<?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-2801264433981279011</id><updated>2011-10-17T06:19:28.409-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Stresses</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-4586899927879313078</id><published>2011-01-15T08:25:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T09:08:08.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years RESOLUTIONS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have made some very serious resolutions this year. I want to see some changes in my life, and am committed to doing the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/TTG_2v258LI/AAAAAAAAAk4/mdIVpxpgiE8/s1600/glass-of-water%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562437962059870386" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/TTG_2v258LI/AAAAAAAAAk4/mdIVpxpgiE8/s200/glass-of-water%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/TTG_CMq_c8I/AAAAAAAAAkw/iTGj-5B-epU/s1600/glass-of-water%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Without fail, no excuses...I will drink the recommended 8 glasses of water each week! NO skipping weeks, no "forgetting". 8 glasses a week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/TTHBILaViMI/AAAAAAAAAlA/7los7TVHbMw/s1600/t3%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562439361025640642" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/TTHBILaViMI/AAAAAAAAAlA/7los7TVHbMw/s200/t3%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will engage in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cardio&lt;/span&gt; activity for a minimum of 30 minutes at a time at least once a month. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; right, once a month. Don't laugh, I KNOW I can do it! And as I do this each month, I will get stronger! Just watch!&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;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/TTHE5NlnwHI/AAAAAAAAAlI/HokMzB6pIaU/s1600/scale-rgtb-face-large%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 172px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562443501958316146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/TTHE5NlnwHI/AAAAAAAAAlI/HokMzB6pIaU/s200/scale-rgtb-face-large%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lastly (not too many, as I want to actually accomplish these) I plan on loosing weight. As I have read, and studied this subject for many years now, I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; that there is a safe and realistic limit to how much you should loose, and how quickly. So as not to set myself up for failure, but still "push" myself, this year, I will loose a minimum of 2 pounds. It would be great to loose more that that, and I will certainly report my success. But, really, more than 2 pounds in a year, and you risk it being a temporary weight loss, and I don't want to yo-yo. I will loose those 2 pounds, and they will STAY OFF!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So there you have it.  My 2011 New Years Resolutions list!  I am committed to these goals, and I know they will help my life!  I will be happier, healthier and hotter (the 3 H's).  Check back periodically to see how I am progressing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/2801264433981279011-4586899927879313078?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/4586899927879313078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=4586899927879313078&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/4586899927879313078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/4586899927879313078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-years-resolutions.html' title='New Years RESOLUTIONS'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/TTG_2v258LI/AAAAAAAAAk4/mdIVpxpgiE8/s72-c/glass-of-water%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-8482028431574246525</id><published>2010-07-21T11:33:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T11:41:16.386-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Babies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;NO, this is not an announcement.  This is a bitch session.  I have a ton of friends and acquaintances and neighbors who are pregnant.  CONGRATS to them.  I am happy for them and the joy that a new baby brings.  My good friend just had her beautiful baby girl yesterday!  She is adorable....and I want to scream!  I feel like I have to be happy and "fake" with everybody.  I need to vent, and yell and...well, BITCH! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;My baby would be almost 18 month old.  Walking, getting into everything.  There are good parts to not having an 18 month old...I realize that, and am OK with my life, in general. But new babies are too much.  I look at them, and they have good color, and can grip your finger, and ...... I never had that with my Ella.  I will never have that again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;I want to curl up with my baby blanket that I made for Ella, and cry.  And cry.  And cry.  But I can't.  I am a mom, and a wife, and a taxi and a referee.  I am too busy, which I think helps with the day to day emotions.  But seeing the new lives that are coming down all around me, I am struggling.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;SO, forgive me if I can't kiss and hug you.  I am sorry if I have to turn away when you walk by with your cute preggo tummy. It is too much right now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-8482028431574246525?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/8482028431574246525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=8482028431574246525&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8482028431574246525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8482028431574246525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2010/07/new-babies.html' title='New Babies'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-7030296228312188304</id><published>2010-04-07T11:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T11:06:55.020-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lagoon  the good, the bad and the ugly!</title><content type='html'>We decided to get Lagoon season passes for the family.  We are not going on any major vacations, and thought this would be fun.  Opening weekend was cold and super slow.  We NEVER had to wait in a line.  The kids had a great time, we didn't spend money on food, or games!  It was a super fun weekend!&lt;br /&gt;Bad???  I can't ride a couple of the rides.  Like the Bat.  They could not buckle the harness over me and my big fattness!  Totally humiliating.  My kids were awesome, but I have renewed drive to get this weight off.  By the time the regular season opens (the week of Memorial Day) I will be able to ride any ride...ANY RIDE!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-7030296228312188304?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/7030296228312188304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=7030296228312188304&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7030296228312188304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7030296228312188304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2010/04/lagoon-good-bad-and-ugly.html' title='Lagoon  the good, the bad and the ugly!'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-9014984074121039446</id><published>2010-03-21T13:20:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T13:25:38.840-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have 2 wonderful weekend a year.  No kids. No husbands.  Hot tubs.  Chick Flicks.  Junk food.  Late nights.  Oh, and scrapping!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have now posted a countdown for our spring retreat!  SO excited!   I don't know that Brandon is terribly excited...but he is ALWAYS supportive of my bi-annual getaways!&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;  Love you babe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/S6ZyXmeIlNI/AAAAAAAAAi8/l-hoVJz0_LU/s1600-h/collage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/S6ZyXmeIlNI/AAAAAAAAAi8/l-hoVJz0_LU/s400/collage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451170148768060626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Love you, my Sassy's!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-9014984074121039446?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/9014984074121039446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=9014984074121039446&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/9014984074121039446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/9014984074121039446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-have-2-wonderful-weekend-year.html' title=''/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/S6ZyXmeIlNI/AAAAAAAAAi8/l-hoVJz0_LU/s72-c/collage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-6639429319515787792</id><published>2010-03-10T09:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T09:26:01.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Video Clip...made my day!!!</title><content type='html'>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MyGJXLxtVEo&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MyGJXLxtVEo"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-6639429319515787792?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/6639429319515787792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=6639429319515787792&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6639429319515787792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6639429319515787792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2010/03/funny-video-clipmade-my-day.html' title='Funny Video Clip...made my day!!!'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-8502651956894131854</id><published>2010-01-27T17:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T17:13:59.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day?????</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;font size="4" face="Papyrus"&gt;So, day 1 is over.&amp;#160; So is day 2 and 3 and 4 and…well, you get the idea.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;font size="4" face="Papyrus"&gt;It has been a good year so far.&amp;#160; I am feeling good, and following my diet, mostly.&amp;#160; However, I must admit that I am drinking a Diet Dr. Pepper.&amp;#160; I am weak.&amp;#160; When I am grumpy, I want a soda….not too bad considering the other things I &lt;u&gt;could &lt;/u&gt;choose.&amp;#160; Anyway, my personal goal is shot, and today, so is my diet.&amp;#160; But tomorrow is another day, and I will choose to do better!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-8502651956894131854?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/8502651956894131854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=8502651956894131854&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8502651956894131854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8502651956894131854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2010/01/day.html' title='Day?????'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-5955032476667124735</id><published>2010-01-11T08:55:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T09:03:27.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1</title><content type='html'>Today is the first day.  "First day of what?" you might ask. Today is the first day of my 3rd round of HCG.  I am doing great, or I was until the Holidays.  My &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; 50 lbs lost, is now at 25 lbs lost.  But that is OK.  Day 1 doesn't have ANY days behind it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest change for me, with this new day, is soda.  I love my soda.  I love the taste, I love the "burn" as it fizzes in my mouth and down my throat.  I love it.  However, on HCG, there is no soda.  Water!!!  The 1st two rounds I did, I would start my soda when my HCG was done.  NOT this time.  I am done with pop for the rest of the year!   It is on my blog, and everyone can see it.  I can have soda today (day 1 of HCG) and tomorrow.  After that, never again in 2010 will I have ANY soda.  OH, this is big!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have some personal, private goals.  I may share them throughout the year. 2010 is going to be a good year for me! I love my job...I get to volunteer in each of the kids' classes once a week...I am teaching the 11 year old girls in church (they are the best).  I have family who love me, and friends that I could &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; live without!  I have much to be grateful for, and I can think of no better way to say "thank you" than to live this year the best that I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-5955032476667124735?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/5955032476667124735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=5955032476667124735&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/5955032476667124735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/5955032476667124735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2010/01/day-1.html' title='Day 1'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-5628202905135370206</id><published>2010-01-07T13:29:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T13:35:51.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year</title><content type='html'>The New Year.  I am contemplating my life.  This new year has been very......unreal.  I see the empty calander, and know that I can fill it with anything.  This is my year.  I get to choose who I spend my time with.  I get to choose how I spend my time.  I get to fill my calander full to overflowing, or leave it nearly blank.&lt;br /&gt;I can leave behind the old calanders.  Last year, the year before....they don't have to be on display any longer.  And the things that filled years past don't have to be in my new year!  I am changing what gets scheduled.  I am picking who gets time.  I have a fresh, empty, blank year in front of me, and I am going to use it well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-5628202905135370206?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/5628202905135370206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=5628202905135370206&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/5628202905135370206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/5628202905135370206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year.html' title='New Year'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-1311263203762168960</id><published>2009-12-20T14:59:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T16:22:16.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Ella</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="415" height="428" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ac2153377eab53cd" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dac2153377eab53cd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331208653%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D542F14D59274BAF35F032CCDA321AA07168DD3A9.33DAC3A51D55287B2D654D84F86F18342FC14771%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dac2153377eab53cd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DdP9bSm1UDiWFxs1YLVQ8_rvK5KU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="415" height="428" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dac2153377eab53cd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331208653%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D542F14D59274BAF35F032CCDA321AA07168DD3A9.33DAC3A51D55287B2D654D84F86F18342FC14771%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dac2153377eab53cd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DdP9bSm1UDiWFxs1YLVQ8_rvK5KU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Turn on your sound, grab your tissues.&lt;br /&gt;Brandon, thank you for doing this for me and our Ella.&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-1311263203762168960?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/1311263203762168960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=1311263203762168960&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/1311263203762168960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/1311263203762168960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title='Happy Birthday Ella'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-7907491618901552433</id><published>2009-11-12T13:22:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T13:27:35.718-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas is coming...</title><content type='html'>I am sitting at work, with instructions to take the rest of my day playing around.  So, I just uploaded some Christmas music for our family blog.  I love Christmas music.  However, I am now sobbing.  I am not ready to face Christmas, and missing my mom.  I don't want to remember this time last year.  I don't want to think about my Ella not being here to open presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have such a love-hate relationship with Christmas.  I am able to do the fun things with the kids, and put on a brave face, even when it is really hard.  For that I am grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, be cheery, and listen to the music on www.whitehousehappiness.blogspot.com  maybe it will bring some warm fuzzies into your day!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-7907491618901552433?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/7907491618901552433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=7907491618901552433&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7907491618901552433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7907491618901552433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/11/christmas-is-coming.html' title='Christmas is coming...'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-7401720516403324957</id><published>2009-11-10T21:29:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T21:35:42.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We are coming up on the 1 year anniversary of Ella's birth.  I have mixed emotions.  I cannot believe that a whole year has past, and that I am surviving.  I miss her everyday, and wish that things had ended the way we planned, but I am more comfortable with my "new reality".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas always comes with a bit of sadness for me.  This year I have one more thing to think about.  I am grateful to have my 4 wonderful (mostly) kids, and their smiles and laughs to keep me going.  It would be easy to give up if I didn't have them to live for!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, my darling 5 children.  I am so blessed to be your mom.   I miss you Ella, but it doesn't hurt the way it did...and I know you have helped with that.  I love you mom, please take care of my baby for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will get through this next 2 months because I know that I am not alone.  My friends and family keep me going, and I love you for that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, everyone, for all you do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-7401720516403324957?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/7401720516403324957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=7401720516403324957&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7401720516403324957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7401720516403324957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/11/we-are-coming-up-on-1-year-anniversary.html' title=''/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-2342926489313467302</id><published>2009-10-10T12:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T12:26:21.824-06:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY SATURDAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I AM FEELING ALL SORTS OF ACCOMPLISHED!!!&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;BED MADE?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;FLOOR FOUND?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;LAUNDRY ROTATING?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;KIDS' ROOMS CLEAN?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;(MINUS ALEX) CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;DISHES DONE?&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;GETTING THERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;GROCERIES?&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;LATER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;CLOSET CLEANED?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;DI BAGS OVERFLOWING?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;DINNER STARTED?&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;ARE YOU KIDDING?????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;KITCHEN TABLE VISIBLE?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;HALLOWEEN DECORATIONS?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;4 OF 6 COSTUMES COMPLETED?&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;YEAH!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;FAMILY PICTURES DONE THIS WEEK?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;NEW JOB AWESOME?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;CHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CAN'T THINK OF ANY MORE, BUT IT IS A GREAT DAY.  OH, JUST THOUGHT OF ONE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MEDICATIONS WORKING?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;CHECK, CHECK, CHECK!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-2342926489313467302?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/2342926489313467302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=2342926489313467302&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/2342926489313467302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/2342926489313467302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-saturday.html' title='HAPPY SATURDAY'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-2114550431527683536</id><published>2009-09-04T16:27:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T16:46:24.124-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pity Party!</title><content type='html'>I am feeling sad today. I am not sure why. I am exhausted from canning and freezing veggies all week. Even though I am so grateful for them, if I have to can or grate anything else before Monday, I might loose it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The twins survived their first week of school. They love it. Just like pro's...we pull into the circle, they hop out, "bye mom, love you" and they are gone! I am glad that they are excited, but I am feeling very empty. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SqGYQ7ORgyI/AAAAAAAAAX8/cKZLOW23ZGo/s1600-h/Copy+of+Copy+of+Picture+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377746846599971618" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 306px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SqGYQ7ORgyI/AAAAAAAAAX8/cKZLOW23ZGo/s320/Copy+of+Copy+of+Picture+029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SqGXqAqCs8I/AAAAAAAAAX0/w1LKledlMN0/s1600-h/Copy+of+Picture+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the hardest things about loosing Ella, was that I have had to realize that my twins are my youngest. That was not expected, we always knew we would have another baby after Liv and Al. So, to go from "baby" mode, to "my babies are in Kindergarten" has been hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the freedom in the afternoon, and one of these days, I will use the time productively instead of taking a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend from Junior High just had a baby. He is so cute. I have not seen this friend for several years, probably 4?? But I am so happy for her and their newest family member. BUT, I am so sad. Instead of being able to talk about babies, and what stage mine is at, and how hers is, I feel this void that I can't fill. I am capable of having conversations with people...but suddenly I feel all alone and outcast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bishop, who lost his 15 year old daughter several years ago, has told me: It's like belonging to an exclusive club that you didn't want to join, and can never get out of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That about sums it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-2114550431527683536?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/2114550431527683536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=2114550431527683536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/2114550431527683536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/2114550431527683536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/09/pity-party.html' title='Pity Party!'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SqGYQ7ORgyI/AAAAAAAAAX8/cKZLOW23ZGo/s72-c/Copy+of+Copy+of+Picture+029.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-6163343787989449359</id><published>2009-08-19T22:23:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T22:32:42.374-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SozRgsVylCI/AAAAAAAAAXc/NywyZ-Tfjdk/s1600-h/Picture+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SozRgsVylCI/AAAAAAAAAXc/NywyZ-Tfjdk/s400/Picture+073.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371898815134733346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I am feeling sorry for myself. I have a horrible life! OK, not really. The boys are having a 2-night sleepover at my Auntie Raine's, so I thought the twins could watch a movie on Hudson's bed (the TV is temporarily in there), and have their own sleepover. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, as usual, that didn't happen. They fought, and yelled and spit (newest form of annoying each other). So, then we had to wrestle to bed, and fight and settle all the "It's not fairs"... So, I feel like a failure of a mom, and my kids did NOT have a fun movie night, and I want to burst into tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please tell me I am not the only horrible mother out there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-6163343787989449359?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/6163343787989449359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=6163343787989449359&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6163343787989449359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6163343787989449359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/08/tonight-i-am-feeling-sorry-for-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SozRgsVylCI/AAAAAAAAAXc/NywyZ-Tfjdk/s72-c/Picture+073.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-7034741494703729891</id><published>2009-07-28T20:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T20:46:03.034-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem without a Name</title><content type='html'>To those who look away&lt;br /&gt;when I grow teary-eyed in the baby department,&lt;br /&gt;look a little deeper.&lt;br /&gt;Surely you have some compassion in your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those who change the subject&lt;br /&gt;when we speak our baby's name,&lt;br /&gt;change your way of thinking.&lt;br /&gt;It just might change your whole life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those who roll their eyes and say&lt;br /&gt;that we barely had her at all,&lt;br /&gt;how could we miss her so much,&lt;br /&gt;in our hearts we have seen her live a thousand times.&lt;br /&gt;We have seen her first steps,&lt;br /&gt;her first day of school,&lt;br /&gt;her wedding, and her children.&lt;br /&gt;We have had her forever in our minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those who say we can have another, we did.&lt;br /&gt;I thank God for that everyday,&lt;br /&gt;but even if I have twenty more babies,&lt;br /&gt;I will forever have one in the grave,&lt;br /&gt;and that is one too many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those who say to get on with my life, I have.&lt;br /&gt;It is a different life,&lt;br /&gt;the life of a grieving mother.&lt;br /&gt;One with a tremendous amount to be thankful for,&lt;br /&gt;but also one with a lot to mourn the loss of!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not judge the bereaved mother.&lt;br /&gt;She comes in many forms.&lt;br /&gt;She is breathing, but she is dying.&lt;br /&gt;She may look young, &lt;br /&gt;but inside she has become ancient.&lt;br /&gt;She smiles, but her heart sobs.&lt;br /&gt;She walks, she talks, she cooks, &lt;br /&gt;she cleans, she works,&lt;br /&gt;she IS, but she IS NOT, all at once.&lt;br /&gt;She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not dismiss us; &lt;br /&gt;we have shaped more than just the future generation.&lt;br /&gt;We have released all the tiny angels who are watching over you.&lt;br /&gt;Open your eyes to US,&lt;br /&gt;and you just might see THEM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Author Unknown&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-7034741494703729891?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/7034741494703729891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=7034741494703729891&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7034741494703729891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7034741494703729891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/07/poem-without-name.html' title='Poem without a Name'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-8518077034983645925</id><published>2009-07-13T17:38:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T18:00:47.106-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ella Marie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-e5.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=3530822107882200805&amp;amp;site=widget-e5.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3530822107882200805&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-e5.slide.com/p1/3530822107882200805/bb_t001_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3530822107882200805&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-e5.slide.com/p2/3530822107882200805/bb_t001_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;at=un&amp;id=3530822107882200805&amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-e5.slide.com/p4/3530822107882200805/bb_t001_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Today marks the 7 month anniversary of my Ella's birth, and death.  I miss her so much. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-8518077034983645925?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/8518077034983645925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=8518077034983645925&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8518077034983645925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8518077034983645925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/07/ella-marie.html' title='Ella Marie'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-6497720466718044053</id><published>2009-07-06T17:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T17:34:52.908-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pity Party</title><content type='html'>I would like to invite you all to my pity party. It is happening right now. I don't know why, or what triggered it, I am just sad.&lt;br /&gt;Church is so hard. I go to sacrament with the family, but I cannot stay for the whole block. I get too emotional and there are too many babies. I don't know what to do to change this. I just am usually down Sunday evening, and quite often into Monday. But today is especially, ummm, sad. I want to curl up and be alone. But, my four restless kids will have none of that!&lt;br /&gt;Some days it is easy to be content and find joy in my regular life. I can see the sun shining, or even the rain clouds, and be happy. I am patient and loving and understanding of my kids. I am a great person.&lt;br /&gt;BUT...then the tide changes, or the phases of the moon, or whatever. I find no joy in my fun bright flowers we just planted (that I got for free)! I look at my scrapbook corner and don't care that I could work on stuff...I should be too busy with a baby to work on stuff. Doing things with my kids is torture (can't you just entertain yourself for a while?). Today is one of those days.&lt;br /&gt;I am hoping to wake up on a different side of the bed tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-6497720466718044053?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/6497720466718044053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=6497720466718044053&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6497720466718044053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6497720466718044053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/07/pity-party.html' title='Pity Party'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-6554033363441705837</id><published>2009-06-10T17:07:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T17:20:13.680-06:00</updated><title type='text'>SCRAPBOOK CORNER</title><content type='html'>We have had a couple of yard sales, and have gone through many boxes in our basement, and sold or threw out or donated a TON of stuff. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, one of Brandon's major annoyances is that my scrapbook stuff is stored in our room (closet shelves, drawers, my big trunk). He is so patient! But...if we move the toys under the stairs, then I can set up a table in this corner, and set up my scrapbook stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-kckXo3I/AAAAAAAAAVU/aNE2yQ8n6zo/s1600-h/Picture+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345841553553728370" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-kckXo3I/AAAAAAAAAVU/aNE2yQ8n6zo/s200/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-ksxzMYI/AAAAAAAAAVc/pXus_Ro4p8g/s1600-h/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345841557905027458" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-ksxzMYI/AAAAAAAAAVc/pXus_Ro4p8g/s200/Picture+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-lHjLKbI/AAAAAAAAAVs/V2zUvJ1YRJM/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345841565091441074" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-lHjLKbI/AAAAAAAAAVs/V2zUvJ1YRJM/s200/Picture+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-l73v7aI/AAAAAAAAAV0/SheWOiL9Xr0/s1600-h/Picture+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345841579136380322" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-l73v7aI/AAAAAAAAAV0/SheWOiL9Xr0/s200/Picture+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-k6_2_UI/AAAAAAAAAVk/jamDS0hs6hc/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345841561722092866" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-k6_2_UI/AAAAAAAAAVk/jamDS0hs6hc/s200/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, here are some pictures of my space. It is pathetic, I know, but it is MINE! I have 12 cubes/squares/cubbies and 2 rolling carts with drawers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I need advice on how to use my limited space effectively. So, I am open for any and all suggestions. And yes, I will be getting some more lighting in here!&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/2801264433981279011-6554033363441705837?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/6554033363441705837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=6554033363441705837&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6554033363441705837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6554033363441705837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/06/scrapbook-corner.html' title='SCRAPBOOK CORNER'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SjA-kckXo3I/AAAAAAAAAVU/aNE2yQ8n6zo/s72-c/Picture+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-5108449560499742573</id><published>2009-05-31T23:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T23:22:02.259-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SiNlaInbBCI/AAAAAAAAAVM/-Z6SZCoUI3E/s1600-h/Copy+of+Picture+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342225082655376418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 328px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SiNlaInbBCI/AAAAAAAAAVM/-Z6SZCoUI3E/s400/Copy+of+Picture+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just blogged about my darling Olivia. I am so, so, so, so grateful to have her. She makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;But I am sitting here missing my "girls" -notice the S-. I was so looking forward to having "girls". I would have made matching easter dresses. Found bracelets that were the same for both of them (or all 3 of us). Liv and Ella matching hair bows! Sister pictures! Liv being the "big sister". I am just sad that Liv and I are going to be the only girls in our family for a long, long, long (are you kids all seeing this?) long, long, long time.&lt;br /&gt;Thank heavens for my twins that gave me my Princess Olivia!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-5108449560499742573?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/5108449560499742573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=5108449560499742573&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/5108449560499742573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/5108449560499742573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/05/girls.html' title='Girls'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SiNlaInbBCI/AAAAAAAAAVM/-Z6SZCoUI3E/s72-c/Copy+of+Picture+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-7128085229642748168</id><published>2009-05-30T14:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T14:22:34.610-06:00</updated><title type='text'>GARAGE SALE</title><content type='html'>So, yesterday Brandon and I were trying to figure out a way to not bounce any checks til payday...the logical conclusion was "Garage Sale". We spent yesterday afternoon finding things, and many, many, many, many minutes putting together kids puzzles (all the pieces in 1 BIG box, 25 puzzles; you get the picture).&lt;br /&gt;So, to bed at 2:30am, (Brandon was after 4am)alarm off at 6:30am to run to Winegars for lemonade for the kids to sell (killing 2 birds with 1 stone!!) and get change.&lt;br /&gt;So, from 8-12 we sat in the sun, and entertained the neighborhood kids, and sold $116.47 worth of stuff! All stuff that was just in the house -gone-. Oh, I love it. But, there were a lot of things left, and since we didn't plan and dig deeper into the basement, we will be having another sale next week. So don't forget us on your Saturday planning!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-7128085229642748168?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/7128085229642748168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=7128085229642748168&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7128085229642748168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/7128085229642748168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/05/garage-sale.html' title='GARAGE SALE'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-1985432899741400302</id><published>2009-05-28T21:25:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:30:04.815-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An Ugly Pair of Shoes</title><content type='html'>I am wearing a pair of shoes.&lt;br /&gt;They are ugly shoes.&lt;br /&gt;Uncomfortable Shoes.&lt;br /&gt;I hate my shoes.&lt;br /&gt;Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.&lt;br /&gt;Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I continue to wear them.&lt;br /&gt;I get funny looks wearing these shoes.&lt;br /&gt;They are looks of sympathy.&lt;br /&gt;I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.&lt;br /&gt;They never talk about my shoes.&lt;br /&gt;To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.&lt;br /&gt;But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.&lt;br /&gt;I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.&lt;br /&gt;There are many pairs in the world.&lt;br /&gt;Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.&lt;br /&gt;Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.&lt;br /&gt;Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by&lt;br /&gt;before they think of how much they hurt.&lt;br /&gt;No woman deserves to wear these shoes.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, because of the shoes I am a stronger woman.&lt;br /&gt;These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.&lt;br /&gt;They have made me who I am.&lt;br /&gt;I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**I borrowed this poem from Ella's angel friend, Olivia.  It was on her blog last month.**&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-1985432899741400302?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/1985432899741400302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=1985432899741400302&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/1985432899741400302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/1985432899741400302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/05/ugly-pair-of-shoes.html' title='An Ugly Pair of Shoes'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-5935646812196772348</id><published>2009-05-12T21:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T21:47:30.192-06:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Months</title><content type='html'>Today I find myself thinking back to December 12, 2008 and what we were doing at 9:29 pm.  We were in the hospital, laboring for our youngest baby to be born, &lt;em&gt; still&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has categories of time (like, childhood/growing up).   Then my teenage years, divided by "before I met Brandon" or "after I met Brandon" (like, when I last went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Disneyland&lt;/span&gt;, "I think it was the year before I met Brandon").  Then we have the "before Brandon's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mission"&lt;/span&gt;, or "when we first got married".  There was not a name for the time when we were starting our family, but there is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt;  a distinction &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;known&lt;/span&gt; as "before the twins" and "after the twins".  Now I have a new dividing life event.  Before we lost the baby, and after we lost the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't refer to my sweet baby as Ella.  I call her "the baby", or "my baby".  I think it is too personal to call her by name.  I always think of her as my Ella Marie, but this is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; I keep close to me, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; from all others, even my closest friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing how different my life is from what we had expected sometimes takes my breath away.  It has been 5 months since I laid my baby, dressed and wrapped in love-filled, homemade things; yet it feels like no time has passed.  I am so often in a fog of life.  I am doing what I have to for my family, and others around me, but I am not acting my true feelings.  I don't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; how to do that.  I have always kept things inside me, and this is no different.  I smile, and chat cheerfully, but the sparkle and passion for life is not in it.  I am acting a part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that my life is this.  I hate that one of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;differentiating&lt;/span&gt; time frames will forever be "before" or "after" the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sweet angle, I love You.  I wish I could have you with me.  I long to hold and snuggle you.  I will never again nurse a baby.  I will never again teach a baby to sit, crawl, walk, say new words.  I will never again be whole.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-5935646812196772348?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/5935646812196772348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=5935646812196772348&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/5935646812196772348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/5935646812196772348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/05/5-months.html' title='5 Months'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-3015159285522583632</id><published>2009-04-29T21:06:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T21:16:28.077-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SfkWc4rWRdI/AAAAAAAAAUU/gjDfCgoi7Ak/s1600-h/Copy+of+close+up+on+stairs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330316319476041170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 332px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 351px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SfkWc4rWRdI/AAAAAAAAAUU/gjDfCgoi7Ak/s400/Copy+of+close+up+on+stairs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Each time we scrap we take a group photo, well, several actually. Then we all print them up and keep them close to remember our friendships. Then we take a bunch of individuals too. It is a fun tradition. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the best parts is that we try to stay in the same condo, room c302, each time because we love the layout. Well, this is the 3rd time we have left a framed 5x7 picture in this families condo. They are still there. We just love this particular room, and the family must not mind our pictures.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Funny story...the bother-in-law of one of us stayed in these condos over the winter, and called to say that he was looking at a picture of her and a bunch of friends!!! Hilarious!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thanks ladies for a great weekend!!!!! Love all you Sassy gals!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-3015159285522583632?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/3015159285522583632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=3015159285522583632&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/3015159285522583632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/3015159285522583632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/04/each-time-we-scrap-we-take-group-photo.html' title=''/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/SfkWc4rWRdI/AAAAAAAAAUU/gjDfCgoi7Ak/s72-c/Copy+of+close+up+on+stairs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-1215951177906745584</id><published>2009-04-22T22:17:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T13:05:36.388-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sassy</title><content type='html'>I love being a Sassy Scrappin' Sister. My girlfriends and I go to Park City each spring and fall to scrap, and chat, and hot-tub, and eat junk, and stay up late cuz' we can sleep in (NO KIDS). I have less than 24 hours until I am up at "retreat"! &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Se_t4iZxfEI/AAAAAAAAATk/yj69if8OQ18/s1600-h/Copy+(5)+of+100_4890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327738439765949506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Se_t4iZxfEI/AAAAAAAAATk/yj69if8OQ18/s320/Copy+(5)+of+100_4890.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sassy's, you know I love you. You have all been there for me the last few months of tears and hell. I am so thankful that you were brought into my life. You each bring something with you, that is just part of who you are, that makes me be a better "me". Love Ya&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Front Row: JenJen, Ali, Deanna &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back Row: Chan, Laura, Catrina, Trena, Jen&lt;br /&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/2801264433981279011-1215951177906745584?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/1215951177906745584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=1215951177906745584&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/1215951177906745584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/1215951177906745584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/04/sassy.html' title='Sassy'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Se_t4iZxfEI/AAAAAAAAATk/yj69if8OQ18/s72-c/Copy+(5)+of+100_4890.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-8331052746203926606</id><published>2009-04-17T19:52:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T20:18:55.589-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Texas</title><content type='html'>Maybe not many of you know that I was born in Texas. Well, I was. Our family moved when I was like, 4 or 5 years old. I have now been there 2 times in 2 years. It is beautiful, at least Houston is. Two years ago we had time to go to Galveston and see the Gulf of Mexico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sek1MDG_2NI/AAAAAAAAATU/ChCUeaoJA9k/s1600-h/Copy+of+Raging+Waters+and+Texas+168.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325846515451680978" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sek1MDG_2NI/AAAAAAAAATU/ChCUeaoJA9k/s200/Copy+of+Raging+Waters+and+Texas+168.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My two siblings were also born in Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sek0ZypU7ZI/AAAAAAAAATE/9RHzbdXra2s/s1600-h/Copy+of+white+family+pictures+2007+182.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sek0ZypU7ZI/AAAAAAAAATE/9RHzbdXra2s/s1600-h/Copy+of+white+family+pictures+2007+182.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325845652038806930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 199px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sek0ZypU7ZI/AAAAAAAAATE/9RHzbdXra2s/s200/Copy+of+white+family+pictures+2007+182.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325846113163286242" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sek00od-FuI/AAAAAAAAATM/-zsCBaYRoNQ/s200/Copy+of+Picture+137.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In some weird twist of fate, they are both living in Texas. David and his family are stationed in El Paso. Julie just got married last week, and is now living in Houston.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I have no desire to live in Texas. I would love to come visit, but there are no urgings to "find my roots"!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-8331052746203926606?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/8331052746203926606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=8331052746203926606&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8331052746203926606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8331052746203926606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/04/texas.html' title='Texas'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sek1MDG_2NI/AAAAAAAAATU/ChCUeaoJA9k/s72-c/Copy+of+Raging+Waters+and+Texas+168.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-3338285556249567625</id><published>2009-04-06T17:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T18:01:49.918-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Conference</title><content type='html'>So, I saw very little of conference, but I did see the whole Sunday Morning session, and heard  a fabulous quote.  President Monson said in the Priesthood Session, just the night before  "God will shape our back to fit the load we must carry."  Ok, maybe that is not an exact quote, but pretty close.  It gave &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; something to think about???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-3338285556249567625?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/3338285556249567625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=3338285556249567625&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/3338285556249567625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/3338285556249567625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/04/conference.html' title='Conference'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-2482112784948465856</id><published>2009-04-03T21:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T21:49:54.421-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Working!</title><content type='html'>I have now had 2 days at my new job, and it was great!!!  They are a busy place, and I was just thrown in. "Hey Laura, that is your phone ringing!"  Ummm, ok  "Family Tree Assisted Living, How may I help you?"  NO training,  just: answer the phone!  There are some really nice residents, and some I have been warned about, like one man that you should NEVER hug!!  And the lady who locks each individual item of dirty clothing into separate Ziploc bags.  No joke!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so busy Wednesday that we didn't get much done, so I went in Thursday too, and got some more training, and actually got the Easter decorations up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am really going to enjoy this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-2482112784948465856?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/2482112784948465856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=2482112784948465856&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/2482112784948465856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/2482112784948465856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/04/working.html' title='Working!'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-8475263606179370824</id><published>2009-03-31T15:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T15:38:18.482-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Job!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;So, I had an interview today, and it went really well.  It was short, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt; sweet.  They said they had a couple more interviews today, and they would let me know by 5pm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;Well, at 2:00 she called and asked if I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; interested...um, yeah!  So, I start tomorrow!  I am going to go in tomorrow and do some paperwork and put out the Easter decorations!  Fun huh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-8475263606179370824?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/8475263606179370824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=8475263606179370824&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8475263606179370824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/8475263606179370824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-job.html' title='New Job!!!'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-6141839804545228395</id><published>2009-03-29T09:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T09:58:02.505-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News</title><content type='html'>Lets try a happy post, shall we? &lt;br /&gt;I am looking for a job, and have had very little luck, as have many others.  Then a couple of weeks ago, I did some networking!  I got on my facebook page, and actually commented!  Amazing, huh?  Within minutes I had several responses from friends that knew of something.&lt;br /&gt;The most exciting response was about a retirement home within walking distance from our house.  The owner is in our ward, and they had announced in RS that they were needing a part time receptionist.&lt;br /&gt;I called and talked to the owners wife, and she told me to contact the administrator.  The next day, I called her, and made an appointment to fill out an application.  We had a mini-interview, and I felt it went good.  So, 2-3 days later, I called to check up with her, and she hadn't thought any more about it (they are opening another home, so they have a lot going on).  "Great, I just wanted to keep in touch!"&lt;br /&gt;So, a week went by, and I called again.  "Hi, its Laura.  I wondered if you and the lead RN have a time ready to meet with me?" (assume the sale, right?)  We chatted, and she is still slammed, but she will do an interview next week. &lt;br /&gt;"Thanks," I said.  "I don't want to annoy you, but I am super interested." blah blah blah&lt;br /&gt;" Don't worry, you aren't bugging me," she said.  "You are following through, and being persistent!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long story short (or is it too late?)  She called Saturday, and I have an interview Tuesday at 11:30, with the lead RN and her (the administrator)!  I hope and pray that this will work out.  The hours would work great with the kids school schedule, and it is so close to my house.  I'll keep ya'll posted!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-6141839804545228395?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/6141839804545228395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=6141839804545228395&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6141839804545228395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6141839804545228395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-news.html' title='Good News'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-6532245836009101412</id><published>2009-03-28T17:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T17:44:20.781-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Children + HOA = Mental Breakdown</title><content type='html'>Children.  You've got to love them, but sometimes... this is why I have a separate blog, so I can vent.  They are driving me up the wall.  Is there a reason that kids have to touch each other, like all the time.  In the car, "he touched me";  eating dinner "she touched me".  I have had it.  I told them tonight that if eating was going to be like this, that we would just stop eating.  Talk about an empty threat.  But, really???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of which, I am super stressed.  Some of you know that I am the secretary of our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;HOA&lt;/span&gt;.  Not a huge deal.  Take minutes at the meetings, keep the spreadsheet of homeowners up to date.  Nothing major.  Well, today, I had an email from a neighbor that their new neighbor was putting up a wooden fence (it must be white vinyl).  Great, I'll check with the president and someone will get over there.  Then, a phone call about same fence.  "yeah" I said, "I am going to call Rick right now".  She tells me, she just talked to Rick, and he resigned as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;HOA&lt;/span&gt; president yesterday...and in the absence of a president, all presidential duties fall to the secretary!  ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I spent the morning talking to this very nice, new family (well, the wife) and telling her that she cannot put up her fence, and her garbage cans have to be behind the house, etc.  Oh, and by the way, I know you are just renters, but the owner of this house hasn't paid his dues, and so we will have to collect them from you, plus all the accrued late fees!!!  Welcome to the neighborhood!&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully she was very nice, and understanding.  T&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; fence is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;temporary&lt;/span&gt; until the vinyl is installed to keep her 3 big dogs in their yard. ( the covenants state that you can only have 2 dogs...we'll cover that another day!!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-6532245836009101412?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/6532245836009101412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=6532245836009101412&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6532245836009101412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/6532245836009101412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/03/children-hoa-mental-breakdown.html' title='Children + HOA = Mental Breakdown'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-1499828267844245455</id><published>2009-03-26T12:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T09:58:44.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dentist</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, seriously, why do we have dentists? I am glad that they are able to fix our teeth, and that we don't have to suffer with painful aching teeth, or let them rot. So maybe my question should be, Why did God make teeth that can get cavities (or root canals, or crack etc.)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had more dental problems in the last year, then in my whole life. Last February, I needed a root canal on one of my bottom molars. &lt;strong&gt;Apparently&lt;/strong&gt; I have the longest roots EVER! They had to take several x-rays at increasingly higher angles to even see the bottom of my roots. So, welcome to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;endodontist&lt;/span&gt; (root canal specialist). Goodbye $600.00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July, second root canal, same side, only upper tooth. I had it fixed, but not crowned. I was still having morning sickness, and they said that the temporary cover should last til after the baby. So, goodbye $400.00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For several weeks, I have noticed that I could see through my front tooth. Like there was a hole behind it, and light was getting through. Well, that is exactly what it was. Plus 4 other cavities, and a crown for my last root canal! My morning was spent getting my whole mouth numb (of course all the cavities aren't together. 1 on top left, 1 bottom left, 1 top right, 1 bottom right). So 2 hours later, all fixed up, I cannot feel my mouth, or nose, or chin. I know that I am biting my cheek raw, but I can't help it!. Goodbye $400.00 more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I hate the dentist!!!!! He didn't even give me a prize!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-1499828267844245455?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/1499828267844245455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=1499828267844245455&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/1499828267844245455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/1499828267844245455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/03/dentist.html' title='Dentist'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2801264433981279011.post-3286591602730198688</id><published>2009-03-24T10:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T10:32:52.397-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow</title><content type='html'>I am feeling sad today.  There is no reason, I just am.  Yesterday was a good day.  The kids all had a day out of school, and we had some fun, and did some homework.  Dentist appointments, dinner and a movie rounded out the night.  Yet, at the end of the day, I felt deflated.  How can such a busy, packed, accomplishing day leave you feeling empty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling the loss of what would have been.  My Ella would be about 6 weeks old.  I miss her.  I wish she were here.  My house would not have gotten cleaned yesterday, and I am sure that my stress would have been great, trying to do homework, piano practice, reading, fun time, appointments and everything else.  But, when it comes right down to it, I don't care. What would I have done with another child to care for?  I just miss her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow?  I don't know.  Sometimes these "slumps" are short-lived.  Other times they turn into a full fledged breakdown.  I want to be strong, and I think that I am learning to feel my sadness, and then move on quicker than before.  My hope is that tomorrow will be a better day.  I know it will be a new day, and for now, that may have to be enough!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2801264433981279011-3286591602730198688?l=dailystresses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/feeds/3286591602730198688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2801264433981279011&amp;postID=3286591602730198688&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/3286591602730198688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2801264433981279011/posts/default/3286591602730198688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dailystresses.blogspot.com/2009/03/yesterday-today-and-tomorrow.html' title='Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow'/><author><name>...at the White house...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12850219934346716889</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hiIJ74qcCkQ/Sz5-l25bMhI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/m9yosp8RLR0/S220/045+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
