do,</span> and what I do just happens to involve a lot of people who've had trauma to their brain, I find it interesting that I am trying to grasp the concept of how beautiful and intricate the human brain is. I mean, <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">over 100 billion neurons</span> and it only weights a couple of pounds. Approximately a quadrillion synapses in the human brain alone! Is that even a real number...Seriously!?! The hologram of thoughts that our brain can think in just one minute is impossible to count. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's no wonder that when Satan wants to attack us, his portal of entry is the brain.</span></b> If the Bible says<i> "For as he thinks in his heart, so <i>is</i> he." (Prov 23:7)</i> then of course the enemy wants us to be self critical, worry about the future, or even doubt our Creator. He is really good at having me believe that I am unacceptable as I am. He is great at telling me to look at my friends and notice that I don't belong there. He is even better at using my past hurts and hangups to get me down. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">As I have grown spiritually, I now realize a couple of things about the plot of the enemy. When I made a commitment to press in and really seek the face of God,<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">things were about to really get shaken up.</span></span> I've heard people talk about their journey and the difficult things they've faced while walking on the path less traveled. My goodness, I've survived some of these battles waged in the spiritual realm. But, I don't think I was really prepared to be attacked the way I have been since I made that vow. </span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></i><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">My girls are the best.</span></i> They are mom's, and wives, and sisters, and daughters who desire God's best for their families. These ladies and their husbands are established and connected in this community. Several are teachers, a couple are entrepreneurs, a pastor's wife, attorney's wives, it's just a whole gamut of wonderful women. Some work at home, some work outside the home. <span style="font-size: small;">We are a mash up of <i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">all things girly</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></i><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and wonderful!</span></i> </span>We are LIFE GIVING!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">So, ya see, Satan is really good at getting me to question my existence in this circle of friends. He tells me lies. These lies go from, you don't exercise enough or eat healthy like these women. You're fat and don't deserve to be such good friends with so and so. You're divorced and judged. All of these women are married and have great husbands. You defiantly don't make enough money. Look at your life and then look at theirs. See, you don't belong...do ya? To which my first response is, this is a lie and I do not receive it. But day after day of hearing this tends to wear on me and makes me start to question. <i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b> Do I really belong? </b></span></i>He's smart! He knows exactly what to say to me to get me to eventually crumble. He is keenly aware of my rejection issues from my past. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">The good thing is, my girls have a sense that something is wrong. And when I am able to<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"> rally my boldness</span></i> and speak out the lies I was believing, it just melts away. I feel loved! I am blessed! I do belong! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">My fleshy hologram thoughts of </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">rejection, judgment, and indigence disintegrate</span> and I am reminded that not only does he know my name...But He knows every single thought!</span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-45907932350845279562011-09-14T09:42:00.000-05:002011-09-14T09:42:27.425-05:00I RUNToday I Ran...<br />
<br />
I'm hoping this will be the beginning of a new love. My desire is to be a runner. One that can run a specified distance without feeling like puking on the street in front of them (which is how I felt today). One that has a good runners body, you know, long and lean. Maybe I'm a bit over zealous about that, so I will settle for short and in better shape than I am now.<br />
<br />
I finally have a purpose to run.<br />
<br />
PASHI<br />
<br />
I will dedicate every step that I run to her. I will dedicate every step I run to the little girls who are stuck in a life of sexual slavery. I will dedicate every step to God! Because otherwise, I will not be able to do this!Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-90939243032265072572009-07-20T11:54:00.010-05:002009-07-20T14:36:03.704-05:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:180%;" >T</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:180%;" >H</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:180%;" >I</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:180%;" >R</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:180%;" >T</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:180%;" >Y</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:180%;" >-</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:180%;" >F</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:180%;" >I</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:180%;" >V</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:180%;" >E</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTdWPCJvCcbdaS9Ew5DKYl6yEN9_CjshzHd9igP0IWDbHKYklWpOWCt06ttEYeTSXYsTWpSYOo7AVucYpXozER6yXMtg-iPbGaUD8y4jRJcHfxa0BwwUh8KPKGkoRWXvNriIBkml02VI/s1600-h/35+th+birthday+09+043.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTdWPCJvCcbdaS9Ew5DKYl6yEN9_CjshzHd9igP0IWDbHKYklWpOWCt06ttEYeTSXYsTWpSYOo7AVucYpXozER6yXMtg-iPbGaUD8y4jRJcHfxa0BwwUh8KPKGkoRWXvNriIBkml02VI/s320/35+th+birthday+09+043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360595744464669074" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Some of my gurlz helping me celebrate!</span></span><br /></div> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">I know it is hard to believe that I am 35 by looking at me, but I am. lol</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> If you ask me how old I am...well, I'll lie!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Let me also say, that I am apprehensive to be transparent on here. When you do not know who is reading or who will be offended by what you write, it is hard to be completely real! But, really... why am I concerned with that. (let me answer that... I don't like conflict and I have enough in my life right now!)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><br /></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHbeTkJx_q3wO0rw-Gt02xYsYcaxCBVLK5svU03DxZ1oXlzxAPXFTCFmww8H5GPU0dEG2fm1Ljz78FJS9MHCIxIlpmW-EQZO0feFcfUL0eF3fISmWoRuNzOKsfyI2C2cvdS-wbzz5Pwg/s1600-h/103_2332.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHbeTkJx_q3wO0rw-Gt02xYsYcaxCBVLK5svU03DxZ1oXlzxAPXFTCFmww8H5GPU0dEG2fm1Ljz78FJS9MHCIxIlpmW-EQZO0feFcfUL0eF3fISmWoRuNzOKsfyI2C2cvdS-wbzz5Pwg/s320/103_2332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360589259647744274" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:78%;" >Brooke and I</span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">This </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">year my actual birth date was </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">not a happy time for me. </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Why? For several reasons. First of which, every since I lost my mom in 2006, my birthday's are not the same. When the woman who carried me in her stomach, cared for me, taught me, laughed and cried with me and for me is gone, my birthday has not carried the sam</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">e significance as it once did. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><br />Secondly, this year my husband and I are getting a divorce so that</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> also makes this birthday hard. No only the divorce, but everything that it has entailed with the family has been difficult for me to accept. But it is what it is!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><br />Finally, my birthday was on a Sunday this year. Those of you who know me know that I work EVERY weekend in Dallas. Working is part of life and as adults we don't get to treat our birthday as if it is a national holiday (but I'm thinking mine should be). Therefore, I did not get to see my kids. Ashley left for camp that day and Payton was with his dad.<br /><br />Now, the combination of the three of these together is what made me an emotional wreck on June 28th.<br /><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5EeD3H7Zo2BDDVWi9LI9XSNrGiXnvy3NcrTae1AaIi3wiiC4j45bArfxIGBmqINnSupfuy4dETW1Vr7UmtIsIlT7xDyz1jUpIpbJuY5B8EqJ-GCbxirZz16I_nNDdEcoyhDMoL42FZYc/s1600-h/35+th+birthday+09+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5EeD3H7Zo2BDDVWi9LI9XSNrGiXnvy3NcrTae1AaIi3wiiC4j45bArfxIGBmqINnSupfuy4dETW1Vr7UmtIsIlT7xDyz1jUpIpbJuY5B8EqJ-GCbxirZz16I_nNDdEcoyhDMoL42FZYc/s320/35+th+birthday+09+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360606516948662434" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:78%;" >Kesleigh, me, Stephanie, Marsha, and Heather</span><br /><br /></div><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><br />On the other hand, I have been blessed with some of the greatest friends IN THE WORLD! I feel so lucky to have such great people in my life. I love all of you girls, Waco and Dallas, y'all are so special to me!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><br />I went to Dallas on Friday and went to dinner with girls from work! Wish I had pics for you, but I don't. (got a pic, see below) We went to Benihana's. The food was wonderful, the friends are hilarious and priceless, and the gifts were amusing, to say the least!<br /><br />The following Wednesday was just as memorable! We had fondue and drinks at Uncorked and the after party at Hondo's. Thank you Stephanie and Marsha for the food from Taco Bell since Hondo's couldn't even get chips and salsa because the "cook went home".<br /></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">What was one of my worst birth date's in my 35 years turned out to be my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE birthday yet! Yes, I would love to have my mom here, but she is in God's hands now. I missed my kids like crazy, but they came home soon. You girls are the ones who made it unequivocal to no other birthday!! I hope you are all in my life for an extremely long time!!! If you do not carry the same sentiments about me being in your life - TOO BAD! You should have got out when you had the chance.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Py1551rBXq4qcToVlQJQE9Q-DIWhsHPL_WXvzMrEUiDSP0gSbf0wNy_nphvESp9EPBnQ4arY6A7gkAUzO_hzh3_pm7zrxbxPyYD82E23j4JX280qAxZiueTr76EFJwI1LRPc4KwX-CU/s1600-h/benihana1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Py1551rBXq4qcToVlQJQE9Q-DIWhsHPL_WXvzMrEUiDSP0gSbf0wNy_nphvESp9EPBnQ4arY6A7gkAUzO_hzh3_pm7zrxbxPyYD82E23j4JX280qAxZiueTr76EFJwI1LRPc4KwX-CU/s320/benihana1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360627591636164066" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:78%;" >Top row: Jordan, Casey, Fran<br />Bottom row: Tanna, Shavonne, me, Cathy</span><br /></div></div></div>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-89020455298458481512009-04-28T21:29:00.002-05:002009-04-28T21:32:53.653-05:00HI!!!<br /><br />I know it has been forever since i've blogged!!<br />Please forgive me and know that i love you and miss you. We are still alive. Ashley will respond to the previous post soon and i will continue my blogging career. Yet another thing i love to do and don't get paid for. lol.<br />Many of you know that my life has been crazy lately and I thought it best to spare you from that.<br />Until I blog Again.<br />Much LoveDonahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-48002094596566991762009-01-20T09:26:00.002-06:002009-01-20T09:35:32.642-06:00<span style="font-size:180%;">Ask Ashley</span><br /><br /><br />Here is a fun idea I am stealing from a friend. Ask Ashley is the blog post where you ask my 11 year old daughter all kinds of questions. Keep it clean! But if there is something you would like to know about the lack of parenting skills i have, Ask Ashley. Do you want to know about her childhood, Ask Ashley...what color is her bedroom? Ask Ashley. Questions you've never asked an 11 year old girl, Ask Ashley! Are you getting the idea?<br /><br />Click on comments below and type in your question. Then stay tuned for the next post, Ashley Answers!Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-24451573068878112962009-01-19T22:53:00.002-06:002009-01-19T22:55:30.259-06:00<span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:130%;" >Just in case you are wondering...yes I am still alive.</span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-60624361173947278482008-12-14T22:23:00.004-06:002008-12-14T23:12:49.999-06:00<span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">What's Your Type?</span></span><br /><br /><br />At some point in your life, you have probably taken a personality profile test. You know, are you the golden retriever, lion, otter, or beaver? Does the sanguine, phlegmatic, choleric, or melancholy<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span>personality describe you best?<br /><br />I have read some of the book JUST YOUR TYPE by Paul Tieger and Barbara Barron-Tieger. It was enlightening to find out just why I act/react the way I do in certain situations.<br /><br />Here's the test:<br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);" href="http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp">http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp</a><br />Here's another explanation of your type<br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);" href="http://www.personalitypage.com/home.html">http://www.personalitypage.com/home.html</a><br /><br />Take it...<br /><br />Then lets talk about it!<br /><br />I am the ESFJ.Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-27954570297637044312008-12-11T20:25:00.002-06:002008-12-11T20:52:45.116-06:00Throwing Fits...<br /><br />You know how you feel when your sweet angel is yelling and screaming! The warmth that washes over you until your face is red and neck splotchy. What about the thoughts..."If I put duck tape over his mouth will he be quite THEN?" or "White room, padded jacket, people bringing me pills and water...that sounds nice!" I wonder if my kids think that about me when I am throwing my fits. <br />This week has proven extremely difficult for me. I just want to put a BIG BLACK X over my last post. All the hot chocolate and watching kids play blah, blah, blah is for the birds today! Well, maybe I should have read my BIBLE today. The things that are driving me to the beautiful white is the same things you face! Why is my headband in the floor when I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">distinctly</span> remember putting it in the bathroom drawer. The garlic press is in the living room and I didn't cook today. My wooden spoons now have a very artistic black sharpie marker stripe down them. These decorations have not been part of the decor in the kitchen for as long as I can remember. Why is the phone unplugged? I know I didn't do it 'cause I always welcome the distraction of speaking with another adult! Usually my sister.<br />I guess it's time for me to go to Time Out!Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-3139461556717544972008-12-04T23:16:00.007-06:002008-12-05T01:25:18.363-06:00<span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">HURRY... COME ON...</span></span><br /><br /><br />Are you overwhelmed? Rushed? Fatigued? I know I am!! I asked my husband tonight what it was about this time of year that make people love it? Christmas is my favorite time of year, but there is no enjoyment in the 8 loads of laundry that are separated and waiting for someone to wash them. The toilet that just broke and the dishwasher that needs to be unloaded are going to have to wait! That is why people have more than one bathroom, you know! <br /><br />Now...Slow down for a moment. Just sit.<br /><br />Have a cup of coffee...<br /><br />Watch your kids...<br /><br />Read your Bible...<br /><br />Just for a sec.<br /><br />Meditate on the reason we are here. Jesus Christ. <br />That is why I love this time of year! I am blessed and I am thankful! <br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Now</span>, hurry up and look at these pics, cause it's bed-time.<br /><br />HALLOWEEN 2008<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFhKZKpFsWTwThTqwtsusPoRX94WSXKJbfYxljr5zpK9jtOWBvBz4axIDDIGF-yvdCpcocGLFFni8fcZ4MukL0ghHw_vJazHVluiltydTPblu0mtLtr3lR19NZiaLJszusfewihjig4w/s1600-h/nov+4,+2008+410.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFhKZKpFsWTwThTqwtsusPoRX94WSXKJbfYxljr5zpK9jtOWBvBz4axIDDIGF-yvdCpcocGLFFni8fcZ4MukL0ghHw_vJazHVluiltydTPblu0mtLtr3lR19NZiaLJszusfewihjig4w/s320/nov+4,+2008+410.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276196212479876018" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Payton, Keaten, Kaden, Makenna<br />Halloween Cousins<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbznR2PN1h9imUBIf2ZqrgcmnUbmKSNth582ok6mxf_VUfRyEO47YpGzpZkLt7uGtT0xKpHYGmSfHmaY14lb4J4cnbxUZ1SodmlGT22UhiIiySsmkW0Hdl0A2SyFMx2AUe-0QEIzDFDvY/s1600-h/nov+4,+2008+408.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbznR2PN1h9imUBIf2ZqrgcmnUbmKSNth582ok6mxf_VUfRyEO47YpGzpZkLt7uGtT0xKpHYGmSfHmaY14lb4J4cnbxUZ1SodmlGT22UhiIiySsmkW0Hdl0A2SyFMx2AUe-0QEIzDFDvY/s320/nov+4,+2008+408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276172739165566450" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Haliegh, Landen, Madison, Tanner, and Ashley<br />Don't I have the most beautiful family! lol!<br /><br />November 17th<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0rLjZS2h5DpSc8j4gOtu08YsBWcpqa2pZEwN7YJLOD-XGIsWbNNijo9hmZppDFTpa6OpNxMZKeBAkL-y3xOlq7Tvl8FSLxISuCFTAGmSBnBPZOzGd1_m6nJGCyixorC3mGdsWLIXpE0o/s1600-h/11-18-08+011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0rLjZS2h5DpSc8j4gOtu08YsBWcpqa2pZEwN7YJLOD-XGIsWbNNijo9hmZppDFTpa6OpNxMZKeBAkL-y3xOlq7Tvl8FSLxISuCFTAGmSBnBPZOzGd1_m6nJGCyixorC3mGdsWLIXpE0o/s320/11-18-08+011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276196223937715234" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Pre-Birthday. Gifts from Great-Grandma Sugar!<br />I remember being a little girl and couldn't wait to get into the box that my Grandma sent from Colorado. My mom would let us open one gift from Grandma Sugar Christmas Eve's Eve and sometimes the night before our birthday. (warm fuzzy memories) Why make the poor baby wait 12 hours until his birthday.<br /><br /><br />NOVEMBER 18, 2008<br />MY SUPER-HERO TURNED 5!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX39zGBJB2PFKHQ4roGG5HGhhuzQeDMjFjZPibVEOdL8dbOAk_sSOHMcFsJfIJzqHbAt2Gway4l2aYc7Dr0UbNDxIntup2aj0P_wUYsbZk3EnahJbi4tJevj1g4vh_VoqmlAIXPLZNZ38/s1600-h/11-18-08+040.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX39zGBJB2PFKHQ4roGG5HGhhuzQeDMjFjZPibVEOdL8dbOAk_sSOHMcFsJfIJzqHbAt2Gway4l2aYc7Dr0UbNDxIntup2aj0P_wUYsbZk3EnahJbi4tJevj1g4vh_VoqmlAIXPLZNZ38/s320/11-18-08+040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276172740743777474" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Mimi's Cake<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWICf0OUcKW2oaPgXcUn3HkhtMeNYHRbyO_oQ0vyQeXoSCzZmV-Vh76DgZqVsatpTyb8dLuSp4OHfBi41qksGq8XLuw_zxO3zVNrUTkT6mS-iXgQfdWi7zDtF8FffG1vjj9YPxIap1hw/s1600-h/11-18-08+044.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWICf0OUcKW2oaPgXcUn3HkhtMeNYHRbyO_oQ0vyQeXoSCzZmV-Vh76DgZqVsatpTyb8dLuSp4OHfBi41qksGq8XLuw_zxO3zVNrUTkT6mS-iXgQfdWi7zDtF8FffG1vjj9YPxIap1hw/s320/11-18-08+044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276172748375234066" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We absolutely adored the Jumping Party Birthday!<br />Payton, Miles, Keaten<br /><br /><br />THANKSGIVING DAY 2008<br />and Breanne's 18th Birthday!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRF6N7IMjeEwH8PEfmhbPO5p03sGRqHSPEUitVUzMrmzA0TW-CBkLgzJbrU5D_QLUiwAHjiNwgI8-0Y8k4BnPfOw1WBYbrVSkiQVhpb-tgQay9Fw9ElRmYyzI0EKsOMdF2EVZaiDUT9j8/s1600-h/11-18-08+0751.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRF6N7IMjeEwH8PEfmhbPO5p03sGRqHSPEUitVUzMrmzA0TW-CBkLgzJbrU5D_QLUiwAHjiNwgI8-0Y8k4BnPfOw1WBYbrVSkiQVhpb-tgQay9Fw9ElRmYyzI0EKsOMdF2EVZaiDUT9j8/s320/11-18-08+0751.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276196223214856082" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The Bird. Yum...Yum...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDE_3e0AzDsKUlUaeMZuB91B_YxGb4GPsg_i0DIWtzwGCJHQ4BXswriCRD02tXKRLk9US1ABYCxydu-7p6bJjYwgiMj8xMiokT6llYPquLLdc4TQJ7MFt0kQZmW7xuqY4Rtq_Iq_8QG04/s1600-h/11-18-08+082.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDE_3e0AzDsKUlUaeMZuB91B_YxGb4GPsg_i0DIWtzwGCJHQ4BXswriCRD02tXKRLk9US1ABYCxydu-7p6bJjYwgiMj8xMiokT6llYPquLLdc4TQJ7MFt0kQZmW7xuqY4Rtq_Iq_8QG04/s320/11-18-08+082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276172755695002114" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Kaden and Payton threaten to run over everyone's toes on Thanksgiving day. How is one suppose to take a nap when your feet are a constant target?<br /><br />It has been a good couple of months. I hope the same is true for you.Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-58497892961485596212008-11-17T15:47:00.010-06:002008-11-17T17:00:06.478-06:00<span style="font-size:180%;">Teachable Moments</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Teachable moments for my kids are not something I have thought about praying for until the past couple of months. However, today was one of those moments. Being hurt by someone does not feel good. We've all been there, but sometimes... the best response is no response!<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control. Proverbs 29:11</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">(Thank you Angela)</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Thank you Lord for friends who can text msg. you a scripture in a blink of an eye!<br /><br />It makes me tearful when my daughter is relaying what this scripture means to her and then <span style="font-weight: bold;">making me</span> memorize it, who's the mom here anyway? Not only the words, but the address as well. So often I think my kids are going to be lucky if they make it to adulthood with out bumps and bruises on their character and our relationships. But, in times like today, when I can look in their innocent eyes and fill their spongy brain with the TRUTH of God, it makes me think that I can make it! My mothering capabilities may not be that of Claire Huxtable or June Cleaver, but they are Mine! And that's good enough!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I can do all things through Christ. Philippians 4:13</span><br /></span></span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-9313836167427391572008-11-04T22:16:00.001-06:002008-11-04T22:17:43.815-06:00<span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:180%;" >I THINK I MAY THROW-UP!!!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /> you figure it out!<br /></span></span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-15227671354623782582008-10-12T21:40:00.004-05:002008-10-12T22:09:31.513-05:00<span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:180%;" >THE SHAVER</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYENtr6y-mdxrBQjqCk7nXF8ztsMecO3HXhgpKyIU_Shu4YJ1xbH-B67W-ODMq5le2LTO8KIWFWiBeoEWOI4bCsxWYjnjPylbvzt7OfMNZjs68a86GFLtJ6tMBczXUqfwvGw5UEfHHN8/s1600-h/more+pics+003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYENtr6y-mdxrBQjqCk7nXF8ztsMecO3HXhgpKyIU_Shu4YJ1xbH-B67W-ODMq5le2LTO8KIWFWiBeoEWOI4bCsxWYjnjPylbvzt7OfMNZjs68a86GFLtJ6tMBczXUqfwvGw5UEfHHN8/s320/more+pics+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256464480459958402" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">I've been tagged by my sweet friend Autumn.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">Well, I thought that this tag would be a little easier. That was until I looked at my pictures. When I open PICTURES from the start menu there is an extremely cute picture of Ashley and her friend. Just in case you don't know this, pictures do not show up in the same order when you are downloading from blogger. OK, well maybe yours does...but mine and has to do things backwards. On the other hand, THIS is a pretty cute picture!!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">It was right after Christmas last year and Mimi bought Payton a fake shaving set. Ashley offered to "shave" Pay and he obliged.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:100%;" ><br />Now, the rules:<br /></span><ul style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><li>Go to pictures file</li><li>Click on the 6th folder of pics</li><li>The 6th pic in that folder is the one you post</li><li>Let us know the details</li></ul><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">I tag the first 5 people on my blog roll with the exception of Autumn (since she is the one who tagged me) Adrielle, Amy, Angela, Becky, and Barb.</span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"></span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-30188049585825196582008-10-08T23:33:00.004-05:002008-10-08T23:40:57.197-05:00<span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">FUN OR CRAZY???</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwX5tnOVZm2z5fJ7wGZGAcWR3hkRKAenGDbUlA9a7oVx5BUS72XyR_zev_et4uYoyMc5-JgAUb6WVhkunUIP6mkwvQk_zV7LeyL_0iXFE11ws4ks30d0FycyzLHO2IwioIcMVzIbiCzxQ/s1600-h/Camcorder+10-08-08+078.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwX5tnOVZm2z5fJ7wGZGAcWR3hkRKAenGDbUlA9a7oVx5BUS72XyR_zev_et4uYoyMc5-JgAUb6WVhkunUIP6mkwvQk_zV7LeyL_0iXFE11ws4ks30d0FycyzLHO2IwioIcMVzIbiCzxQ/s320/Camcorder+10-08-08+078.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255008766916671458" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">Over 15 A+ cards sold by each kid</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">Free Limo ride</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">Free pizza</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">Sounds like fun...RIGHT...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">23 5th graders singing at the top of their lungs.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">23 5th graders in one limo.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">23 5th graders and me as the chauffeur</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">23 5th graders....</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">WOW!!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">That was yesterday and I am still exhausted.</span><br /><br /></div>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-19202016116667025462008-09-29T22:59:00.004-05:002008-09-29T23:50:00.477-05:00<span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192); font-weight: bold;">TAGGED!!!</span></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">It has been a while since I was tagged by a couple of friends (Kylie and Rose). Honestly, It has been really hard for me to come up with anything. So (drum roll please)... here is my pitiful list.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Some unknown facts about ME!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">1) When I buy a Starbucks coffee, the emblem on the cup, the emblem on the cardboard-thingy, and the sipping hole have to be in alignment. I don't make the employees line them up, I will do it myself. You know when you have a travel mug with a handle and it is pointed the wrong direction, it's hard to drink out of it comfortably, so you re-do the lid until it is correct. Same with me and Starbucks.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">2) I HATE to pass 18 wheelers and buses, especially when there is concrete barricades. Every weekend I pray myself past them. First I pray for protection then I pray there are no cops up ahead. Plus, how am I to know if they are awake or asleep?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">3) It really bothers me when I see people stopped on the shoulder of the highway. Please, if you are reading this, go to the next exit and find a safe place to stop. If you run out of gas or some other circumstance that prevents you from getting to the next exit, get as far off the road as possible. There have been too many people get hit and die from stopping on the side of the road to change a tire, get something out of the trunk, and even being pulled over by a state trooper.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">4) I love cute notepads and spiral notebooks. Even though I have a couple of cases of spirals, if I saw a cute one at Target, I would probably still buy it. And, I have recently paid $22 dollars for a notepad (but it's cute!). How ridiculous is that?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">5) There are absolutely too many striped knit shirts in my wardrobe. I am drawn to stripes. Anyone want to analyze that?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">6) I count red cars. What do I mean? Well, when there are several or more red cars around the same area, ie. traffic light, parking lot, in line at the bank, I count them. Only red though. For instance, when I took my son across town to MDO, I knew that there would be 8 to 10 red cars at the school down the block.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);">Ok, Now that you know that I am totally insane, tag your it. If you have read this I challenge you to write 2 (or more)unknown facts about you in my comment section. Thanks for playing!</span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-38525890661019887322008-09-24T21:43:00.004-05:002008-09-24T23:07:44.523-05:00<span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:180%;" >The Number 14</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">What is so appealing about number 14? It makes 2 weeks complete, is the atomic number for silicone on the chemical element chart, and I will bet you did not know that the number 14 is a Stella Octangula number (If you already knew that, you are reading the WRONG BLOG!) </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">14 YEARS! I have been married for 14 years! It seems unreal. Sometimes if feels as if the time has flown by, and other times it hardly inches along at all. This is the beginning of </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">our</span><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"> fiscal</span> <span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">year. And I BELIEVE it will be an exceptionally productive year. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">Some may remember </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://doodle-momof2.blogspot.com/2008_07_04_archive.html">this post</a><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">. I got nothing from my husband for my birthday. He has been redeemed though! Our anniversary was Sept 17, although I started receiving gifts on the 3rd which is 14 days prior to the actual date. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">14 GIFTS... (in no particular order with the exception of the last one)</span><br /><ul style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><li>Roses</li><li>i Tunes gift card</li><li>Compass gift card</li><li>Hastings gift card</li><li>Starbucks gift card</li><li>Willow tree angels</li><li>ink cartridge</li><li>new Lexmark printer (compatible with Vista yea!)</li><li>Shopping in Austin with THE girls.</li><li>Hobby Lobby gift card</li><li>Car charger for my phone</li><li>Car adapter for i pod</li><li>Movie passes<br /></li></ul><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"> AND</span><br /><ul style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><li>A card! He told me to plan a cruise for the two of us. What? Really? I get to go on a CRUISE!<br /></li></ul><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">You did a good job this year Mike. A very good job!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);">Thank you. Love you.</span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-17797308471627745172008-09-08T23:18:00.005-05:002008-09-08T23:26:31.499-05:00<span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Feeling Better</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-style: italic;">Just a quick note to say that I found out that someone in my family/extended family has suffered with hair pulling. It started around the same age that Ash is now. After many tears falling and a lot of prayer... she does not pull anymore. That is just a inspiration to me. During "new" adventures for my family, it is extremely important to get that support needed to help deal with, and find avenues to change behavior. Or to just be a sounding board...</span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-26425728223764583042008-08-23T00:47:00.014-05:002008-08-23T01:57:31.846-05:00<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;" >PRE-K AND THE PARKING LOT</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: lucida grande; font-style: italic;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj6bpDfEn8GRLEwiVsLg_3NW4k5p0DGHPKAUdhEyShEYCha7MZHCfetVarQPhIdxq4TZICjcjrRiieZ6M2zKx1FqOQpMxzkAIyy_d0WP1_a0UfS-qc3Jx-dud84HWgmyhf41W0h5bThRo/s1600-h/Aug+21,+2008+054.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj6bpDfEn8GRLEwiVsLg_3NW4k5p0DGHPKAUdhEyShEYCha7MZHCfetVarQPhIdxq4TZICjcjrRiieZ6M2zKx1FqOQpMxzkAIyy_d0WP1_a0UfS-qc3Jx-dud84HWgmyhf41W0h5bThRo/s320/Aug+21,+2008+054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237592355926604674" border="0" /></a><div face="lucida grande" style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">First day of Pre-K!! Pay was so excited to be going to his new school. He loves his new teacher as do I. I think this Pre-K thing will work out. We defiantly miss our other friends from Kids Kingdom (esp. Matthew and Carson)<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div face="lucida grande" style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">NOW!! DO You See This? Huh? Do You wanna know what happened?<br /></div><br /><div face="lucida grande" style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgx9CCQnwLxNgoydSbzwJkH7CY6iWmBVdEo3qEmDzmOvU1q9qBkAxFJgeAWIvFDbQDlVRF4meyShpwQsin8izYv8xkLiLsq04QP7fad636qXjVbJMadiO-qrI0bpUmNi0KSXMXemOjFE/s1600-h/Aug+21,+2008+060.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgx9CCQnwLxNgoydSbzwJkH7CY6iWmBVdEo3qEmDzmOvU1q9qBkAxFJgeAWIvFDbQDlVRF4meyShpwQsin8izYv8xkLiLsq04QP7fad636qXjVbJMadiO-qrI0bpUmNi0KSXMXemOjFE/s320/Aug+21,+2008+060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237589199776699394" border="0" /></a>Well too bad, I'm gonna tell ya anyway!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: lucida grande; font-style: italic;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJ2145MdudM32RKGuwFefJcd6kyAW7p9XK_VfyFCjVQXc_wl-rK4SgavcTXVApKmPdoyPoGzOqo9k7PCnU5heI3Sz_A7j3LZsCrpoh28FF1XEEixMMxq48dvuB-NNoygsH_RJXeOMQbw/s1600-h/Aug+21,+2008+061.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJ2145MdudM32RKGuwFefJcd6kyAW7p9XK_VfyFCjVQXc_wl-rK4SgavcTXVApKmPdoyPoGzOqo9k7PCnU5heI3Sz_A7j3LZsCrpoh28FF1XEEixMMxq48dvuB-NNoygsH_RJXeOMQbw/s320/Aug+21,+2008+061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237589203053338882" border="0" /></a><br />I went to Home Depot today to get some paint and "stuff". While we were in there, I was thinking to myself in true blogger fashion, "Maybe I should blog about how I love home improvement type stores. There are so many fantastic things here." No matter what project you are starting, in the middle of, or need one more box of screws to complete..."Home Depot is not just your home improvement store, it is so much more". ;0)<br /><br />As I was leaving the parking lot...<br />It happened...<br />I looked over at Ashley's friend sitting in the front seat...<br />the big work truck pulls out of his parking space right into the side of my car!!!<br /><br />DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE SAID TO ME?<br />" Did you not see me pulling out of that parking spot?"<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">WHAT!!! SERIOUSLY??!!</span></span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(Note to the MM small group girls whom I told about the water department and having to by an I'm sorry gift card - I stayed composed.)<br /><br />"Well, did you not see me driving behind you?"<br /><br />Now, I would think that this man would know what to do in a situation like this. You know, step up... take the bull by the horn's. Nope! He said, "well, what are we suppose to do now?"<br /><br />We have all the business taken care of and I hope the company insurance will pay for my car to be repaired. What makes me angry about the whole thing is his truck was fine with the exception of some scratching on his bumper and tailgate!</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcBubvOmXzzFYmIhv9O0qJQY4uK7J3YlU9u4FWzluwjlNbsY4phqAjr944-P8DXFfdrsgLbQ65eHeryRf628T8yirq6_-x362Zpl0isYSX0VT8sYJFLiAOpa7JDJ_vEvQmicxvAmIIZU/s1600-h/Aug-21,-2008-063.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcBubvOmXzzFYmIhv9O0qJQY4uK7J3YlU9u4FWzluwjlNbsY4phqAjr944-P8DXFfdrsgLbQ65eHeryRf628T8yirq6_-x362Zpl0isYSX0VT8sYJFLiAOpa7JDJ_vEvQmicxvAmIIZU/s320/Aug-21,-2008-063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237591814250696226" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><span style="font-weight: normal;">"God, I really do want to know what you are trying to teach me."</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal;">In the grand scheme of things, we are healthy, we are not hungry, we have our family.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal;">The car is fixable! (I don't want to have to get it fixed, I want it to be like it was) It is fixable.</span><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: lucida grande; font-style: italic;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtprjhXGQvFE8wWzKTJ8Z_9HVcZcicLaWR-8dFW-2aS7ytMOYN0fHQkopZKdmd-JliNtlWK504oK2TlwEMOm2fDUkFluzBLFyl-_lJlNe75F6hFdD1OdChKxlJpNE0K8Ut1EFXT3s7Mo/s1600-h/Aug+21,+2008+075.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtprjhXGQvFE8wWzKTJ8Z_9HVcZcicLaWR-8dFW-2aS7ytMOYN0fHQkopZKdmd-JliNtlWK504oK2TlwEMOm2fDUkFluzBLFyl-_lJlNe75F6hFdD1OdChKxlJpNE0K8Ut1EFXT3s7Mo/s320/Aug+21,+2008+075.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237589214255566690" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" >Ashley and BethAnn goofin' while in car pool lane to pick up my Pre-K boy.<br /><br />I must tell you that I am going nuts because my font and boldness is not working correctly. Is it b/c i'm tired? OR...is it b/c I'm blonde?<br /></span></div>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-37338371051872212262008-08-17T22:27:00.005-05:002008-08-18T23:22:35.502-05:00<span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Medical Olympics</span><br /></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Many weekends in the Trauma ICU are crazy busy, and this weekend was no exception! As I was practically running from one patients bedside to another, I started thinking about what you would see at the Medical Olympics. </span><br /><a style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DmCWKUTZz133MQLqONqE5AerPuqjZZxvAVd1y1aR0a65nZ7U16QBIEAIrf7ZxeuROREjmNkNMsXGPu5EHf-wQjmlDztE2toyXD6BcTzEu-uzWUnqnBRGQoPc6GCj9Lp2O_eCa4LwVn4/s1600-h/medical-olympics.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DmCWKUTZz133MQLqONqE5AerPuqjZZxvAVd1y1aR0a65nZ7U16QBIEAIrf7ZxeuROREjmNkNMsXGPu5EHf-wQjmlDztE2toyXD6BcTzEu-uzWUnqnBRGQoPc6GCj9Lp2O_eCa4LwVn4/s400/medical-olympics.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236073598417525122" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Here is what I thought based on what I do, help with, see done, or make fun of!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Wrestling a patient back into their bed. Who will win?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Marathon </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">intubations</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">. How many will be done in a hour?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">How many poops can you clean in a shift? Excludes coworkers poops.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Guess the diagnosis. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Following protocols. A 1/2 point will be deducted for every </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">faux</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"> pas.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Critical care patient transports. Getting all monitors, IV pumps, oxygen tanks, chart, and </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ambu bag down to CT and back up as quickly as possible. Don't forget the patient!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Embarrassing co-workers (not excluding </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">MD's</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">) Speaks for itself. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">How quick you can untangle tubes and lines without making it worse.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Stay smart while keeping emotions in check during emergent situations.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">Find a ugly </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">OMFS</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"> resident. Honest, you can't do it! If you do...Gold Medal!</span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-34330827775409010512008-08-13T23:49:00.005-05:002008-08-14T01:18:09.885-05:00<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:16;" >Growing Pains</span></i></b><i><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10;" ><br /><br />You know how your kids have the tendency to grow up? No matter how hard I protest this natural phenomenon, it tends to transpire anyway! Of course (being a mommy) it disturbs me to think that my daughter will be going to fifth grade this year and my son is only one year from being in Kindergarten. I want them to be sweet little kids forever. Ok, Ok, not forever! There are days in every mothers life when you think, this child may not make it to adulthood if they don't straighten up...right?<br />Last night was an epiphany moment that my kids are growing up. Both of them woke up in the middle of the night complaining of "growing" pains. In the past I have tried the natural route. You know... ice packs...rubbing...heating pads. Really, in the middle of the night is not the time for me to go natural.<br /><br />Ashley wakes up at 1 AM ...</span></i><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10;" ><br /><span style="">"Mom, my legs are hurting."</span><br /><br /><span style="">"I'm sorry babe, you want some Tylenol? Here drink some water. Now, go get back in the bed."</span><br /><br /><span style="">"I'm having a hard time sleeping. Can I read?"</span><br /><br /><span style="">"That's fine, but turn off your lamp before you go back to sleep."</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="">3:30 AM Payton wakes up SCREAMING! Uncontrollable, blood curling, hysterical, SCREAMING!</span><br /><span style="">"Mmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaaa mmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"</span><br /><br /><span style="">Thought- "Oh no, some one has came into the house and is trying to get my baby."</span><br /><span style="">"No, no, maybe he just had a bad dream, I'm just going to lay here and see if he goes back to sleep."</span><br /><br /><span style="">"MMMMaaaaaaaMMMMMMaaaaaa!"</span><br /><br /><span style="">Another thought- "Well, I guess I'm gonna have to get up and see what he is screaming about"</span><br /><br /><span style="">"Mmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmaaaaaaa!!!"</span><br /><br /><span style="">"Ok Payton, I'm coming. Whats wrong?"</span><br /><br /><span style="">"mmmyyyy wwegs aaarrr hurrting!"</span><br /><br /><span style="">"I'm sorry babe, you want some Tylenol? Here drink some water and wash it down. Come get in the bed with mama. You have to quit crying though. Do you want me to get an ice pack?" </span><br /><br /><span style="">Of course, the ice pack lasted about 5 seconds.</span><br /><br /><span style="">Needless to say, not a great night for sleeping. Now, as I was reading on the American Academy of Pediatrics website (and a couple other places), it may not be growing pains at all. More than likely it is due to more physical activity than normal. hummm.</span><br /><br /><span style="">Thought-"Guess I should have left the mall earlier."</span></span></i></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And by the way, check out my little favicon in the address bar. Cute huh?<br /><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10;" ><o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style="line-height: 115%;"><i></i><o:p></o:p></span></p>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-91255386357365766432008-08-11T22:01:00.002-05:002008-08-11T23:11:35.112-05:00<span style="font-size:130%;">LAZY!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">Do you ever have days where you don't get out of your pj's... you lay on the couch... and let your kids fix there own lunch?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">Well today was that day for me. I did get up and go get donuts for breakfast, and consenquently lunch for my kids. But the rest of the day...nothing. I even passed up the opportunity to have coffee with some wonderful girls b/c I did not want to get dressed. Olympics has been good though!</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-6028340128107131372008-07-16T10:25:00.003-05:002008-07-16T10:44:02.294-05:00<span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >Dirty Secrets<br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">Are you guilty of turning your clocks up a hour so your kids will go to bed earlier? What about passing store bought food off as your own? Have you ever called into work sick and failed to tell your family (because you were too busy shopping)? These are a couple of examples given today on Rachel Ray. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">Trisha Ashworth and Amy Nobile wrote a book titled </span><a style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255); font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.com/Dirty-Little-Secrets-Otherwise-Perfect/dp/0811863905">Dirty Little Secrets From Otherwise Perfect Mom's</a><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">. Some of the "secrets" were defiantly mom-knowledge, but there were also invigorating A-HA moments. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;">What are your dirty little secrets?</span>Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5416765652907706892.post-22085297726423041572008-07-13T23:16:00.005-05:002008-07-14T00:49:15.512-05:00<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" >My Home Makes Me Think Of...</span><br /><br />1. Comfort - Put on your shinny red slippers and say it with me...there's no place like home...there's no place like home...there's no place like home.<br /><br />2. Grateful - When I was toe-headed little girl, we were penniless. No matter where we lived, it was home. Despite how small, cluttered, or unorganized my house is...I am lucky enough to live in a HOME that when you put a ball on the kitchen floor it doesn't roll into the livingroom (if you want to call that luck?!).<br /><br />3. Stressed - Because my home <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">is</span> small, cluttered, and unorganized... I am diligently attempting to establish some order but<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" >,</span> the dishes overflow from the sink onto the counter and clean laundry free falls from outer space. Since I am a working,<span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"> </span><a style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);" href="http://www.aisforangela.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-what-is-stay-at-home-mom-exactly.html">stay at home mom and not a house-wife</a>, my kids are hauling more <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" >stuff</span> out while I am purging drawers and cabinets. But...I wouldn't change it for the world.<br /><br />4. Appreciative - There are so many people living in our backyards that don't even have a home to go to. No place to lay their head and feel safe, no family who values them enough to make sure they have a hot meal, and no one to care enough to make sure they have clean clothes or a shower. (enter your own clever comment to people living in my back yard)<br /><br />5. Family - There are so many memories surrounding a home. The smell of a Thanksgiving meal, sound of children on Christmas morning, or the taste of your daily coffee... these are the memories that mold us into the adults we are today. Every child deserves a sanctuary where they feel loved and nurtured.Donahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11990137356517723556noreply@blogger.com3