tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10908045933686992242024-03-05T04:54:50.697-08:00The Honey PotHoney and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-43772195088067487902021-12-16T16:50:00.000-08:002021-12-16T16:50:17.327-08:00Bah! Humbug!<p> According the pop culture dictionary the phrase "Bah! Humbug!": is an exclamation that conveys curmudgeonly displeasure. The phrase is most famously used by Ebenezer Scrooge from Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol published in 1843. This character was most famously portrayed by actors such as Micheal Caine in "The Muppets Christmas Carol", George C. Scott, Jim Carrey, Sir Patrick Stewart and Christopher Plummer. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTE_3vqk75Qr8oCx9hzw2hnq_8gDNaZuWi1yn7e4qxboaDAjja-YqJXyIQ863dVSBP27dzMxczecLzxhArOp_wx2xMYsjB_pKU2bnXsz-YoJ5W9xkMNCDic-nsSEa5PKPvy8tw0AmpSo/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="240" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTE_3vqk75Qr8oCx9hzw2hnq_8gDNaZuWi1yn7e4qxboaDAjja-YqJXyIQ863dVSBP27dzMxczecLzxhArOp_wx2xMYsjB_pKU2bnXsz-YoJ5W9xkMNCDic-nsSEa5PKPvy8tw0AmpSo/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Bah! Humbug! This phrase sums up perfectly my extreme dislike for Christmas. </p><p>In case you missed it and LOUDER for the people in the back: <b>I DO NOT LIKE CHRISTMAS! </b> I have a curmudgeonly displeasure regarding Christmas. In fact, if we never celebrated the holiday ever again I would not be sad. And yes, I just heard your audible gasps and silent judging. </p><p>Yes, I am a Christian and I know Jesus is the reason for the season. Yes, I know how to keep Christ in Christmas. But Christmas isn't about Christ; most especially for Christians. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIUiGh5NtxCwpDQPzNzXV1g7culciXF1Njd3waFwQ0QP3YUBrsOUn4e_I7r0k40uKHvLPvaVR3_amzA17kOvZJuPCs6ukktExAYZZ3-WxGYGcXdQH2QGWUIotvgC9GQ1D8ys3FYLykro/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="355" data-original-width="498" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIUiGh5NtxCwpDQPzNzXV1g7culciXF1Njd3waFwQ0QP3YUBrsOUn4e_I7r0k40uKHvLPvaVR3_amzA17kOvZJuPCs6ukktExAYZZ3-WxGYGcXdQH2QGWUIotvgC9GQ1D8ys3FYLykro/" width="320" /></a></div><br />So why don't I like Christmas....Let's start with the Man Himself! <div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8aZkLf9cZ8vph4dnxIbwmtx-PFB6zemNpeY3VmwIHPsFTWzSdCPsLDKvsyNLmFgNUcyvoJW1zmG7_8CVCQvbIhjtxP0bKv0F5lnHygM86bWkMsiI5D2H7hZVHp2rVaxo3-fxvdk4oXE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8aZkLf9cZ8vph4dnxIbwmtx-PFB6zemNpeY3VmwIHPsFTWzSdCPsLDKvsyNLmFgNUcyvoJW1zmG7_8CVCQvbIhjtxP0bKv0F5lnHygM86bWkMsiI5D2H7hZVHp2rVaxo3-fxvdk4oXE/" width="320" /></a></div></div><div>Santa Claus, Jolly ol' St. Nicholas, Kris Kringle. The lie. When my husband and I were first married, many years ago B.C. (before children) he made the request that we do not have Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy or none of the mythical creatures and traditions for our children. I was at a lost for words. What were we supposed to do? Not lie to our children? I asked him why he wanted it this way. His response shook me: "Because when we finally tell our children that all of these things were fake, I do not want them to question if God is real."<br /><p>It made absolute sense to me. So when our oldest was born and for her first Christmas, Santa was no where to be found. Our children have been given the truth, that all of this comes from Mom and Dad. I have been judged by this decision because this lie is the magic of Christmas. The "magic" is a lie.... think about that for minute. Both of my kids have known the truth that Santa is a part of the Christmas Spirit of giving. That he came from the story of a monk named Nicholas who did great deeds but the commercialized Santa Claus isn't real. We also taught our children that many other children believe he is real. We taught our children to not disrespect the belief of others. What others believe and do not believe is their own and we should never belittle their truths. </p><p>I tend to roll my eyes during that Sunday School lesson that reminds us that all blessings come from God and we need to recognize and give thanks to God for what he did for us. It is inevitable that someone always mentions Christmas morning when their kids open their presents and give thanks to Santa Claus and not to the parents who did the work. The feeling expressed is one of sadness that they, the parents, were not properly thanked (insert eye roll here). Frankly, you set yourself up to not be thanked. </p><p>I grew up with the idea of Santa Claus. I was 6 years old when I was told he wasn't real and that it was simply my parents who gave me all of my gifts. This was devastating but as I got older it made sense. I couldn't understand that I had been good all year and I would see a kid in my class who bullied and made fun of others getting lavish Christmases and gifts while I had been the good girl and got very little; not knowing it was all my parents could afford. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLcIOFDv2q6_6vOK2rQ2RRqkf7jUymGPoEQwJUhSE2nm4bt9hzvuwIw0GQ4P2gZHAid0fudZc-rz9p3CVCY78xpHNaC4_K1Yk5sIzwBQ9BkOcYIMUPzaMjjWt2ZMBBEbrsNfM5H9VruJo/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="370" data-original-width="600" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLcIOFDv2q6_6vOK2rQ2RRqkf7jUymGPoEQwJUhSE2nm4bt9hzvuwIw0GQ4P2gZHAid0fudZc-rz9p3CVCY78xpHNaC4_K1Yk5sIzwBQ9BkOcYIMUPzaMjjWt2ZMBBEbrsNfM5H9VruJo/" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When I was about 4 years old, I remember fighting with my brother. My mother threatened me with cancelling Christmas if we wouldn't stop fighting. Her words were that she would put a note on the door telling Santa to not bring us presents because we were naughty. Looking back, I was willing to be good for a man that did not exist before I would be good for Jesus. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As true Christians, Santa Claus is an ideal that we have given to our children that places a fictitious character before our God. (See Commandment #1). If your intent is to focus on Christ and put Christ back in Christmas, the fat man and his elf must go. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPDpKVeeVPwRtUv5bt16qT-3ewt3BljvZbDgarKUcPE83GzgDmtEBPyOMdQq_93Zzxg2BwGs9DYVmJNEXJEqShQSBiHMnw93zfolF6lGXWsUuqZf5if5RKSClVWaE9UZnoU993I4F_ByM/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPDpKVeeVPwRtUv5bt16qT-3ewt3BljvZbDgarKUcPE83GzgDmtEBPyOMdQq_93Zzxg2BwGs9DYVmJNEXJEqShQSBiHMnw93zfolF6lGXWsUuqZf5if5RKSClVWaE9UZnoU993I4F_ByM/" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I do enjoy Christmas music- all nine of them! Let's face it, there are few Christmas songs and we listen to a remix of each. This year I have officially banned the song Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Why? Think about it. A reindeer is bullied because he is different. No one steps into help him - not even Santa until Santa realizes that Rudolph can do something for him. You may argue that this is a song to celebrate our differences and I can agree with that. But if Rudolph didn't have a red shiny nose but was missing a leg and could not help Santa? Would it still be a story that celebrates our differences? It is a song that doesn't encourage us to celebrate our differences unless that difference can selfishly serve us. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihs8rpJDySkxfGOqmVQvaHzSL7YHP_qekbNKGUjjJL6i_u3NAKxO2GYOv3GLmUdHCwQIkdM953kc5V4M4RdcsMZX29szvoKBx0TCIgwQBj1Usc3wTnaeFQTxtJRVeIkE2rCz_AqLFpakU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="628" data-original-width="1200" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihs8rpJDySkxfGOqmVQvaHzSL7YHP_qekbNKGUjjJL6i_u3NAKxO2GYOv3GLmUdHCwQIkdM953kc5V4M4RdcsMZX29szvoKBx0TCIgwQBj1Usc3wTnaeFQTxtJRVeIkE2rCz_AqLFpakU/" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Christmas is also about gift giving and so for someone like me, whose love language is Gifts (giving and receiving) - this should be the greatest day of the year for me. RIGHT!?!?! No. Not at all actually. When I was a teenager, Christmas was a meager event. I had a single mother who did her best. She would take me shopping for Christmas with her to help pick out gifts for my siblings. At the same time, I would get my gifts too. But I would have to wrap them and wait until Christmas to open them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I became an adult, got married and had kids, Christmases didn't get any better. I have had many Christmases where I received nothing but gave to everyone. In order to keep the peace at Christmas with my husband and within my marriage, I pay for it. ALL of it. The food, the gifts, the cards, the decorations. All of it. My only husbands only responsibility is to take care of the cost for our Christmas movie; that was the compromised made. I share this with you not for pity but to show you how much this holiday hurts. In a holiday that should feed my love language, it starves it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The expression of my dislike for Christmas isn't only about the gifts. I love giving gifts! I love seeing the look on my children faces when they tear into the perfectly wrapped paper or bag. I love the joy I see from others when I have given them a gift thought out and one that reflects them. That does not go away just because I did not get anything in return. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Finally, I dislike Christmas because it seems it is only time of year that people care to give to charity. Why can't you give to charity because it is a Wednesday? Why does it only have to occur for 31 days out of 365 days of the year? I have heard preached over the pulpit that we should carry the Christmas Spirit in our hearts all year long. Let's be honest, who does? Who is willing to share the love the other 334 days of the year? People aren't not just in need during December. July is a great time to serve and give back to our communities. <p></p><p>Christmas is a week away and while it seems like I am a disgruntled elf, I am really not. I am a good Christian woman searching for the true meaning of Christmas. To me it is a celebration of the birth of My Savior, Jesus Christ. Due to the demands of the season, I find it hard to see that celebration when everything about the holiday distracts from it. It tells lies, feeds our inner narcissist, tells our inner child that they are not good enough because they got a small or no Christmas at all and distracts from the peace that so many search for. </p><p>Christmas time is a time of traditions that bring good memories and people together. Christmas is a time for us to be, not just better Christians, but better Humans. Now is the time that we need to truly let go of the traditions and a holiday that starve us emotionally, physically and spiritually. There is goodness to be found in Christmas but for now, I see that the current expectations/traditions starves me more than it feeds me. </p><p>BAH! Humbug! </p></div>Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-18916287892731047612021-11-29T16:58:00.000-08:002021-11-29T16:58:14.727-08:00Are you there??? It's Me... Honey<p> Once upon a time, I had a blog. Actually, I had two of them; one for my family and the other for myself. I used the one blog to keep my family updated with of course, my family. The other - this HONEY POT, I used for myself. I used it to express my feelings and thoughts. Now is as good of time as any to come back to this blog. </p><p>Blogging... the genesis of the "influencer". Also known as the generator of lifestyle porn. Then... Like My Space, "Blogging" became a thing of the past. </p><p>Since no one comes to read these things anymore, I guess the internet is the safest place to bear your soul. Or at least get paid for faking the ideal lifestyle. </p><p><b>"No Success can compensate for failure in the home" </b></p><p>I grew up in the world, where a women's only value was and still is their ability to bear children. Along with the bearing and rearing of children, you must keep the ideal, pristine and perfect home. As a woman, your value is also based upon your ability to sew, cook, clean and sacrifice yourself in the pursuit of creating a "Heavenly Home." And those kids that you bear, are supposed to be perfect. To define that perfection: it is a flawlessly put together photo worthy child(ren); no mess, flawless hair and clothing, sitting statue still obediently. (Think... Instagram worthy photos, or Pintrest Pictures but in real life - all of the F***ing time). </p><p>That picture perfect child portrays a standard to all mothers, telling us that this is what/how your child should look, act, think and do. And if your child cannot meet that standards then you are a failure. And to complete this picture, you must maintain a that slim figure, meet the current beauty standards of the world and serve your husband sexually (with the knowledge that you are meant to deny your own sexual needs/identity). </p><p>When the quote, "No Success can compensate for failure in the home" is uttered, it isn't speaking necessarily to fathers or husbands. That quote is always directed towards women. It is a warning to not work outside your home. It is warning that to pursue your potential is wrong. It is a statement that places the future of your family entirely upon your shoulders. You're autonomy and identity is not longer yours- it belongs to your husband and children. Sure, you can pursue an education.... until your husband comes along. Then it is your job to make sure his education comes first but once your first child is born, you no longer are meant for anything other than your husband and children. </p><p>I still live in that world. Except... I am not the mother who stayed home. The choice to do so was never given to me. I have children who have those picture perfect moments but realistically are their own person; messy, disobedient and individuals learning to be good humans. I am not the same weight I was when I got married 20 years ago; my figure is more round than slim. I didn't meet the beauty standards of my high school years, I am most certainly am not going to be able to meet them in my adult years. This doesn't mean I didn't stay active or have a healthy lifestyle, it simply means I am not the girl called Lucky who fit into her size 0 jeans, 2 weeks after giving birth...every time. </p><p>I experience the mixed message of: embrace who you are but you have to do it within the confines of these expectations. Strangely enough, I can see the fallacy of the make believe world of perfection. I can see the lies being told. So why do I feel and see only failure? </p><p><b>"My Angel Mother" </b></p><p><i>All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother. -Abraham Lincoln </i></p><p>As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, in April and October of each year we have the opportunity to hear from the leaders of our church. Without failure, someone give a talk and includes their standard of Motherhood. This story includes mother getting up one to two hours before everyone so they can read their scriptures, dress and prepare for the day (hair and makeup included), make breakfast and lunch for all of their children (husbands included), have family time (scripture study and prayer) in the morning before everyone leaves for school and work. They are the PTA president, the chair of something to some community group, serve the widows down the street and makes sure that dinner (made from scratch) was on the table in time for father to arrive home. She also has the ability to sew, cook, bake, craft and keep a spotless home all to the standard of perfection. </p><p>For those women who could and do do that - I commend you. There is honor your identity. </p><p>For the rest of us; there is still honor in your identity.</p><p>The problem of stories like these create a questioning of our own selves. I am not the "Angel Mother" I was expected to turn into. Because of this I have those dark days that I question on whether or not I should have had children or even gotten married. I obviously did not meet the standards set forth by my family, culture and religion. So once again, I feel and see only failure. </p><p><b>The Reality of Who I am</b></p><p> I know the pain of not being able to get out of bed. I know the reality and guilt of letting my kids make their own lunch in elementary school and failing to make dinner seven nights in a row. I couldn't be the room Mom because I worked and when I volunteered to help in other ways, I was rejected. I finally gave up on scripture time and family prayer with my family in order to keep the peace with my children. I attend church without my children every Sunday. </p><p>I am not the "Angel Mother" I was expected to turn into. </p><p>I suffer from depression, anxiety and PTSD. I take medication and see a psychiatrist and therapist for these conditions. I am an overachieving people pleaser. I have Fibromyalgia and recently had to have my spine fused do to arthritis, stenosis and compression. Due to other health issues, I have had 8 surgeries in the last 21 years. Yet, the voice of my culture tells me that my health is no excuse. </p><p>My house has clutter and piles of clean and dirty laundry. I have the inevitable pile of clothes that need to be hung up in my closet but no exercise bike to pile them on. My bed does get made every day. The dishes get done and the trash taken out daily but my house hasn't been dusted or vacuumed since last week. I still hear the echoes of my Sunday School teachers... "Is your home clean enough for Jesus to visit?" with the expectation that the physical cleanliness trumps the spiritual cleanliness. </p><p>I have a potty mouth and my kids are no longer surprised to hear mom drop the occasionally F-bomb. I love a good cup of coffee and drink way too much diet coke. I travel without my husband and kids at least twice a year. I have a Master's Degree and full time job. I read 40-ish books year. I love to cook, bake and create. </p><p>I am a part of the Gen X generation. Technically, I am what you call a "cusper"; given my year of birth and being at the end of one generation and the beginning of another, I can identify with two generations. I belong to the generation that was expected to follow the path set by the Baby Boomers. Yet, I fight like a Millennial who demands the equality that our mothers were once and are still denied. </p><p>Falling into this generational crevice, means that I don't belong. I am too old to be young and too young to be old. I have never found that groove where I fit in. </p><p>How do I, how do you, how do we find balance? That balance of knowing we don't have to be perfect but to keep striving for the best. How do we once again find our autonomy and reclaim our own power over our own bodies? How do we accept failure as something worthy? How do we see past the lies and embrace the truth? </p><p>More importantly.... to those once upon a time bloggers turned influencer...is what you are showing the world real? Because the picture perfect life portrayed in sermons and through social media does not lift up other women. It is perpetuating the ideals that are keeping women in the cycle of an emotional poverty. </p>Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-22794683895780606782017-10-17T21:29:00.000-07:002017-10-17T21:29:03.217-07:00#metooA couple of days ago, two little words flashed across my screen on Facebook.<br />
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My first thought of was Meghan Trainor and her jam: Me too. </div>
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It's a song about a woman who wakes up everyday and is grateful for her life. She loves who she is. I have had this song stuck in my head since Monday. But that is not what those two words reference. "Me too" has been spreading across all forms of social media. </div>
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Too many of my female friends have made this as their Facebook status, their Instagram post or tweeted this on Twitter. These two little words are meant to "shock" and bring a reality, give a face to a monster. I am not shocked. I am not surprised at the number of "Me too" posts that have been flooding my social media pages. </div>
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Disclaimer: My non-shocked reaction has NOTHING to do with the person who has typed those two words! My non-shocked reaction has everything to do with the fact that this is what happens and no one wants to change anything. I hate to admit this right now but sexual harassment/assault is something that I have seen and heard too often. It has happened so often that I am no longer fazed by it. That is not to say it is not painful to hear, I just hear it too often.Wait... just keep reading. </div>
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"Me too" is meant to change something. Isn't that the point of all of it? Typing two words is only the beginning. </div>
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If you have been sexually harassed or assaulted, your first step is admitting what happened. No one ever asks to be harassed, molested, abused or assaulted. THERE IS NO SHAME IN WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO YOU! (You see what I did there? I made that statement in all caps because it is a true statement.) Your worth as a human being does not diminish because you have been victimized. If you have had the courage to type those two little words, you have taken a huge step. </div>
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Your next step, if you haven't already, is to seek professional help. Once again, there is no shame in what has happened and it is not your fault. We must all be able to heal from our wounds. Help is out there. You can heal and become whole again. </div>
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We each have a story to tell. We each have a "Me too" in our lives and we can help each other heal. Our experiences, when we use them as a force for good can make the changes. Simply typing those words or admitting our pains and then doing nothing about it will not stop it from happening to another person. Now that you have typed those words, get involved! If you want to put an end to sexual harassment and sexual assault, if you want to protect future generations from the pain that you have felt- <b>do more than type those two words. </b></div>
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Teach your sons to be gentlemen. Teach your daughters to be strong and find no shame in who they are. Teach your children to respect all persons- no matter their abilities or gender. </div>
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Love yourself, be grateful for you life and help others do the same. </div>
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... me too. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>National Sexual Assault Hotline</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Call 1-800-656-4673</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>https://www.rainn.org/ </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>National Domestic Violence Hotline </b></span></div>
<div class="icon-title" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; line-height: 1.111; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #080808;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>1-800-799-7233</b></span></span></div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>1-800-787-3224 (TTY for Deaf/hard of hearing)</b></span></div>
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Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-76201625754350448222017-02-21T16:52:00.001-08:002017-02-21T16:52:18.288-08:00Because my loan isn't already big enough and I don't have enough paper. I graduated in December with my Bachelors Degree. I thought it was enough. I thought for sure I would have a job by January 15th. I was going to have health insurance after not having any for three years by March 1st at the latest! I had this huge plan:<br />
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Step one: Get a job! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHUCu5qfI4WpUm3zegEM7Sqjv6aRV3Wp5bBPBF5nVxpMD8sUP3bDHsT5ey8E_yyIAxRDaczSX5Y_dwCzqABc_pibqOtZPsSrvSQWplQ3Qa7mVlzbV2b7oZtYzltaDPr2WdKNfN9AmiTY/s1600/GetAJob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHUCu5qfI4WpUm3zegEM7Sqjv6aRV3Wp5bBPBF5nVxpMD8sUP3bDHsT5ey8E_yyIAxRDaczSX5Y_dwCzqABc_pibqOtZPsSrvSQWplQ3Qa7mVlzbV2b7oZtYzltaDPr2WdKNfN9AmiTY/s320/GetAJob.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Step two: Sit for RHIA credentials by April 1st, 2017</div>
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Step three: Receive CHIP credentials by Summer 2018 </div>
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Step four: Enroll in graduate school by Summer 2019</div>
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It's now February 21, 2017 and Step four is now completed two years ahead of schedule.<br />
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Yep, you read that right. I am now officially in Graduate School. I will be pursuing a Masters of Science in Health Informatics at Grand Canyon University in Phoenix, Arizona. The best part- no relocation necessary. The worst part: I really thought that I could break up with my homework but it looks like that will not be possible.<br />
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So why is this happening two years ahead of schedule. Because despite the 30 plus job applications I was sending out every <b>week</b>, I was meet with the same rejection: we cannot hire you because you have no managerial experience (and we are not willing to give you any). Okay, I added the last part. I thought I had paid my dues. I had spent 9 years doing grunt work and the last three of those bettering myself through education. Every rejection was another way of someone saying you are not good enough. Apparently, I had not done enough and I was not good enough.<br />
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I am sure that by going to grad school will not increase my chances for a job. This is a long term decision for a long term result. I completed my counseling for my loans today and it will take me 10 years to pay off what I will owe at almost $750 a month once I am done in two years.<br />
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So now, I re-write my plan.<br />
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Get a job! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwbl3BKNnQLxAZLX0xBU5M59Mqw0EFUMaTHgdv4Y2_R7GS0gv0_YOVdK_xEZNJjKZxzp9_IcRhPjOtBEWrlrLX_0Ly8afJ80QJau-Fd4xYCmtGxi0FJ6ywgWsWvv-iNGAi_Y3Fq7X_e2E/s1600/how-to-get-a-job-at-a-startup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwbl3BKNnQLxAZLX0xBU5M59Mqw0EFUMaTHgdv4Y2_R7GS0gv0_YOVdK_xEZNJjKZxzp9_IcRhPjOtBEWrlrLX_0Ly8afJ80QJau-Fd4xYCmtGxi0FJ6ywgWsWvv-iNGAi_Y3Fq7X_e2E/s320/how-to-get-a-job-at-a-startup.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Get RHIA credentials! </div>
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Do my Homework (classes start March 16th) </div>
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I am not putting anything in any order!!<br />
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The kids are not thrilled about grad school but are okay with this program. It's all online, I will be more available and I will be able to work.<br />
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I've wanted a Masters degree since I was 17 years old. I started myself on a path that would place me where I wanted to be in life. Things, wonderful and miraculous things happened along the way; My Hotstuff, Miss May and Bubba Jones were those wonderful events. It didn't stop me from continuing on my path. It created a new path so that I could continue on the journey I started. Now, I am finally finishing a journey that I started when I was 17.<br />
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I have really truly witnessed in the last couple of years that prayers are heard and prayers are answered. Those answers may not come under the circumstances that we choose or desire but they are heard and are answered.<br />
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<br />Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-2859668848623086592017-01-06T21:48:00.000-08:002017-01-06T21:48:56.368-08:00What adding to my already massive student loan and getting another piece of paper taught meAs stated once before...<br />
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" Massive life decisions are made for two reasons: desperation or necessity.<br />
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I made one out of desperate necessity: I went back to college because I needed to make a difference in my life and the life of my family."<br />
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About three months and two days after I claimed my first, very expensive piece of paper, I realized during Sunday Dinner (no less) that I needed to pursue a second piece of paper. I immediately called my sister, because that is what one does in this situation. I got her advice because your sister usually has the very best advice. Plus, the fact that she works at the University really really helped!<br />
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I emailed my former adviser, asking for help and the directions I need to follow in order to get into the Bachelors program. Less than 24 hours later she replied: "you don't need to do anything, congratulations you are in the program". Now... classes started in less than three weeks and I scrambled for money and books and everything!!!<br />
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But I had to break the news to my kids- this was not going to be easy. They hated the fact that I had already been in school for that last two years and I was going back for another year.<br />
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Bubba Jones's reply was a flat out NO! I couldn't go back because I would always be in (what I called) "homework mode". Miss May wasn't too thrilled either- in fact, I vividly remember my preteen rolling her eyes. Hotstuff... he wasn't thrilled but what can I say?!? I would not have been able to do the last three years without him and his unconditional support and love.<br />
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One year and 4 months later- I finished with my Bachelors Degree! Going full time, full speed and taking no less than 13 credits a semester. I graduated!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZChHHXePbq9dM99HyB3Ka3CQdmFSb4bZtFdK9BArGYkfrDdsCvYyRhhIFFjLXzmkqGKcx61ZDmW81mb9DHpS4__I4BsswtF629HCkGj-Xu1i2vbTN62_6cKIyzv4ai7Wm1renY8B2Do/s1600/edited-1618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZChHHXePbq9dM99HyB3Ka3CQdmFSb4bZtFdK9BArGYkfrDdsCvYyRhhIFFjLXzmkqGKcx61ZDmW81mb9DHpS4__I4BsswtF629HCkGj-Xu1i2vbTN62_6cKIyzv4ai7Wm1renY8B2Do/s320/edited-1618.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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I heard my name called... I walked forward... I shook the hand of my college dean, accepted my diploma cover and smiled really pretty for the camera. I am not going to lie... it was one of the very best days of my life. I knew in that moment, that I can do hard things. I had proven to myself that I could.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwsM73_PV8YRY97pTeRZlKeuz4UekTOLMBzoDfFjlLlq-vERRzq8W2DVuR0Ryz8pVxp97D1gLQKJq7jifKoe413BouOwqaV2TSOXAFdSXXqQk0yX6ZJK4PCgEN80gbTT9rYWm5OZf6c4/s1600/graduation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwsM73_PV8YRY97pTeRZlKeuz4UekTOLMBzoDfFjlLlq-vERRzq8W2DVuR0Ryz8pVxp97D1gLQKJq7jifKoe413BouOwqaV2TSOXAFdSXXqQk0yX6ZJK4PCgEN80gbTT9rYWm5OZf6c4/s320/graduation.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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My mother once told me that her biggest regret in life was not getting her associate degree. She didn't want me to have that same regret. So there I was, dressed in black, with no regrets.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">To quote the ever awesome Tom Petty:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Runnin down a dream, that never would have come to me! Workin on a mystery, going where ever it leads... ya, runnin down a dream!</span></span><br />
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So what did adding to my already massive student loan and getting another piece of paper teach me?<br />
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<b><br /></b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>1. Take time for God</b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrWaLaaFTq8xtnL8PsGE-qAAxS5LSQuxNCupNa0GnlTWEWlD2Gs41wSHqdBkiJHw2PqoOegtRV_ABoBI9wCYCulubwXKXmspa9gMDWZEaaVPe9FiUljJOd1ft0TMwExJvsJbFTHwDA28/s1600/SLC+May.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrWaLaaFTq8xtnL8PsGE-qAAxS5LSQuxNCupNa0GnlTWEWlD2Gs41wSHqdBkiJHw2PqoOegtRV_ABoBI9wCYCulubwXKXmspa9gMDWZEaaVPe9FiUljJOd1ft0TMwExJvsJbFTHwDA28/s200/SLC+May.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salt Lake City LDS Temple </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So many times, we are told of the importance to take time for ourselves, take time for our families, take time for this... take time for that! As if there is 270 hours in the day!! My "Me Time" was spent on my commutes to and from Campus or my internship. Time management took on a whole new meaning while I was in school. I understand, you don't want one more thing you have to give a priority to.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWjYsjNAzPaCURXs_hgclV9MX6SLBoga1hNcV3IneyoX8dUDA1SCJchbcezKDqPOrJLC6cB3-xU4YMchU2a9jkJkHcH0Md9fY63nCOgzQtxt7FySjZNkZ_cJ3WvjvnNnxl4td_mAI-F5Q/s1600/14064146_10209307756224465_4757663837606602801_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWjYsjNAzPaCURXs_hgclV9MX6SLBoga1hNcV3IneyoX8dUDA1SCJchbcezKDqPOrJLC6cB3-xU4YMchU2a9jkJkHcH0Md9fY63nCOgzQtxt7FySjZNkZ_cJ3WvjvnNnxl4td_mAI-F5Q/s200/14064146_10209307756224465_4757663837606602801_n.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seattle LDS Temple</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I took the time, once a month, to faithfully attend Temple. However, once I began to devote some time to my God, to my faith; miracles began to happen. I made honor roll almost every semester. I found more time for my family, for my Hotstuff, for my school work, for everything. All of those hard things- I was able to do them because I took time for my God.<br />
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"But I am an atheist!" you claim. That is okay... take time to recognize the creations that are around you. Recognize those wonders that are bigger than you are. Take a moment to be amazed by this great big world you live in. Find the good in your life.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnFgw4S4L-LMhWhCfZnFPU_LUmIzyYt2FKIK_StkF8WyLlNxHXRyHD3UZmwRTMft75Uuu98f-v-1pNokA_vYqOsNdu6wlD0hcETH8skzDTH5ZgGcJX0WRrLjIqKYc4F6dp7EQaq0gW0-8/s1600/Seattle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnFgw4S4L-LMhWhCfZnFPU_LUmIzyYt2FKIK_StkF8WyLlNxHXRyHD3UZmwRTMft75Uuu98f-v-1pNokA_vYqOsNdu6wlD0hcETH8skzDTH5ZgGcJX0WRrLjIqKYc4F6dp7EQaq0gW0-8/s320/Seattle.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My good in my life- My Miss May</td></tr>
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<b>2. What is required isn't what is always right </b><br />
I had this class... two classes. I hated them. Took them both in the same semester. One class, I couldn't understand why I needed to take this "upper division" class and why it wasn't a required freshman class. The other... while it was very informative, had NOTHING to do with my degree but it was required.<br />
Steve Jobs, in his 2005 Commencement speech at Stanford University talked about dropping out of college.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-iZtFgNlSe1sQMG3o4FTRmKiPdI6QHpM8qJkDqOiD7SzKsYeE8hlLhjJO1shaDUS4Xz2HgtP6SwGcBkt9qlukRJD0wvwCXJjSaraOeDQXISRq-N5BJwOEISrgm_k-OGU937VYTBMZRc/s1600/steve+jobs.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-iZtFgNlSe1sQMG3o4FTRmKiPdI6QHpM8qJkDqOiD7SzKsYeE8hlLhjJO1shaDUS4Xz2HgtP6SwGcBkt9qlukRJD0wvwCXJjSaraOeDQXISRq-N5BJwOEISrgm_k-OGU937VYTBMZRc/s320/steve+jobs.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , serif; font-size: 16px;">"So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , serif; font-size: 16px;">The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn’t interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked far more interesting.... </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , serif; font-size: 16px;">If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards 10 years later." </span></i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I never quite understood what he meant until I had been in my "informative but nothing to do with my degree class". I was there because it was required. The assignments I needed to do had nothing to do with anything I could apply practically to any part of my life- personal and professional. Those classes were a waste of time and money but I was on a time and money crunch. I needed to get things done but if I had had the chance, I would have taken those classes that were not required of me. I would have taken the time to learn something valuable and worthwhile. </span><br />
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<b>3. I can do hard things!! </b><br />
I have fibromyalgia. I have IBS-C. I have a broken uterus. I am an Asthmatic. I have a broken body.<br />
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Every single one of us can do hard things. The only thing that really truly is stopping us is ourselves. Many times I blogged about not being able to paint or crochet. I started painting a year ago and it finally clicked in my brain on how to crochet. I realized I couldn't do those things because I was stopping myself- I gave up too easily. I am the next Rothko? Probably not, but I enjoy learning about art and painting. I may never crochet as well as my Oma did but I have a small skill that will provide lots of newborns with hats. </div>
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<b>4. Learn by example </b></div>
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There are some things that our textbooks and professors can't teach us. Those are the things that we need to learn through the experiences we have outside the class room. </div>
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<b>5. How I did it.... </b></div>
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<i>"I don't know how you do it!" </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3-V6EX-6PV1cAHoX0QY4FotT-HPYZ6YXs9NQmhDKGpw2-PYl2vz9sKXPfwZpoJQ6UNfWLiYRrnjxg32aZP14zSidNi8-Ip3jRfJwcX6jTjNwkYtgXD4nMui3X8d2u7UL7k5yrKwte7Q/s1600/Hotstuff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3-V6EX-6PV1cAHoX0QY4FotT-HPYZ6YXs9NQmhDKGpw2-PYl2vz9sKXPfwZpoJQ6UNfWLiYRrnjxg32aZP14zSidNi8-Ip3jRfJwcX6jTjNwkYtgXD4nMui3X8d2u7UL7k5yrKwte7Q/s1600/Hotstuff.jpg" /></a>It was the one phrase that so many would tell me. I didn't know how to answer them. Truthfully, it all goes back to taking time for my God. There was something bigger than me helping me. I had the support of husband and two amazing offspring. I had a words of encouragement from friends and family. I had professors who cared about me and worked with me. I finally passed that stupid effing math class!!!! And I got a B+!!!!!!!! </div>
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There is something bigger than ourselves. Call it what you want. But that something bigger than me, I know that is how I was able to do any of it. </div>
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<b>6. "Bob Ross is Marijuana! Except, you don't smoke him- you just watch him!" </b></div>
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Those are the wise words my Mother in Law claimed. While writing my final paper [my internship report... 20 page nightmare!] I was extremely stressed. My blood pressure was through the roof. I was ready to cry. I hit the worst mental block of my life and I had nothing to help me!! I was sitting at my computer staring at my screen and realizing it was too quite in my basement. I needed some noise. So off to the trusty Netflix for some background noise and what do I find?!? </div>
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CHILL with BOB ROSS!!! </div>
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OH MY GOODNESS!!! It was like Marijuana from Heaven! I turned on the first episode and turned back to my paper. Within in a few minutes, my blood pressure began to bottom out. I was super relaxed. My mental block began to fade. I was golden. By the end of the third episode, I had to turn it off because I ready to fall asleep and I was hungry.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was so relaxed I couldn't give an (expletive F-word) about the fact that he had just painted the same damn picture 3 times! Or that all of his trees were happy!!! I was so chill that I could finally write my paper. I called my mother in law to tell her of my experience, later that night. And that is what she said to me: <b>"Bob Ross is Marijuana! Except, you don't smoke him- you just watch him!" </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>That is what I learned, for a whole lotta money! </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh! and I finally received my Credentials!!! Now, I have to study for my next set of credentials. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The job hunt has begun and I while I wait for my phone to ring, I am going to enjoy being a "stay at home Mom" until I go completely nuts! And in the meantime, I will wait for the anxiety attacks regarding my impending student loan bill slowly creep up on me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Was it worth it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Worth every last student loan dime!</span></div>
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Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-399321562460976732016-12-10T15:15:00.000-08:002016-12-10T15:15:56.376-08:00Your Choice and the Accountability for LifeTo the State of Ohio,<br />
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Just recently you made the choice to pass a law that (in so many words) says an abortion cannot be performed if a heart beat is heard. The heart beat of a fetus is heard around six to eight weeks of gestation. While this choice has been made, I can't help but wonder:<br />
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What are you going to tell the little girl that was raped multiple times by her father and is now pregnant with his child?<br />
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How are you going to console the mother, whose daughter has died with a wire hanger in her hand trying to give herself an abortion?<br />
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How will you hold the fathers of these children accountable? Because the last time I checked, it took one male and one female to make one human.<br />
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How will you help the mentally retarded woman who has been raped and cannot take care of herself or another person?<br />
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What do you tell the husband whose wife has died of pregnancy related complications, when all that was need was an abortion to save her life?<br />
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What plans do you have in place to prevent the unnecessary deaths of countless number of woman?<br />
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How will you help those who may find themselves in what they believe to be a hopeless situation, believing that the only alternative is to give themselves an abortion that results in their pointless death.<br />
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Do you have plans for the influx of children that will now be on welfare? or placed in foster care?<br />
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Do you have plans to help families adopt these children that cannot be cared for?<br />
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What plans do you have for your Prenatal Medicaid Services and CHIP? Do you plan on funding either of them? What about your department of education?<br />
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Are you going to be willing to help that mother who will need two or more jobs to make ends meet?<br />
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How will you guarantee that the father of those children pays his child support?<br />
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I am Pro-Choice with a belief that abortion is not always the answer. Life is sacred. The sanctity of life does not end the moment we exit the womb. It begins from the moment of conception follows us to the moment of death.<br />
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Many women enter into clinics, surgical centers and hospitals feeling powerless and hopeless. You can't just declare "No More Abortions" and hope the problem magically fixes itself. We need to start giving those women hope! Because when they have hope they can find the power to make a change for the better in this world.<br />
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Unless you the State, step up an offer an alternative to an abortion, "Back-alley Abortions" will make a come back stronger than ever! You will be met with death and you will have no one to blame but yourselves. You've taken away someones right to choose. You've taken away their choice, Now give them another choice. Give them a choice that gives them hope.<br />
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Many of these woman made the choice to have sex. For many of them, the choice was forced upon them. I beg of you,<b> no matter the sins of the parents, please do not let these children suffer.</b> If you really are pro-life, then be a champion for a persons entire life.<br />
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Sincerely,<br />
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Honey<br />
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<br />Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-20090649339369964392015-05-12T12:10:00.000-07:002015-05-12T12:10:21.866-07:00What a piece of paper and a massive student loan taught me<br />
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Massive life decisions are made for two reasons: desperation or necessity.<br />
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I made one out of desperate necessity: I went back to college because I needed to make a difference in my life and the life of my family.<br />
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Back in May of 2013, with tears in my eyes after my third meltdown in less than two days, I call my husband from work and asked if I could quit my job. Without going into too much detail, I knew that I needed to get out of my job when my friend remarked, that I was working in the most hostile work environment that she had ever heard of. I guess when your coworkers try to sabotage you, that could be considered a hostile work environment. My friends wasn't the only one who knew of my dilemma and who also made the same suggestion for me to quit. I didn't realize what was really happening to me until someone else told me. </div>
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In addition to the nightmare of my work environment, I had progressed as far as I could in my job/career. I couldn't move anywhere, no matter the knowledge that I acquired or the skills that I obtained; I was never going anywhere. I was stuck as I was and I was desperate to get out and move on.<br />
Before the phone call to my Hotstuff, I had received a job offer from a hospital in Alaska less than two weeks before. After weekend of prayer, fasting and meditation; I had to decline this offer. It wasn't what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to go back to school to get my degree and my credentials. After that blubbery mess of a phone call to my Hotstuff, I put my affairs and paperwork in to order. I then put in my application for a university 80 miles north of where I lived and was accepted. Five semesters, 20 months of school and just as many finals, plus one massive student loan later- I have finally finished! </div>
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How I feel today: <br />
<img alt="David Tennant = Awesome" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/93/72/8d/93728d85e8a8ed0610917496369bc1bd.jpg" width="269" /> </div>
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Towards the last 4 weeks of my last semester I felt a lot like this: </div>
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And my motivation at the end of each semester was this:<br />
<img alt="This is what I should be doing!" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/2e/4f/74/2e4f74474796d50bcb75e6553c9de848.jpg" width="239" /></div>
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I knew going back wasn't going to be easy. I am married with two kids. Granted, my kids are not infants and can pretty much take care of themselves to a point... but they are still in my stewardship. Also, I didn't quit my job completely, I just moved into a different role- I became a part time (as needed) employee; which worked to my benefit. I went to school full time- 12+ credits every semester except one. I took seven credits one summer semester in which included ICD 9 and 10 diagnosis coding plus PATHOPHYSIOLOGY!- the hardest class I have ever had to take in my life. Most nights I didn't get to bed until after 11 pm. I learned some valuable time management skills. I took one vacation; the first one in two and a half years. My textbooks became the only books I read. I would go at least a day and half with out seeing my family, once a week.<br />
In the time I went to school, I threw a bridal shower for my sister in law. Attended six weddings- one of them I was the Matron of Honor and helped to coordinate, one wedding I helped put together and did all of the flowers for, Hotstuff's brother and Grandfather got married, my sister got married and the final was a cousin that got married. Also, in that time my son was baptized. There were still family events, birthdays and holidays to attend to and celebrate. I spent my kids spring break typing my final papers and doing my homework while we were in California. And did I mention that I also have Fibromyalgia? Because I do.<br />
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This is not me trying to play martyr. Just because I went back to school didn't mean that anything else in my life had the ability to or could stop. I wasn't single or in my 20's anymore and I didn't have someone to pay for my life/ living expenses while I attended school. I had a life, priorities and responsibilities that still needed me. Going back meant putting on my big girl panties and getting things done.<br />
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People ask me: how did you do it?<br />
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My response: I don't know. I just did it.<br />
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<img alt="For when you need to keep your erotic friend fiction hidden: | 13 Ways To Add More Tina Belcher To Your Life" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/c0/3d/42/c03d42728bae6b952e9476e477af38a1.jpg" width="251" /><br />
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In the end, after all of my hard work, late nights and missing my family, I was given a piece of paper, a massive student loan and a license plate cover letting the world know that I was now an alumni of my university. So with all of my accolades, what did a piece of paper and a massive student loan teach me?</div>
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1. I must agree with Audrey Hepburn, happy girls really do make the prettiest girls.<br />
<img alt="audrey hepburn | breakfast at tiffany's" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/0a/f9/8e/0af98e217ab111da198f598d6f9b0922.jpg" width="209" /></div>
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2. During Midterms and finals, all you really need is Diet Coke and Snickers. This is true of any stressful situation. </div>
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<img alt="Never underestimate the safety of all around me if I'm not ;)" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/94/14/47/941447898041574450d572b8eea2b079.jpg" width="320" /><br />
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3. One of the very best shows ever is The X-files. It doesn't matter how old that shows is,... okay it's over 20 years old but the point is- That shit is still awesome!! and they solved all of it the old fashioned way: without Google, extra fancy schmancy technology or the constant use of a cell phone.<br />
<img alt="The X-files in a nutshell.." src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/54/11/ad/5411adec44e7608f1c5f9f8d17c12208.jpg" /></div>
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4. Binge watching on Netflix is a way of life and a wonderful therapy. Don't judge. </div>
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<img alt="A Soulmate That Is Always There For You" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/6a/de/16/6ade16a5e0e28a11a730984ca5383ef5.jpg" width="214" /></div>
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5. My Happy Place: the beach</div>
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6. We all have comfort foods and one should never underestimate the power of comfort foods.<br />
<img alt="AMEN!" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d5/85/4d/d5854d3a4ff07e05aa745dbee4c08c24.jpg" width="278" /><br />
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7. Never underestimate the power of a good run or a good cry.<br />
<img alt="I already do!" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/7d/fd/9d/7dfd9dfe83eb26d8025f6be2055134dc.jpg" width="320" /><br />
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8. Speaking of a good cry... "There is no crying in Baseball!" but if you don't cry at least twice a semester, you are doing it wrong.<br />
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<img alt="There's no crying in baseball! Love this movie." height="244" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f9/03/5d/f9035d2b3e3b58ce35f98937893764f3.jpg" width="320" /><br />
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9. From Joe Simpson, author of "Touching the Void"; "Success is about choice... not chance."<br />
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<img alt="Touching the Void by Joe Simpson An amazing story of courage and survival" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b9/2e/bd/b92ebd9c74c4a2fa44e61f925aca2428.jpg" /><br />
If you have never heard his story, it is a must read!!!!<br />
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10. All good things worth doing will more than likely be the hardest thing you will ever do.<br />
<img alt="Visit www.mydreamshape.com for workouts, recipes, diet tips, workout music and tools! 30-60 minutes of being uncomfortable is better than being uncomfortable your entire life." height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/e3/b8/2e/e3b82e9559d77358e36fcc74ddf3730e.jpg" width="240" /><br />
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As you read through what I have learned, those lessons are the ones that you don't learn in a classroom. I may have just earned my college degree but there are lessons that will never be found in the class room and those are the best lessons of all. <br />
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What's next for me?? Just because I have graduated doesn't mean I am done and life will be just peachy from here on out. I still have to sit for my credentials and find a new and better job. I still have meals to cook, a house to clean, a job to do, children love and be a mom too, a Hotstuff to give some sweet, sweet lovin' to and some sanity to keep. And I must not forget about those student loans that will be knocking on my door, demanding payment in a couple of months.<br />
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Going back to school was worth it... every last C I earned, every paper I wrote, every new thing I learned, every train and smelly bus ride, walking in bad weather and good weather, every crappy test question- all of it. From start to finish, it was all worth it. But don't worry I didn't get all C's!<br />
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I made a decision out of desperate necessity and it has been one of the most important and best decisions of my life. </div>
Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-80494770717374437742014-03-28T17:30:00.000-07:002014-03-28T17:30:26.225-07:00With a love like that<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am LDS (Mormon) and I live in Utah. And please, DO NOT call me a "Utah Mormon", because I know exactly what you are talking about when you call me that and it hurts... I rather you call me fat and spit in my face. But that is not what I am blogging about today. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today I am blogging about the most controversial subject in Utah right now- No, not Same Sex Marriage but Homosexuality. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One day, I will be able to find the words to explain my stance on Same Sex Marriage but I need to be able to fine tune how I feel to help you understand without offending or contradicting myself. Frankly, I am struggling with the issue. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In 2004, the state of Utah defined marriage as the legal union between one man and one woman. In December 2013, a little judge came along and said: "Hey, people of Utah you are being jerks!" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Just kidding! I don't think he said that (or used the word jerks). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
"On December 20, 2013, District Judge Robert J. Shelby struck down the same-sex marriage ban as unconstitutional.[7] He wrote:[8]<br />
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Amendment 3 perpetuates inequality by holding that the families and relationships of same-sex couples are not now, nor ever will be, worthy of recognition. Amendment 3 does not thereby elevate the status of opposite-sex marriage; it merely demeans the dignity of same-sex couples. And while the State cites an interest in protecting traditional marriage, it protects that interest by denying one of the most traditional aspects of marriage to thousands of its citizens: the right to form a family that is strengthened by a partnership based on love, intimacy, and shared responsibilities." (From the most trustworthy source on the internet: Wikipedia.)<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After December 20th, what did I see? </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I saw two things:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>One</u>- Thousand of people rushing to the courts to get married. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>Two</u>- I saw HATE. Pure hate coming from people who preach about love, charity, compassion and that all of us are children of God. </span><br />
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I was, as they say: "born into the church." Meaning, that my parents were members of the church, therefore I am automatically a member- same rule applies to most religions. I grew up being taught that I am a Child of God who loves me and God loves all of his Children. I was taught and have learned to love others, that great commandment from John chapter 13 verse 34: <i>A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.</i><br />
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Just a note: in that scripture Jesus states not once but twice: "Love one another".<br />
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I was encourage to serve, show compassion and show charity (which is defined as the <u><b>PURE LOVE OF CHRIST</b></u>) to everyone. No matter who or what they are. After December 20th, I felt as if I had missed some footnote in the church manuals that said: we should love one another as Jesus has commanded... except those who are gay.<br />
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My brother is gay and I love him. Do I agree with his all of his choices? No and to be fair he doesn't agree of mine but he is still my brother. For me, there is no footnote that says love everyone except the gays. I love and accept my brother for who he is, not what he is.<br />
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One of the best lessons I have learned about love has come from the most unlikely source in my little Mormon life. It came from Pope Francis.<br />
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Pope Francis leads millions of Catholics everyday. His position is viewed as the closest to God and yet he is humble enough to say: Who am I to judge? I believe that if Pope Francis can live this, so can I.<br />
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When we let go of our judgments, we let go of our fear and we learn to love.<br />
<br />Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-91986683474258808882014-03-26T21:50:00.000-07:002014-03-26T21:51:23.048-07:00D-I-V-O-R-C-E I am a huge Coldplay fan and I am so excited for their new album to come out. I am in love with the new song.<br />
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So my interest was peaked this morning when I heard on the radio that Chris Martin, the lead singer from Coldplay and his wife, actress, Gwyneth Paltrow are separating. I take no joy in the demise of any marriage and what the two of them are going through is not easy. Best thoughts and wishes to their family.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(To read the full public letter: <a href="http://www.goop.com/journal/be/conscious-uncoupling">http://www.goop.com/journal/be/conscious-uncoupling</a>) </span><br />
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But "separating" is not the word they are using to describe what they are actually doing.<br />
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The term they are using is: "CONSCIOUS UNCOUPLING"<br />
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My first thought: "What in the hell is conscious uncoupling??" So I did a little research and I found an article from the Washington Post <span style="font-size: xx-small;">(<a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/music/paltrows-conscious-uncoupling-confounds-many/2014/03/26/2dc65960-b52b-11e3-bab2-b9602293021d_story.html">http://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/music/paltrows-conscious-uncoupling-confounds-many/2014/03/26/2dc65960-b52b-11e3-bab2-b9602293021d_story.html</a> ) </span>and from Time Magazine (<a href="http://time.com/38650/what-gwyneth-paltrow-really-means-by-conscious-uncoupling/"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://time.com/38650/what-gwyneth-paltrow-really-means-by-conscious-uncoupling</span>/</a>) and I headed over to <a href="http://www.goop.com/">www.goop.com</a> (Paltrows website and blog.)<br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
"The term was coined by a Los Angeles therapist and author, Katherine Woodward Thomas, who has created a five-step “Conscious Uncoupling” online process — to “release the trauma of a breakup, reclaim your power and reinvent your life.”" (from the Washington Post article).<br />
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Mr. Martin and Miss Paltrow, let's face it! What you are doing is not "conscious uncoupling". You are getting <u><b>DIVORCED</b></u> and using really big words to deflect what you are really doing does not change anything or make what you are doing any easier. <br />
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Paltrow,announced their divorce on her website with a public letter. Below the letter was a blog post from Dr. Habib Sadeghi and Dr. Sherry Sami, expanding on what "conscious uncoupling" is.<br />
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Dr. Sadeghi and Dr. Sami, the authors of this article, I hereby declare your article: BULL SHIT!!!!!<br />
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"Why?" you might ask.<br />
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#1 <b>I did not get married to get divorced and I do not believe that anyone else gets married to get divorced</b>.<br />
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The current statistic states that 50% of all marriages in end divorce; it's sad but very true. I am a child of divorce and so is my husband. Just because divorce is a common occurrence doesn't mean that it is a good thing or always the right thing. To be fair, there are times that divorce is the right thing- those are the marriages that have turned toxic and abusive.<br />
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I went into my marriage to be married to the man I love not to divorce him after any amount of time. Has my marriage been perfect? No and far from perfect. We work on our marriage constantly and we don't work on it for our children. We work on our marriage for us and because we do, our children reap those benefits.<br />
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The average cost of a wedding in the US today is $25,200. So who in their right mind would spend over 25 grand on a wedding just to get divorced??<br />
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<i>"When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." -When Harry Met Sally</i><br />
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#2 <b>"To put in plainly, as divorce rates indicate, human beings haven’t been able to fully adapt to our skyrocketing life expectancy. Our biology and psychology aren’t set up to be with one person for four, five, or six decades. "</b><br />
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Sure, we are all living longer and I hope to live a very long and full life... with MY HUSBAND!! The same man that I married when I was 19. My great grandparents lived into their 80's. My great-grandfather was born in 1907 and my great grandmother was born in 1914. They were married for 65 years! Legally, they were married for only 60 years. My great grandparents divorced after 30 years of marriage and for five years were divorced. My grandmother told me the story that my great grandmother called her one day to announce that she was going to marry my great grandfather again. When she explained why, she simply said: "Because there is no other man like him." Even though they were legally divorced for five years, my great grandfather still counted those years as being married. In those five years, he learned how to cook a hamburger but he also learned to love his wife.<br />
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From the Guinness book of world records; the longest marriage:<br />
<div style="background-color: white; clear: left; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-right: 28px; outline: 0px !important; padding: 0px;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, helvetica, verdana, tahoma, sans-serif;">Herbert Fisher (USA, b. 10 June 1905) and Zelmyra Fisher (USA, b. 10 December 1907) were married on May 13, 1924 in North Carolina, USA. They had been married 86 years, 9 months, and 16 days as of 27 February 2011.Herbert Fisher sadly died on Sunday 27th February 2011. The couple had 5 children.</span></div>
<i>“The remedy for most marital stress is not in divorce. It is in repentance and forgiveness, in sincere expressions of charity and service. It is not in separation. It is in simple integrity that leads a man and a woman to square up their shoulders and meet their obligations. It is found in the Golden Rule, a time-honored principle that should first and foremost find expression in marriage.” </i><br />
<i>~Gordon B. Hinckley </i><br />
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#3<b>"Yes, there will be hiccups in the process, but by and large, there’s no more learning left to do. They’ll both be the same people 10 or 20 years from now as they are today. "</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
I am NOT the same person I was 12 year ago. I am NOT the same person I was yesterday. My Hotstuff isn't the same person today as he was 12 years ago and I certainly hope that he [positively] changes over the next 12 years, just as I will. I am constantly learning about him and he is constantly learning about me.<br />
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Marriage is not supposed to be easy. It is supposed to be hard. You are supposed to grow, change and learn together. Isn't that what one of the many aspect of marriage is? A process by which two people grow, change and learn together.<br />
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<i>“What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life--to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting?” </i><br />
<i>~George Eliot </i><br />
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#4<b> "The belief structure is the all-or-nothing idea that when we marry, it’s for life....The idea of being married to one person for life is too much pressure for anyone."</b><br />
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Challenge Accepted!<br />
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My Hotstuff and I have been married for over 11 years. This summer we will be celebrating our 12th wedding anniversary. He is the only person that I have ever wanted to be married to. On the day I married him, my intent was to get married and be married. The mere fact that you are telling me that I can't do it, makes me want to do this even more.<br />
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I don't believe that people go through out a happy marriage with the thoughts of:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"When is this marriage going to be over?" </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
"I wonder who I am going to marry next?" </div>
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"This marriage is too hard!! I want another one!" </div>
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If being married to the same person for an entire lifetime really is "too much pressure" then NO ONE would ever get married. If marriage is really that bad, then why get married? Do you have so little faith in people that you have resulted to insulting our intelligence. Millions of people right now are fighting for the simple right of marriage. Can you look any of them in the face and tell them to give up? Don't fight because you are just going to fail. Could you tell a couple who has been married, don't get your hopes up because it is not going to work out?<br />
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<i>"I love being married. It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life."</i><br />
<i>~Rita Rudner </i><br />
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#5<b> "Living happily ever after for the length of a 21st century lifetime should not be the yardstick by which we define a successful intimate relationship: This is an important consideration as we reform the concept of divorce."</b><br />
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Then how would you define a successful intimate relationship? By reforming the concept of divorce? Let's look at their definitions:<br />
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<b>Divorce:</b> the complete separation of two things<br />
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<b>Marriage</b>: the relationship that exists between a husband and a wife (a similar relationship between people of the same sex)<br />
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People get married to live happily ever after! We all want a happily ever after for our lifetime with the person we love the most. We all want to find our Prince/Princess Charming and ride off into the sunset with them. I certainly did not get married to be miserable. I got married because I found a happiness with the man I love. I got married to share, to laugh, to cry, to love, to play, to go and do with my Hotstuff. My happily ever after cannot be measured.<br />
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<i>“If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you.” </i><br />
<i>~A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh</i><br />
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Dr. Sadeghi and Dr. Sami, I read your post and felt that you treat marriage as if it was a plastic toy that you could play with and if you broke it you could just get a new one. As if it is okay to have a mentality of: "it's okay! I can be a complete jerk because I can always get another one". You treat marriage as if was this impossible task that no can or ever will be successful at it, so why try? You suggest that it's okay to have multiple marriages and divorces (and I am not judging anyone who has had multiple marriages and divorces) but have you taken into account the damage that is done with each new divorce? You suggest that we don't need to take responsibility because nothing is ever our fault. </div>
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I am not an expert and I don't claim to be, but I know what I have with my husband deserves the greatest respect, love and work that I can give. Our marriage is sacred and we treat it as such. We are responsible for our marriage. </div>
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To quote my Hotstuff: "If our marriage fails, it wasn't because we couldn't, it's was because we didn't."<br />
<br />Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-59926855117024481892014-03-12T23:12:00.000-07:002014-03-12T23:12:21.236-07:00The Walking PornI am a mother.<br />
I have two children and the oldest is a beautiful girl; Miss May.<br />
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Just recently, the topic of modesty has become a huge discussion in our home. Miss May is 10 years old and is growing up. I have two years left of a little girl before I get a teenager and that teenager will be greeting this world in full force.<br />
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Confession: I had an eating disorder when I was a teenager.<br />
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I hated my body... I kinda still do. I was poor and most of what I wore was very outdated and not flattering. Imagine Harry Potter receiving his cousins Dudley's over sized, old and tattered clothes... I was the female version of that. At a time of my life that I should have been able to blossom, I wasn't allowed to. Both of my parents were very heavy and at some point in their lives, have topped the scales at (or close to) 300 pounds and I inherited the predisposition to being over weight. I didn't and still don't have that flat tummy, every woman is "supposed" to have. I carry my weight in my belly, hips, butt and thighs. Always have and always will. I grew up in a very abusive home where my life was completely dictated by my mother with a very strong religious influence. She was so controlling that I had no choice in anything I wore; including my underwear.<br />
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Did I rebel?<br />
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Hell yes, I DID!!!<br />
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Like I said, at a time in my life when I should have been able to blossom, I wasn't allowed to. I also did not have a body like the other girls. I so desperately wanted to be skinny that I didn't eat.<br />
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So what does my eating disorder have to do with modesty?? A lot.<br />
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Growing up, I was taught that certain articles of clothing were immodest: tank tops and shorts that did not go to or past my knees. Two piece swimming suits were a huge no-no and most of the time I had to wear a t-shirt over my one piece swimming suit in public. Push up/lacy, under wire... basically any bra that wasn't white and plain and underwear that were not granny panties were something that only a prostitute wore. Essentially, anything that exposed my skin with the exception of my lower legs, anything from the neck up and from the elbows down was immodest and sinful.<br />
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I was told that you were a whore if you wore a thong... and that was something that came from church leaders. To be fair, my mother used the word "whore" and my church leaders simply implied that.<br />
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The point I am trying to make is that I have never felt comfortable in my own skin and being able to express myself through my clothing was forbidden. High school is not an educational experience but a social experience and if you can't fit the social norm: Welcome To HELL!<br />
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My best friend Bullfrog and I have know each other since we were 12 years old. She was raised a baptist and over the 5 years of school we shared together, I saw her in pants twice. She was not allowed to wear pants; only dresses and the length had to come <u>below her knees</u>.<br />
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So what the big deal about what we wore?? Two words: WALKING PORN.<br />
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What we were taught was, we were and still are walking porn to all men. And we as women are responsible for how they think, feel and act. We are sinful, horrible, ugly and men are not responsible for their lustful thoughts or their actions. If we wore something immodest and a man has an improper thought about us, that is not the mans fault. They get a free pass from sin while we as women are condemned as whores for showing our ankles.<br />
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Just recently, the was a devotional given at BYU- Idaho by Elder Tad R. Callister of the presidency of the Seventy from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His devotional is about modesty and it is a good devotional with great thoughts ( <u>https://www.lds.org/ensign/2014/03/the-lords-standard-of-morality?lang=eng</u> ). But.... this is what upset me:<br />
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"<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Women particularly can dress modestly and in the process contribute to their own self-respect and to the moral purity of men. In the end, most women get the type of man they dress for.</span>"<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Lucida Sans', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
My personal translation to that: if you get raped, it was because of what you wore and it is your fault. If your husband ends up being a jerk, it's probably because you wore thongs and lacy push up bras. A young mans "moral purity" is your, the woman's, responsibility and not his.<br />
<span style="color: #2f393a;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></span>
If that is true, then please explain something to me. Many Muslim woman wear something call a Burka. This article of clothing covers the entire body of a woman; very little skin is shown, if any at all.<br />
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<img src="http://theycallmejane.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/burka_11556050_onlinebild.jpg" /></div>
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So according to the statement of: "women get the type of man they dress for" and if this woman (who is completely covered) is raped, is that her fault??<br />
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This mentality doesn't change or stop just because a girl has become a woman. This mentality is carried for all woman of all ages. Young, old, married or unmarried. This is for all woman of all ages and situations.<br />
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In prepping for my soap box post and yes I am standing on my soap box, I came across this great website: <u>http://www.beautyredefined.net/ </u> and a blog post about modesty.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When we judge girls and women for the skin they are or are not showing, we are minimizing them to their bodies and repeating the same lies that females are only bodies in need of judgment and fixing. We are even perpetuating the shame-inducing belief that female bodies are sinful and impure, and must be covered to protect boys and men who can’t be held responsible for their thoughts or actions.</span><br />
<strong style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0.4000000059604645px; line-height: 20px; word-spacing: 1px;"><em> (</em></strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0.4000000059604645px; line-height: 20px; word-spacing: 1px;"><b><i>http://www.beautyredefined.net/modest-is-hottest-the-revealing-truth/)</i></b></span></span><br />
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Are we teaching our sons that is okay to objectify woman and that it is okay to do so because he has no control or responsibility for his thoughts or actions? What is being taught to our sons? What are we doing to our daughters self esteem when we place such a heavy burden upon them?<br />
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Without any doubt, modesty is important. I am not saying that it isn't. Modesty is something that is individual and a choice we make for a ourselves and not others. We are all responsible<b> to ourselves</b> for our dress.... male and female. We can influence the thoughts of others but you are not responsible for someone else's thoughts or actions. Someone else can influence your thoughts, too. Ultimately, you are the one responsible for how you think, act and feel. How we dress can influence us individually in how we think, feel, act and carry ourselves. Let's face it, we feel more confident when we are dressed right.<br />
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So what am I teaching my daughter? I am teaching her that she has a body and that body is a beautiful, wonderful, amazing and sacred gift from God and should be treated as such. Miss May has dressed herself since she was 3 years old. I am not going to crush her creativity because I want her to find expression in what she wears. I want her to be able to be comfortable in her own skin. I don't want her to feel like she has to cover her shoulders because she will be in trouble or think she is committing a sin if she doesn't. I want her to chose to cover her shoulders. I want her to make her own choices and be her own person. Ultimately, Hotstuff and I do have "Veto Power". If she has something that is not appropriate, we tell her that and explain why she can't wear it. And that explanation is not that what she wears makes her walking porn. <br />
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I am teaching my daughter, that we all have bodies and those beautiful, wonderful bodies deserve the same respect that she has for her own body. No matter the gender! I am teaching my daughter not to objectify men and as she get older and begins to understand, I will be teaching her the importance of controlling her thoughts.<br />
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So what I am teaching my son? The very same things. I am teaching him that he has a body and that body is a beautiful, wonderful, amazing and sacred gift from God and should be treated as such. I am allowing him to make his own choices in what he wears. I want him to make his own choices and be his own person. I want him to also find expression through what he wears. Our "Veto Power" extends to Bubba Jones also, along with an explanation. <br />
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I am teaching my son, that we all have bodies and those bodies are to be treated with respect; no matter the gender! I am teaching my son not to objectify women and as he get older and begins to understand, he too will be taught about the importance of controlling his thoughts.<br />
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I want my children to be a greater good for this world and that greater good begins within in them. I want them to have confidence, to be fearless. And I never want my children to feel less than what they are because of they way they are [not] dressed. I want and I encourage good choices made by my children.<br />
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I've made my confession, I've stood on my soap box and shared my thoughts. I didn't have the body or the wardrobe growing up. I never had the self confidence I deserved and a lot of damage was done. I still don't have the body and I am working on the wardrobe. I hope to one day realize the full potential of my self confidence to undo a lot of the damage that has been done.<br />
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Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-9763718554772686162014-03-11T16:28:00.000-07:002014-03-11T16:28:19.369-07:00K-i-s-s-i-n-g<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I stumbled across this little video this morning.</div>
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(Don't worry, they are just kissing!) </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/IpbDHxCV29A?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
Twenty people are asked to kiss a total stranger. And the results are beautiful! No two couples, introductions, approach, kisses or experience is the same. Every couple approaches this encounter nervous but with very little hesitation. They each took the time to make it personal. There is laughter and pure joy from everyone.<br />
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<img alt="Kiss ❥" src="http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/6a/ea/de/6aeade401db69e83b60336aff3c53bb2.jpg" height="320" width="228" /></div>
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So I began to ponder about how we unique every introduction and relationship is different. How personal do we make each encounter that we come across? There was real touch between many of these couples. How honest a kiss can make many of us.<br />
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Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-63417732509534939442013-11-09T23:11:00.000-08:002013-11-09T23:11:57.993-08:00Things to do when you turn 31This is what 31 looks like...<br />
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<img height="213" src="https://scontent-b-lax.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/968965_10200970848846991_802650302_n.jpg" width="320" /><br />
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Not too bad... considering I am now 31. (insert moan here!) I know I am not "old" but still the whole "in my 30's" tends not to help one feel like a spring chicken anymore.<br />
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Sometime around April, I was taking a nice spring evening run when I was reminded of my birthday. I was turning 31 in June and all I could think was: "How in the hell did that happen?!?!?" <br />
Turning 31 just appeared out of no where, and it hit fast. I am usually not one to dwell on age, well... I guess I didn't, until it mattered (meaning, I turned 29). When most people begin to dwell on their age, two things usually happen. <br />
<br />1- They accept their age, do nothing about it and accept their circumstances (and wallow in self pity about how old they are). <br />
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2- They do not accept their age as they live in denial and they go through a mid life crisis; which the likely results are ending up with some new model of a partner, car or boobs.<br />
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Me?<br />
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As much as I want the new boobs, I picked door #3.<br />
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3- you don't think about your age and you let life happen to you.<br />
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Okay, that is a half truth. I did think about my age but I let life happen to me. Turning 31 did not fill me full of those cliches, like: Try new things! Visit somewhere new! Be braver! Eat less, exercise more! or my personal favorite (to quote Stanley Tucci from the film Easy A): "Let's Bucket List this Bitch!"<br />
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My cliche: I found a renaissance or a renaissance found me.<br />
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I am only three and half months into this new year and what I have done, though it's not much, it's still a lot. So, as you approach your next birthday and Option 1 or 2 doesn't sound good, here is what I suggest doing:<br />
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#1- Go back to college!<br />
I went back to college. I didn't finish my degree when I went to college right out of high school but I knew that I needed to (one day) go back to school. After a series of bad days, a job offer in Alaska (which I, with dragging feet and tears, had to turn down) and a wedding; I sent in my admission application and once I was accepted, I quit my job. Going back to school, made me feel even older than what I already did but it gave me the advantage. I had years of experience and knowledge to fall back on. My first semester is almost over and I am getting decent grades but the new boobs are going to look even better when I hold up my degree next to them.<br />
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#2- Don't act your age<br />
How old is too old?? But then you are never too old. Right?<br />
I went back home to the good old Northwest for (another) wedding and spent time with my best friend Bunny and decided to be spontaneous. Involving an amazing studio called High Priestess (<a href="http://www.highpriestess.com/">http://www.highpriestess.com/</a>)... where I left with three new piercings.<br />
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<img height="213" src="https://scontent-b-lax.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/1237117_10201527688527635_926902516_n.jpg" width="320" /><br />
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<img height="213" src="https://scontent-a-lax.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/1238940_10201527688047623_367533918_n.jpg" width="320" /><br />
and the awesome guy who made it all possible.<br />
<img height="213" src="https://scontent-b-lax.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/1238069_10201527689327655_1359350860_n.jpg" width="320" /><br />
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Apparently, I am doing things backwards. You get the piercings when you are in your twenties and take them out when you are in your thirties but then I think of my aunt who is in her 40's and pierced her nose a couple of years ago.<br />
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My renaissance stems from the total melt down I had one month after my birthday. I began to wonder who I was. I had no clue who I was and I felt a massive hole inside of me. I was 31 and having a life crisis. Things I wanted to accomplish, hopes and dreams that I once had where never going to be possible for me. I literally went from taking care of one household to another. I got married at 19 and became a mother two years later. Things you should do when you are in your twenties; go to parties, date lots of boys, be stupid, go skinny dipping, partake of certain substances, backpack through Europe, get a tattoo, find out who you are as an individual, all of those things, I would never have the chance to do.<br />
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Turning 31 and having a life crisis doesn't mean I have decided to go off the deep end, live in denial and end up with something I really don't need. Instead I am taking this one day at a time. Taking the time to find out who I am. Doing things that I have always wanted to do but just in a different and better way. I will never have those "20's" chances but that doesn't mean that I don't have a chance. It just means that my chances have changed. Just like going back to school at the age of 31, I have the advantage.<br />
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Who said I have to act my age?<br />
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After all, age is just a number.<br />
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<br />Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-86659343273060312232013-01-16T19:40:00.000-08:002013-01-16T19:40:36.196-08:00Thank goodness for Penis Envy! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This afternoon I was running a few errands on my way home from work. I haven't been feeling great and have been currently fighting a nasty cold. I was on my way to the store to get my prescription when I came up to a red light. I pulled up behind a jacked up beater of a truck and right behind me was a highway patrol man. I thought nothing of this until I looked in my rear view mirror and noticed Officer CHIP was playing on his computer. Then the horrible thought crossed my mind:<br /><br />"OH $&%@#@*! My tags are expired!!!"<br />
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I remembered that my tags have not been renewed on my car. I played it cool and prayed I wouldn't get pulled over or that Officer CHIP was busy checking his Facebook Status. Then I looked ahead and noticed the truck in front of me. He too had not renewed his tags. In fact, the month of his tags was not even readable. The truck in front of me was high enough that the Officer CHIP got a good look at his license plates.<br />
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The light turned green and the line proceeded to turn left. I followed and the jacked up truck got ready to turn left onto another street. Just as the truck pulled into the turning lane: Officer CHIP hit his lights, followed the truck and pulled him over.<br />
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Now, I want Karma or what ever powers that be out there to know that I am not boasting. I am just grateful for the power of penis envy. Penis envy is what saved me from a ticket today.Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-6490956335038907272012-12-26T13:17:00.000-08:002012-12-26T13:17:20.660-08:00An attitude of Gratitude... conclusionSo here it is a month later and I am now finishing my November Thank Yous! The last week of November I was slammed with a lot of things and wasn't able to find the time to blog at all. Then the Christmas season started and I still had no time. <br />
I do realize this post is going out after Christmas but atleast I haven't forgotten and I am finishing what I have started. <br />
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I can't remember all the little things I had been grateful for in that last week but as I reflected daily upon those things I was grateful for, I saw so much more.<br />
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When I began to look for those many things to be grateful for my day felt complete. My month went by with a greater happiness. <br />
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I have a lot to be grateful for. So much more than what I blogged that month. Sometimes I couldn't decided what to blog about.<br />
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I counted my blessings and I found I couldn't count them all. Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-3007073754720390302012-11-23T18:18:00.000-08:002012-11-23T18:18:18.580-08:00#23 Hotstuff <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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He is the peanut butter to my jelly... the ping to my pong... the ying to my yang... the light to my dark... the good in all of my bad. <br />
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He is my better half... my lover... my teacher... my husband... my Hotstuff. <br />
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He makes me laugh. <br />
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He constantly surprises me. <br />
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This is my Hotstuff. <br />
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He is mine and I am his. He makes me better. For that reason and so many more, I love him. There are no words to express how grateful I am to have him apart of my life. <br />
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I love my Hotstuff! Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-23171665977886159512012-11-23T18:04:00.000-08:002012-11-23T18:04:34.812-08:00#22 Happy Thanksgiving! On this beautiful Thanksgiving morning, I found myself in the desert of Price, Utah. <br />
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It was about 29 degrees and I was about to run 8 miles. As the 2nd Annual Turkey Trot started, I looked around me and was humbled by the wonder and beauty I was surrounded in. At the end of this run, I was truly grateful for three things. <br />
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<strong><u>1. Mr. Teacher</u></strong><br />
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This is Hotstuffs oldest brother (and three girls). <br />
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When I signed up for the Turkey Trot, I thought it was just a 5k. Then when I double checked the info, it said it was a four mile course. <br />
"No problem!" I thought. "Four miles is just a little more than a 5k and I can do this!"<br />
Then I got to the actual race and the race was explained at the start. The race wasn't 4 miles, it was 8! The halfway point was at four miles. The great part about this Turkey Trot was you could go at your own pace: run/walk, ride; and you could go as far as you wanted. There was no first, second or last place. This was a fun run on a Thanksgiving morning. <br />
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I decided to run the whole thing... well, technically, I ran six and walked two. But I did all eight miles. So now, you must wonder what my run and Mr. Teacher have anything to do with one another. Well, here goes: <br />
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Mr. Teacher has taught me that when you are given no limits, you can accomplish anything. I realized as I was running through the desert that if I limited myself to a certain number of miles, I was going to struggle. He came to my mind and I knew that if I just ran and listened to my body, I could accomplish anything. <br />
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I accomplished eight miles. <br />
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<strong><u>#2 Willis Van Gough</u></strong> <br />
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This amazing woman in Willis Van Gough. She is an artist, wife, mother, grandmother, runner/athlete and super awesomeness! She is the one who puts together the Turkey Trot every year and this year she became my running buddy. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKA5DGrDY0foGefrZKULXBfMmR1daSKNLE8z1If-u3JCAVdB7knQD2WgQBdNpVpslhe4gS_fWtuZYWp4thkVDxYKjcAFbwS_UM_kM3F57B8-_-v2JwSTr3J6xwv5N93s9Lrp3E9JGY-M/s1600/Turkey+Trot+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKA5DGrDY0foGefrZKULXBfMmR1daSKNLE8z1If-u3JCAVdB7knQD2WgQBdNpVpslhe4gS_fWtuZYWp4thkVDxYKjcAFbwS_UM_kM3F57B8-_-v2JwSTr3J6xwv5N93s9Lrp3E9JGY-M/s320/Turkey+Trot+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(The last two photos, courtesy of Willis Van Gough)</span> </div>
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She was a great running buddy and were are now signed up for a half marathon in March. We kept pace with one another and I made it all eight miles with her by my side. <br />
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<strong><u>#3 "For the Beauty of the Earth"</u></strong> <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Last photo courtesy of Willis Van Gough)</span> </div>
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I believe that when God created the world, he took his time in Carbon County Utah. It is a beautiful desert, no matter how hot or cold. I found a deep appreciation for this beautiful creation, the Earth, that I have been blessed with. I love the great Northwest and all its trees. I love the beach and the way the warm sand feels on my feet. I love the desert and the mountains. The entire earth is a mystery and a wonder. This Earth a beautiful gift and I am grateful to live in it. <br />
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So after I have stuffed myself with Turkey, mashed potatoes and pie; I sat back and realized the many great gifts that I have and the many more gifts to come to be grateful for. <br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">Happy Thanksgiving!</span> </div>
Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-16686897655672290072012-11-23T16:44:00.000-08:002012-11-23T16:44:04.181-08:00#21 Mom and Pop and Daniel CraigI had the amazing opportunity to attend to 2nd Annual Turkey Trot in Price, Utah this week (more on that to come soon). I decided to go down and stay with my dearest friend and kindred sister, LJ. We decided to go out to dinner and a movie. We went out for dinner, received horrible service and missed the 7 pm movie. <br />
Since she had a sitter for her kids, we decided to go to the late movie and see Skyfall, the new James Bond movie. We double checked the times and knew that there was a 930 playing. Once we finally got done with dinner, we headed over to the theatre. Once we arrived, to our dismay, there was no 930 showing of Skyfall and there was nothing else good to see. <br />
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We talked for minute, totally at a loss of what to do and the owner of the theatre looked at us and said: "If you guys want to watch Skyfall, I can start it up again at 930." <br />
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So just for us, the owner of the theatre gave us a private showing of Daniel Craig! I mean, Skyfall. (Which is an awesome movie by the way! It is a must see!!!) <br />
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If I had gone a BIG theatre ( *cough cough Cinemark *cough cough) and missed the time the movie started then I would have missed the movie all together, no one would have offered to show it again. Plus my 32 oz soda and skittles only cost me $4 not $8. The consideration, courtesy and personal service is something that is forgotten these days. So I am truly grateful for small businesses, those mom and pop shop that are willing to treat you like you are important enough. <br />
Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-27669507099486073912012-11-20T14:07:00.000-08:002012-11-23T18:19:02.799-08:00#20 Mr and Mrs Orng Crushr Today I am most grateful for this awesome couple! <br />
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Mr. and Mrs. Orgn Crushr are about to become legal! This cute couple is just about to get hitched. Mr. Crushr is Hotstuff's younger brother and because of his job, he spends a great deal of time out, away from home. When Mr. Crushr comes home, it's a BIG deal and there is so much to be grateful for that he is home. </div>
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I have had the awesome privilege of getting to know Mrs. Crushr in the last year. Family means a great deal to me and getting to know Mrs. Crushr has been wonderful. I am grateful for the times we have had to get to know each other. I consider her a dear friend and sister (even if they aren't legal yet.)</div>
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Out of respect for their privacy and the current circumstances of their life, I can't tell you much more about this cute couple. But they are loved, missed and I am grateful that they are apart of my life. </div>
Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-35429781836795140712012-11-20T13:35:00.000-08:002012-11-20T13:35:16.606-08:00#19 Music of the Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I went for my Monday run last night. Once again, I was grateful for this run. </div>
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But it's time for another confession.... </div>
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I love music!</div>
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I have a very small addiction to Amazon.com, where I purchase about 98% of all of my music. (Disclamer: the only time I purchase from iTunes is when I recieve a gift card. I am not a fan of iTunes at all.) </div>
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I love Pandora.com. and the variety I can get from that website. I have discovered some great music from there. </div>
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I never go anywhere without my iPod touch and I would be lost without it. I couldn't run. I have a playlist called: Run Fatty!, the playlist I listen to when I run. </div>
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Run Fatty! includes: </div>
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Anna Sun- Walk the Moon </div>
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Build God, Then We'll Talk- Panic at the Disco! </div>
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Up Up & Away- Kid Cudi </div>
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Lose Yourself - Eminem </div>
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Sweet Dispostion- The Temper Trap </div>
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X Amount of Words (live)- Blue October</div>
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Shiver- Coldplay</div>
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and 25 more awesome songs. </div>
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I am all about good music! </div>
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I am a fan of Miles Davis, Billy Holliday, Miles Davis, Frank Sinatra and many others. I LOVE Opera and classical music. I love religious hymns. I love rock and roll. I grew up in the Great Northwest, where Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden and all things grunge shaped my generation, changing music. (Sorry all you hair band fans!) </div>
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Music is a great power in our world and can inspire. I am grateful that I can hear music; that I can feel it. There is freedom in music. </div>
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I am grateful for the sound of music and the possibilities it creates. </div>
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<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“If music be the food of love, play on,<br />Give me excess of it;” <br />― </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/947.William_Shakespeare"><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">William Shakespeare</span></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f4cccc;">, <i><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/3267921">Twelfth Night</a></i></span></span></span></div>
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Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-62705801939734764382012-11-20T12:51:00.000-08:002012-11-20T12:51:08.779-08:00#18 S-E-XI know... <br />
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This looks really wrong... <br />
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I have all of these wonderful heartwarming post about family, friends and all things wonderful. Then I go and ruin it with a post about sex.<br />
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But it is something that I just so happen to be grateful for. <br />
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I am not going to bore you with any details and I am not going to be a prude about it either. <br />
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I am grateful for SEX!!!! <br />
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It is wonderful, amazing, fun, sweet, and did I mention that it is awesome!?!?! <br />
There is pure power that encompasses sex. It has the power to create, to bind and it even has the power to destroy. I am grateful for the creation and for the binding that comes when I share myself with my Hotstuff. It strengthens our partnership and makes us better for each other. <br />
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I am grateful for sex and like I said... I won't bore you with the details. <br />
Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-33368584949724004702012-11-20T11:48:00.003-08:002012-11-20T11:48:48.836-08:00#17 Brudder Matthew <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Meet Hotstuff youngest brother: </div>
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Brudder Matthew</div>
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(he is the tall one the middle being mobbed by the ones who love him) </div>
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He was able to have come home for a few days this month. He is the reason why we had two extra Thanksgivings this month but that is not why I am grateful for him. The reason why I am grateful for him is kinda complicated. </div>
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A couple of years ago, I was at a turning point in my life. Brudder Matthew was the drive behind the positive change that I made. I was able to see the good in myself and be able to stand up for myself. He made me stronger.</div>
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I am grateful for what happened and even though the positive change came from a negative experience, he was the only one who could have been the drive behind the changes I made. He is the one who could help me find the strength to know that everything is going to be okay. </div>
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As Oscar Wilde once said: “Never love anyone who treats you like you're ordinary.” </div>
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Thanks Brudder Matthew for the strength that you gave me. </div>
Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-31835388453253204022012-11-20T11:13:00.000-08:002012-11-20T11:13:19.741-08:00#16 Bubba Jones <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I am so very grateful for my little boy- Bubba Jones </div>
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The other night, Bubba Jones was in the front room watching Phineas and Ferb. Everyone else was busy doing other things and I was bored. I decided that I wanted to spend time with him. I went out into the front room and he was on the couch. I cuddled up next to him but he didn't want me. He had finally had some time to be by himself and he didn't want company. I teased him for a while but finally he let up and the two of us watched Phineas and Ferb for a while cuddled up on the couch. <br />
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He is a miracle. <br />
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He has cortical dysplasia and every case is very different. But he has not let that stop him. He loves math and school. He is bright and imaginative. He is honest and funny. He sees things differently and has no fear to try new things. <br />
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He is a miracle and I am grateful to be his Momma. Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-4328535810687840612012-11-15T20:05:00.000-08:002012-11-15T20:05:37.028-08:00#15 Food, Glorious Food! I love food and I love to eat. <br />
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But most recently, I have not been able to enjoy eating. It has become a painful and naseauting experience each time I try to. <br />
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My most favorite food is my mother lasagna. I know exactly how she made it but I cannot make it taste the way she did. <br />
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I love fruits and their sweetness. I don't think I have met a vegietable that I haven't liked... except eggplant (and maybe a couple others). I love POTATOES and TOMATOES! I have a sweet tooth that I need to do better at controlling. I am a tree hugger but still enjoy a great steak every so often. <br />
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I am always trying new things in the kitchen. I am even experimenting with baking. GASP!!! <br />
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Like I said earlier, I am no longer find joy in food. So this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for food. I am grateful for the taste of peppers, potatoes, tomatoes, bread, turkey, cranberry sauce, gravy, pies in all their variaties and any other favorites that I have forgotten to mention. <br />
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I am grateful that even though I can't eat, I know that I have been bleesed with a bountious table full of wonderful things that tempt my tastebuds. <br />
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Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-52653582711704544412012-11-15T19:44:00.003-08:002012-11-15T20:27:09.830-08:00#14 I love to laughMy Wednesday started with laughter and didn't stop all day. <br />
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I love laughter. <br />
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I love the giggles of small children. Most especially when they are being silly or being tickled. I love a great story that makes everyone laugh. <br />
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I love to laugh until I can't breath. <br />
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Laughter invovles every muscle, every breath and is great for the soul. <br />
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I am grateful for laughter today because... I don't know, I guess I have never stopped to think about why I am grateful for it or why I love it. All I know is that laughter really is the best medicine to cure the hurt and pain. <br />
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I love to laugh and I am grateful for it. <br />
<br />Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090804593368699224.post-26893764172444519992012-11-13T20:45:00.000-08:002012-11-13T20:45:10.456-08:00#13 A mothers loveTo be fair, I can't do a post about Dad without doing a post about Mom. <br />
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Meet my Mother. <br />
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This last October, marked 9 years since she passed away. <br />
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I miss her. <br />
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It doesn't matter how old you will be, you will always want your Mommy. She brought me into this world and rasied me. She taught me how to read and write, how to cook and how to be a good homemaker. She taught me what to do and what not to do when it came to family. She was very athletic and a mechanic. I have a lot of good memories of her and a lot of bad memories. <br />
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She fought her demons everyday but now she is at peace. <br />
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Meet my Mom. <br />
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This beautiful woman is my Mom. I couldn't tell you about the first time I met her because I don't remember. Just like Dad, it was like she wasn't there one day and the next she was. She is an incredible hard worker. My last Thanksgiving with my Mother, we had 15 or more people over. Mom couldn't make it because she had to work. She came over after work and I remember her sitting down on the couch exhausted and ready to cry. She had missed out on Thanksgiving. <br />
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I remember that so very vividly because that is how I feel on a daily basis. She had gone to work outside her home and had done it for her family. Dad was going to school to become a teacher and Mom became a bread winner. I watched as she came into the house and sat down. Even though she was exhausted and ready to cry, I knew she was happy to be with her family. She was truly grateful to be with them... even if she had missed the turkey. <br />
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She has been the example of what I needed to show me that we might miss out on the Turkey but there is always joy in Motherhood. She is never afraid to tell me how it is, even when I don't like what she has to say. Because what she has to say is the truth. <br />
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I remember the day that I stopped feeling like an orphan. It was a sunday. I had gone up to spend a long weekend in Seattle with Mom and Dad. Church wasn't until the afternoon and Dad had early morning meetings. I was sleeping on the couch and he stopped to tell me that Mom was in bed and the spot next to her was open. <br />
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Now let me explain something... my parents have the most AMAZING bed ever! Now I don't covet but this is something that I am dire need of repenting of. So back to my story.... <br />
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I got up quickly and ran into the bedroom. I crawled under the covers next to my mom. We spent the next few hours just talking. In that morning, I no longer felt lost. I was no longer an orphan. For the first time in seven years and at the age of 28, I was found a place where I belonged. <br />
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Everyone needs an anchor to their soul. Sometimes we need a couple of extra anchors. I have been blessed with more than one anchor and I have Mom and a Dad to be one of those anchors. For that, one cannot measure the gratitude because it is eternal. Honey and Hotstuffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00646053058799340749noreply@blogger.com1