<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763</id><updated>2011-07-30T22:06:49.749-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Glimpse of My Life</title><subtitle type='html'>“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Jeremiah 29:11</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>338</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-23412100306581214</id><published>2010-05-17T19:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T19:53:25.236-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lisa Leonard Giveaway</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;My wedding was in the fall, so my entire wedding was full of fall colors. The oranges, reds, goldenrods, maroons, etc. of fall are my absolute favorite. My girls’ dresses were a deep, pretty red, my flowers were all fall colored roses (a Martha Stewart bouquet), and my girls flowers were gerbera daisies. alstra maria, and a mix of other fall colored wildflowers… the colors were stunning!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;* I had to explain my wedding for a giveaway from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://lisaleonardonline.com"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;Lisa Leonard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#339999;"&gt;... she rocks! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-23412100306581214?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/23412100306581214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=23412100306581214' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/23412100306581214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/23412100306581214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/05/lisa-leonard-giveaway.html' title='Lisa Leonard Giveaway'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4650476254077982417</id><published>2010-05-08T19:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T19:15:45.169-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lord, and let there be.... huh?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; "&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9966;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;what i hear coming from my munchkin's bedroom "hey, kids (talking to me and her dad), i'm ready for the sing along... are you ready? k, let's sing! but first, we haffa sit our bummies on a stool... ok, let's sing... shine jesus, shine fill this land wiss da falers glorby blaze spirit blaze set our hearts on fire flow wiver flow flo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9966;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;od the mations wiss truth and mercy send force your word, lord and let there be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;lice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF9966;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#FF9966;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;not so sure if i really want her to ask God to let there be lice.... but, at least she's singing praise songs, right!?!?! haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4650476254077982417?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4650476254077982417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4650476254077982417' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4650476254077982417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4650476254077982417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/05/lord-and-let-there-be-huh.html' title='Lord, and let there be.... huh?'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4878077578858608539</id><published>2010-04-25T17:49:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T17:54:01.889-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Little Bees</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S9S5qn-W-7I/AAAAAAAAAik/C68onLRfH80/s1600/Jamestown+and+Dance+Costume+077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S9S5qn-W-7I/AAAAAAAAAik/C68onLRfH80/s320/Jamestown+and+Dance+Costume+077.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464196389843434418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#996633;"&gt;we have 18 days until our parentals come down to see our munch in her first recital.... we are on a cleaning and organizing roll, baby! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4878077578858608539?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4878077578858608539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4878077578858608539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4878077578858608539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4878077578858608539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/04/busy-little-bees.html' title='Busy Little Bees'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S9S5qn-W-7I/AAAAAAAAAik/C68onLRfH80/s72-c/Jamestown+and+Dance+Costume+077.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4348782802756320844</id><published>2010-04-25T17:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T17:46:52.139-04:00</updated><title type='text'>morph</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S9S3oeNyN6I/AAAAAAAAAiU/Jv2VclT4Bck/s1600/haircut3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S9S3oeNyN6I/AAAAAAAAAiU/Jv2VclT4Bck/s320/haircut3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464194153840785314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;How does cutting a few inches off make my baby morph from a little munchkin......... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S9S3oZysw8I/AAAAAAAAAiM/t7YwNDL7TUY/s1600/haircut2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 283px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S9S3oZysw8I/AAAAAAAAAiM/t7YwNDL7TUY/s320/haircut2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464194152653439938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......to a little girl? For some reason I think she looks so much older. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#9999FF;"&gt;But she looks oh.so.cute. And, I love her even more than ever before :o) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4348782802756320844?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4348782802756320844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4348782802756320844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4348782802756320844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4348782802756320844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/04/morph.html' title='morph'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S9S3oeNyN6I/AAAAAAAAAiU/Jv2VclT4Bck/s72-c/haircut3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3604004493448988958</id><published>2010-04-11T12:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T12:38:14.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'>monsters, prayers, and animals</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;we went to early church this morning so i could go to church with my family, but still work to get my hours in for my other job(s). we were the only family there that had a child, so she was the only one up front for the children's message. it was hilarious. she was really hesitant to walk to the front of the church, and to be in front of all those people. the pastor talked about being afraid, and how Jesus is there to make us feel safe. she asked our munch if she was scared of anything. she piped up, "yes, i is scared of monsters! they is really, really bad. i don't like them &lt;em&gt;at all&lt;/em&gt;." the pastor then asked if there was anything we did before bed to make her feel safe. it took a little prodding from mommy, but she said, "we pray before i take my nap (that's what she calls it b/c a nap is shorter than going to bed for the night in her mind). we ask Jesus to keep me safe. annnnnd we.do.my.ANIMALS! it is so fun!" the congregation thought that was a little funny. then she didn't want to be quiet. haha. i love my kid!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;*when she says "doing her animals", she means that we look at the cross stitch my MIL made for her when she was born. it has different animals sitting on a shelf (ducky, bunny, elephant, giraffe, and bear). we point to each animal while she names it, and it also has her name so she spells that, too. it's been a routine ever since she was little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3604004493448988958?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3604004493448988958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3604004493448988958' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3604004493448988958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3604004493448988958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/04/monsters-prayers-and-animals.html' title='monsters, prayers, and animals'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8584612170881167762</id><published>2010-04-11T11:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T12:27:48.396-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Last 2 Weeks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;OK so... in the event of my absence, I have to make a list about my last two weeks. There were some highs, and some lows, as you will see. Here's the list:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*my gram passed away on march 29. that was a very tough thing to handle for a few different reasons. i was really close to my gram, and she was an amazing, caring, kind-hearted woman. she only had an 8th grade education because she had to help her family make money in order to survive. we lived with my gram and pap a few times. i hadn't seen my gram for almost a year, which is something i did not like. i wanted my little girl to know her better, especially since she will not know my pap until she meets him in heaven one of these days. all in all, it was a tough thing to deal with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*my mom, dad, brother, baby girl, brother, and i had a wonderful, personal memorial for gram. dad told us each something wonderful gram shared with him about us the last time he saw her. it was very touching. we also released yellow balloons and shouted "we love you, gram!". watching them drift away was really neat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*i went shopping for my girl. on this shopping excursion, i have unfortunately found out that i cannot buy as cute of clothes or as cheap of clothes as i could get for her when she was smaller. i spent $95 on outfits for this spring and summer, and literally got hardly anything at all. i was majorly bummed out about this finding. is there a rewind button so i can just keep her small? she had the cutest clothes, and shopping for her was a total blast. total. blast. not so much anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*on the trip up, my husband stopped for gas. while he was pumping the gas, the munchkin was watching him. she made this statement, "hey, mama, little girls don't touch gas like daddy does. no, little girls can't touch gas. it's yucky. but, you know what, mama? little girls can touch little boys!" i realize she didn't mean anything bad by it because she doesn't understand that kind of stuff yet {fortunately... and i wouldn't complain if she didn't understand that kind of stuff until she was... maybe like 45 or so}, but it just threw me off guard. she has a way of doing that kind of thing every once in a while. kind of like the day when she told me she and her friends like to "smell each ollers, and we get in big, big trouble". yeah, that kinda thing is sort of unsettling. it's nice to know my 3 year old smells her friends and touches boys. haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*i got a really big, major reality check that we need to get our stuff together. we have many, many aspects of our lives that needs a little sprucing up. we've known this for a while, but for some reason, it hit home even more last week. we're going full force, and it's nice having a husband that is on the same page as me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*we visited my brother's new apartment. he got a job at an attorney's office, and moved out of my parent's place. it's a really nice apartment, and i'm proud of him. there for a while, he was a little worried because he kept going on interviews, but nothing would ever come out of them. i'm glad that he finally got a job, and that he's more settled. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*my girl got to see and touch a horse for the first time. if i've ever seen an animal lover, it is definitely in my child. she isn't afraid to touch anything, and freaks out every time she sees an animal. so far, the only thing she's been leary of is larger dogs. but, when you're little and you have a massive "beast" coming toward you, it's normal to be a little frightened. after she's been around them for awhile, she is fine. the joy and excitement radiating on her little face was priceless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*i have gotten official, 100% confirmation that i have turned in to a health nut. i knew it would be hard to follow my diet really strictly while we were up there, so i decided to just kind of watch what i ate. i missed my tuna fish, oatmeal with blackberries, fruits and veggies, grilled chicken, etc. i also missed water. my parents have disgusting water at their house. it literally makes me sick. we are spoiled because we have an artesian spring that runs under our property, so we have the freshest, best tasting water. i drank hardly any water while we were there, and i missed it desperately. don't even get me started on not working out, and how badly i missed the YMCA. i've become a health freak for sure... and i am NOT complaining!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*i loved seeing all of the amish out prepping their fields to be planted. the manure didn't smell so wonderful. but i love, love, love spring, and watching the farmers plant their crops. the colors are a.ma.zing.  i just love it. spring and fall are my absolute favorite. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*easter service was amazing. it's so amazing to think was Jesus did for us. i know i am so undeserving, but He still loved me enough to die on the cross for my sins. it gives me chills! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*our puppers got groomed finally. we have a black pomeranian. if you don't know about poms, they are very, very furry. he has a gorgeous, soft coat, but it is so extremely thick and gets really matted. another thing that has been happening, is that his "sister" likes to feed him. he sits under her little table in the living room waiting for food to drop. sometimes, he doesn't have to wait. she enjoys flinging a spoonful of yogurt at him to then watch him fiercly lick it up and out of his fur. to say that his fur was disgusting is an understatement. and, yes, we clean him when she throws food in his fur, but there are still remnants in the thick, mangled mess even when we clean him. and, yes, she gets in trouble for doing this, too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;*it was nice sleeping until 8 or so every morning. i can't wait for summer! :o) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;i think my list is long enough!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8584612170881167762?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8584612170881167762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8584612170881167762' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8584612170881167762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8584612170881167762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-last-2-weeks.html' title='My Last 2 Weeks'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6703176254587790883</id><published>2010-04-09T22:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T22:49:59.311-04:00</updated><title type='text'>still kickin</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#996633;"&gt;yes, i am still alive and kicking... i know it's been a long time since i've posted :/ i've had a lot of things going on lately, but i am back home now... so a new post to sum up the last couple weeks will come tomorrow (and yes, it will probably be in the form of a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#996633;"&gt;list&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#996633;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6703176254587790883?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6703176254587790883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6703176254587790883' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6703176254587790883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6703176254587790883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/04/still-kickin.html' title='still kickin'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-322878306549844377</id><published>2010-03-28T15:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T15:29:10.550-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;I am writing this post with a sad, heavy heart. My Gram has been in the hospital for the last couple weeks. She went in because she was having chest pain and difficulty breathing. They told her she'd need a valve replacement, and a couple other procedures done to hear heart. The doctors said she had had rheumatic fever when she was younger, and it caused one of her valves to become thin and weak over time. I guess with her old age, the weak valve finally caught up with her. She also found out that she had some buildup in her arteries, and they were going to clean those out... basically it would have been almost like open-heart surgery. For an 80 year old, I don't know how well she would have fared after sustaining such a huge blow to her body. Well, her body decided to take a different route, and her ammonia levels started to rise. She became basically unconscious, and was pretty unresponsive for a couple of days. We were told that she probably wasn't going to make it, and to be prepared for her to pass away. Then, they got the ammonia levels under control. She finally was awake and coherent, and was able to talk to everyone. She began physical therapy this past week, and seemed to be making progress; although it made her extremely tired. Then at the end of this week, things started to take a turn for the worse yet again. My one aunt called my dad because my Gram was saying that she was ready to go, and that she didn't want to live anymore. My parents made the trip from Lancaster to Pittsburgh to see her. She seemed fine; she was talking, was awake and lucid, and even wanted to talk to myself and my little munchkin yesterday. Her desire was to hear my baby girl sing to her.  She sounded weak, but still sounded like my Gram. To me, there was still a glimmer of hope that she would recoup, and would get to go home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;I guess her desire to talk to everyone yesterday was her final goodbye. My dad called this morning, and said that Gram is in her final stages of life. Last night, the ammonia levels shot back up, she's unconscious again, and the doctor's said that it would take hooking her back up to machines for the rest of her life to keep her alive. The one doctor told my aunt that it would be best to just let her go. The ammonia levels will just continue to build up, and it will eventually cause her brain and body to shut down. So, now, we're basically just waiting for the Lord to take her home with Him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;It breaks my heart knowing that I won't get to see her again. I won't see her smile anymore, and my baby girl won't get to know her as well as I wanted her to. We won't get to see her this summer how we planned. We were supposed to go out to her house for Christmas, but our car needed fixed, and we couldn't afford the gas, tolls, and boarding for our dog. I am going to miss her so much, and going to her funeral will be devastating. I do find comfort, though, in knowing she will get to see my Pap again (he passed away 12 years ago this April 23). She has wanted to be with him since the day he died, and that has been something she's talked about often. I'm going to miss her sugar cookies, her pot pie, her sparkling blue eyes, her smile, the way she had to wear make-up to bed, and the way she always tried to make everyone happy. My Gram is an amazing woman, and she will greatly missed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Please say a prayer for our family... for traveling safety (there will be family coming from many different states), and for us to feel God's presence and peace during this difficult time. Thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-322878306549844377?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/322878306549844377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=322878306549844377' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/322878306549844377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/322878306549844377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/03/goodbye.html' title='Goodbye'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-2385635742013418769</id><published>2010-03-14T12:11:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T12:32:09.928-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Old McDonald</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50N-uvx5vI/AAAAAAAAAh0/AHvabtsJlrE/s1600-h/farm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448526495539652338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 108px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50N-uvx5vI/AAAAAAAAAh0/AHvabtsJlrE/s320/farm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;For some reason, it is my dream to have a small farm. Here is what I would want my farm to look like, and the animals that would be on my farm. I want an awesome, old farmhouse with a white, picket fence around the entire property. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50N-R5tsLI/AAAAAAAAAhs/jA_GtapXvrE/s1600-h/barn.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448526487796691122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50N-R5tsLI/AAAAAAAAAhs/jA_GtapXvrE/s320/barn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;A big, red, clean barn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50N-MacCsI/AAAAAAAAAhk/NfBf-j9MOJM/s1600-h/cow.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448526486323333826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50N-MacCsI/AAAAAAAAAhk/NfBf-j9MOJM/s320/cow.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;A few Holstein cows (like 5 or so)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50M9FivPhI/AAAAAAAAAhc/C-4kltrTKUY/s1600-h/sheep.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448525367787601426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50M9FivPhI/AAAAAAAAAhc/C-4kltrTKUY/s320/sheep.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Some sheep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50M8x2GZnI/AAAAAAAAAhU/IXJ9VSu1T7U/s1600-h/horses.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448525362500101746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50M8x2GZnI/AAAAAAAAAhU/IXJ9VSu1T7U/s320/horses.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50M8oJYHjI/AAAAAAAAAhM/23eGaG67Od4/s1600-h/horses.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;4 or 5 horses .. one definitely being all black with a white star on its forehead (like the first one in the picture on the left hand side). It's "official" name would be "My Shining Star in the Midnight Sky", and I would call him "Star" for short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50LEVPH0rI/AAAAAAAAAhE/KxdmKmtEQLg/s1600-h/chickens.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448523293236122290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 116px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50LEVPH0rI/AAAAAAAAAhE/KxdmKmtEQLg/s320/chickens.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Some chickens so we could have our own eggs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50LEMHStsI/AAAAAAAAAg8/3DizmF-2aWE/s1600-h/alpacas.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448523290787362498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 97px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50LEMHStsI/AAAAAAAAAg8/3DizmF-2aWE/s320/alpacas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Alpacas (they are so cute)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50LD7FDdxI/AAAAAAAAAg0/UM6sDPZcOVE/s1600-h/cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448523286214571794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50LD7FDdxI/AAAAAAAAAg0/UM6sDPZcOVE/s320/cat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a bunch of long haired cats... multi-colored, black, gray, white.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50K48PBLbI/AAAAAAAAAgs/BcW7Era7dfg/s1600-h/barn.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;It'll never happen. But, a girl can dream, can't she? Eventually I do want a horse, though... probably many years down the road.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-2385635742013418769?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/2385635742013418769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=2385635742013418769' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2385635742013418769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2385635742013418769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/03/old-mcdonald.html' title='Old McDonald'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S50N-uvx5vI/AAAAAAAAAh0/AHvabtsJlrE/s72-c/farm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6295185304682006035</id><published>2010-03-13T15:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T16:02:28.955-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ExCiTeD!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S5v6-208vSI/AAAAAAAAAgU/CzvIm3KstRY/s1600-h/downsized_0313001432a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448224132011179298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S5v6-208vSI/AAAAAAAAAgU/CzvIm3KstRY/s320/downsized_0313001432a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;I have been wanting a new table for a long time. When we got married, my Gram gave us her cheap, old table, and that worked for a while. That is until my husband began splitting the chairs in half because they were cheaply made, and were just pieces of wood glued together. Therefore, we haven't had a table for a really, really long time. I've missed sitting at a table to eat dinner, and have hated eating in front of the TV. Especially now that we have a little kiddo, and we want to teach her table manners. Plus, the family time is just amazing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Well, my mother-in-law offered to let part of our Christmas present for 2009 and 2010, and our birthday presents be money to put down on a new, good table. Then, we would be responsible for the rest of what the table cost. So, I went to an Amish store in town, and fell in love with a gorgeous table and chairs. The dilemma: the table alone was $850, and then the chairs were another $250 a piece. The table is gorgeous, but $1800 is a lot of money for a table and chairs, and that is without tax! We were bound and determined to figure out how to get that table and chairs, though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Fast forward to today. The girl I work with loves to go to stores and just look around. She's very much like me, and stores with antiques/country items are her favorite. There is a store about 20 minutes away that I've been dying to go to for a while, but my husband is NOT the shopping/perusing kinda guy. So, we decided to check out this store to see what it had inside. Both of us immediately fell in love with that country store smell, and decor. (That is one of my favorite things about Amish country where my parents live... the country themed stores!) While walking around, I found the table in the picture above. I saw a tag sticking off of it, and I was afraid to look. When I did look, I was so insanely excited I couldn't stand myself. It is a solid oak set (those are seriously some of the HEAVIEST chairs I've lifted in my life), and it is gorgeous!!!! Plus, it has the carved pedastol base the one had at the Amish store, too. The best part ... the table AND chairs (yes, all 5 pieces) cost the &lt;em&gt;exact same price as just the table at the Amish store&lt;/em&gt;. And, this is solid wood (guaranteed, plus you can just tell by looking at it and lifting it), it's gorgeous, and you can just tell it's heavy duty. We've already laid claims on this sucker, and I cannot wait to get it home. I was thinking that we wouldn't be able to eat at the table until at least August... but, this beauty is coming home with us in as little as two weeks! AHHHHHHH :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6295185304682006035?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6295185304682006035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6295185304682006035' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6295185304682006035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6295185304682006035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/03/excited.html' title='ExCiTeD!'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S5v6-208vSI/AAAAAAAAAgU/CzvIm3KstRY/s72-c/downsized_0313001432a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3279746974522353669</id><published>2010-03-13T15:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T15:50:17.418-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Official{ness}</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;i have been totally kicking it in the gym for the last 3 1/2 weeks or so. i have lifted lots of weights, have kicked it on the elliptical and treadmill, and even did a class. i've eaten healthy, have had a ton of water to drink, and have noticed a really big difference in myself. then, last week comes barreling in. i was PMS-y, crampy, craving junk food at an all-time high, bloated, and feeling just plain cruddy. not to mention my child had her little "episode", and that landed us in the doctor's office for a while. soo.... amidst my woman-ness {ugh}, and child concerns, i have been slack in eating right, drinking water, and going to the YMCA. however, i have not enjoyed one single second of the junk food, not watching what i eat, and not working out. this week was hideous. i feel different, i'm thinking differently, i just don't like the changes. that is why i am officially declaring myself as a health and workout nut. i miss it like crazy, and i hate how i feel. therefore, i will never again let my womanhood or anything else get in the way of me being healthy and reaching my goals. it's not worth it, and frankly, it wasn't even enjoyable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3279746974522353669?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3279746974522353669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3279746974522353669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3279746974522353669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3279746974522353669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/03/officialness.html' title='Official{ness}'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-2205505589391860081</id><published>2010-03-10T19:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T19:51:29.147-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Freaking OUT Calm as a Cucumber</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Our girl had an episode yesterday. She couldn't stand. Her legs were shaking. She was kinda not-with-it, and her eyes kept rolling like she was really tired. When she finally could walk she had to hang on to something to keep her balance. We thought she was just extra tired or something. But I finally was able to take her to the doctor, and they think she had a seizure. She is scheduled for an asleep and an awake EEG on April 2 so they see if it was a seizure; and if it was, if it did any damage. I asked for prayer on Facebook, and have had several people at work ask me how she is doing. Someone today asked me how I can be so calm when the pediatrician thinks my daughter had a seizure. My immediate, automatic response was, "She's in God's hands. I know He is keeping her safe, He knows what is going on, and knows how the situation is going to be handled. I'm not worried at all because I know He is in total control" They looked at me in awe. But, seriously, my trust is in Him. I put her life in His hands. He created her. He knew this was going to happen. I'm just blessed that He gave me the gift of being her Mom. I have no physical control over this situation, so why worry about it? And, I can rest assured that however this whole situation ends, it was in His plans. Do I think it is anything major? No, I do not. Do I pray that it isn't? Yes, I do. But, do I have an ounce of control or say? Nope. She's in the best hands she can possibly be in, and I find so much comfort in that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-2205505589391860081?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/2205505589391860081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=2205505589391860081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2205505589391860081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2205505589391860081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-freaking-out-calm-as-cucumber.html' title='I&apos;m &lt;s&gt;Freaking OUT&lt;/s&gt; Calm as a Cucumber'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8464577862166359305</id><published>2010-03-10T19:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T19:38:45.437-05:00</updated><title type='text'>|love| me a letter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Dear YMCA,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;I apologize for abandoning you this week. We have had a really good thing going... actually, a really &lt;em&gt;great&lt;/em&gt; thing going. You are making me stronger, giving me more confidence, and making every area of my body shrink. I really like you. A lot. I think it is bordering on an obsession. But, we won't tell my husband, ok? It'll be our little secret. I promise to come back to you next week. I miss you... like crazy. When I come back, please don't be too hard on me, and don't make me ache. I guess I would kinda deserve that for being a bad YMCA lover this week. But, it won't happen again. I swear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;See you soon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#339999;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#339999;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8464577862166359305?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8464577862166359305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8464577862166359305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8464577862166359305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8464577862166359305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/03/love-me-letter.html' title='|love| me a letter'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-1179887945536208810</id><published>2010-03-01T20:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T20:39:05.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love {that happens to come from goats}</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Do you see the first icon on my sidebar over there on the right? --------&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Seriously... if you haven't tried goat milk soap, you are sooooo missing out! Click that little icon, and it'll take you to their site... Or, just let me tell you why it's wonderful:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*It is all natural &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*It smells a.ma.zing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*It makes your skin sooooo soft&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*You are supporting a single family instead of a big business&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*It's so much better for your skin than commercial soap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*Cute little goats help make the product (it contains real goat's milk) (well, and their 8 cute kids, too... like real, human kids... not goat kids)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*Once again it smellsssssss soooooooo goooooooddddd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*There are 30 different scents to choose from&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*They also have lotion sticks, which are also amazing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*They have soap filled luffas to get off your dry skin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*They have gift packs of soap so you can get 3 smaller size bars in a bag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*Each bar of soap comes in a muslin bag... and let me tell you, all those bags have been used for matchbox cars, crayons, hair "pretties", marbles, rocks, sticks... you name it, it's probably been put in a bag after mommy opens a new bar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;I seriously LOVE this stuff (if you couldn't tell). I look forward to using all of my soap (by the way, another added bonus... I bought 7 bars last May (and gave 2 away to a friend), and I just had to order new soap. That is 5 bars of soap in a 9 month period of time). My husband was even making fun of me when I found out I had gotten my last bar out of the linen closet because I started (a month and a half in advance) planning what scents I was going to buy. It came today, and I am getting ready (after I hit "publish post") to go out and sniff them for the &lt;em&gt;fourth&lt;/em&gt; time since I opened the box!!! You won't regret getting this stuff... it's amazingly wonderful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;***Disclaimer*** I was not asked to write this post by anyone.... it's seriously just how much I love this soap, and how much of a difference it makes in my skin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-1179887945536208810?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/1179887945536208810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=1179887945536208810' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1179887945536208810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1179887945536208810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/03/love-that-happens-to-come-from-goats.html' title='Love {that happens to come from goats}'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5212046484088948057</id><published>2010-03-01T19:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T20:20:12.864-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bolsday {Birthday} Weekend Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Saturday was our girl's &lt;em&gt;third&lt;/em&gt; birthday (can you say &lt;em&gt;major tear&lt;/em&gt;). The last three years have gone by entirely too quickly. I need to find the rewind button that is hidden somewhere so I can make these days last just a little bit longer. I know it's out there... I just have to find it.. okay, or maybe it's just wishful thinking. But still. We had a fantastical weekend with our families... annnnddddd what way do you think I will use tell you all about our weekend? {Don't say a list because I so do.not. love, adore, need lists} Okay, maybe it is a list after all. Here we go:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;*We made the trip up in 4 hours and 45 mins (that's like a record)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* On the way up we had delicioso Starbucks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* We had a wonderful visit/celebration with my in-laws&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* My MIL's 50lb (she's 4 mos old) Lab decided that my head was her favorite place to sit {no kidding}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* She also decided that my hair was her favorite snack... lucky me {fortunately for her, she's uber cute and sweet... so I didn't mind so much}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* They got the munch an adorable cupcake cake of Elmo's head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* The child used the red icing from the cake for lipstick...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* The "lipstick" went from her hair down to her toes... literally&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* But, she had fun, and that's all that matters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* We got to sleep in Saturday morning {pathetic when 8:00 is considered "sleeping in"}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* We had a fun day with my mom, dad, and brother &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* The girls went to the Disney store and scored some pretty cool stuff (and a lot of it) for only $32&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* The munch also got some cute new Stride Rite kicks for the spring/summer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* We had Olive Garden take-out for dinner {can you say YUMMMM}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* At my parent's we had a red Tinkerbell cake {requested by the princessa herself}, and she didn't make such a mess out of that one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* We got to go to church (with my two jobs, right now we don't make it there much, unfortunately... hopefully&lt;em&gt; soon&lt;/em&gt;) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* Sunday morning, while the hubs was in the shower and the kid was next to me in bed, she snuck out while I was in my not-quite-awake-but-not-asleep groggy mode... after she snuck out she exclaimed, "Oh, &lt;em&gt;mama&lt;/em&gt;... my lips are so dry. I need fish stick, and I finded a &lt;em&gt;big&lt;/em&gt; fish stick" As I looked over to find out what this "big fish stick" was... I learned that her interpretation of a big fish stick just happens to be... her uncle's Old Spice Deodorant... that she figured out how to get the cap off of... and proceeded to wipe it all.over.her.face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* We visited with my FIL (who does not live with my MIL) before we headed home. It's nice to see that he actually wants to make up for his mistakes and have a relationship with his son and granddaughter. Even though he won't come out and fully admit it, I think my husband agrees.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* We got home around 9 (we were over an hour away from our destination Friday morning, and stopped at the grocery store on the way home and made it home in exactly 6 hours... once again not bad!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;* I think I had one of the best night's sleep in a long, long time... it was great!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Now, I just have to wait for another month, and we get to go back north again *yay*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5212046484088948057?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5212046484088948057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5212046484088948057' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5212046484088948057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5212046484088948057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/03/bolsday-birthday-weekend-review.html' title='Bolsday {Birthday} Weekend Review'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-7216584451851113519</id><published>2010-02-23T16:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T16:47:03.607-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ha</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;M- "Daaaaaaadddddddd...&lt;em&gt;MAKE.ME.A.PEANUT.JELLY.SCHANWICH.RIGHT.NOW.UGH&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;A- "That is &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; how you ask, young lady. You need to use your manners"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;M- "I already did lose my manners free times, and you still not listened to me! Ugh"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;A - "That is true, baby. Daddy hasn't listened to you. I'm sorry for not listening. But, you need to use a nice-girl voice all the time, ok?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;M -"Ok, Daddy, if you lose your listening ears I will lose my nice-girl voice"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;haha... I &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; them&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-7216584451851113519?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/7216584451851113519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=7216584451851113519' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7216584451851113519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7216584451851113519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/ha.html' title='ha'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8784991136026294337</id><published>2010-02-21T13:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T13:17:50.665-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have to Read a What?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S4F4kRav9pI/AAAAAAAAAgM/yXQ0mNMSxGQ/s1600-h/image002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440762389386491538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 312px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S4F4kRav9pI/AAAAAAAAAgM/yXQ0mNMSxGQ/s320/image002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;This explains my job to a "T"... and I only teach 9 year olds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8784991136026294337?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8784991136026294337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8784991136026294337' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8784991136026294337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8784991136026294337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-have-to-read-what.html' title='I Have to Read a What?'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S4F4kRav9pI/AAAAAAAAAgM/yXQ0mNMSxGQ/s72-c/image002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4206317583146159571</id><published>2010-02-21T10:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T10:55:04.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Convo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;On my way to work this morning, a little bird flew out from the brush on the side of the road. Sadly, it did a head-on with the car, and bounced up in to a pile of snow. I absolutely hate hitting animals, and in my period of grief, I had to call my husband. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Me: Hey, babe, I'm really upset&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;AT: Why, what's wrong? Is everything OK?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Me: Yeah, everything is fine... I just feel bad because I hit a bird, and watched it bounce up in to a pile of snow on the side of the road.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;AT: You're upset because you hit a bird?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Me: YES! This is only the second animal that I've ever hit. I actually cried when I hit the rabbit, at least I'm not crying!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;AT: Babe, it's really, OK. I mean, it's just a bird. You did population control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Me: But, what if it was a mama bird, now her babies will die!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;AT: Ummm... it's winter, baby birds aren't born in the winter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Me: Well... she could have eggs laid already, and maybe she was sitting on them so they will hatch this spring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;AT: Then, they will become cat food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Me: You're really not making me feel better about murdering a bird with a car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;AT: Hun, it's the circle of life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Me: Oh, so you're telling me that my fate is getting smacked by a car? That makes me feel tons better!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;AT: All I can really do to that comment is laugh. You're nuts, you know that? But I love you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4206317583146159571?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4206317583146159571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4206317583146159571' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4206317583146159571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4206317583146159571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/convo.html' title='Convo'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-9211030374827097079</id><published>2010-02-21T10:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T10:43:51.591-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Will Work For Food....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S4FT1Er4M7I/AAAAAAAAAgE/iLWz_SvtJMY/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440721996096222130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S4FT1Er4M7I/AAAAAAAAAgE/iLWz_SvtJMY/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;KEURIG! I have so decided that I need, ok maybe more want, a Keurig desperately. While it isn't in our monthly budget plan, I am going to work until I find a way to purchase one. I start a new diet tomorrow, and I have to drink coffee every day. My coffee-brewing skills totally suck, so I have decided I need a machine that will make great tasting coffee for me to enjoy every single day. All I have to do is find a way to get one! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-9211030374827097079?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/9211030374827097079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=9211030374827097079' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/9211030374827097079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/9211030374827097079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/will-work-for-food.html' title='Will Work For &lt;s&gt;Food&lt;/s&gt;....'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S4FT1Er4M7I/AAAAAAAAAgE/iLWz_SvtJMY/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4578565254745184716</id><published>2010-02-19T17:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T17:16:05.441-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fe Fi Fo Fum</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;My child {you know, the sweet, cute, darling, &lt;s&gt;innocent&lt;/s&gt;, crazy one I blog about on a regular basis} was having a conversation with her father Wednesday evening. After a little while, she decided to start pushing some buttons {surprise, surprise} to see what she could get away with. Her dad told her that she absolutely could not do what she had asked to do (I don't remember exactly what it was). She stopped, waited for a second, and you could just see the light-bulb go *BING* in her little head. She proceeded to hold up her fist, and ball one finger up at a time while saying "Feeee Fiiiiii Foooooo Fuuummmmm YOU BETTER RUN", and then she shook her fist at him. What.A.NUT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4578565254745184716?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4578565254745184716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4578565254745184716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4578565254745184716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4578565254745184716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/fe-fi-fo-fum.html' title='Fe Fi Fo Fum'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-1128133039368380319</id><published>2010-02-14T21:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T21:16:21.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>can't w8</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;tomorrow afternoon... at 3:30 (maybe earlier if we have another snow day, and i can make an earlier appointment).... this is what i am impatiently waiting for... so excited... so ready... giddy beyond belief.... :o) i'll update tomorrow, as soon as i know all the details.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-1128133039368380319?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/1128133039368380319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=1128133039368380319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1128133039368380319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1128133039368380319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/cant-w8.html' title='can&apos;t w8'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4033254682329997538</id><published>2010-02-14T21:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T21:13:40.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>{My} Perfect Vday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S3itYM0tAzI/AAAAAAAAAf8/llvuzvc9tho/s1600-h/meds.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438287181320618802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S3itYM0tAzI/AAAAAAAAAf8/llvuzvc9tho/s320/meds.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;My boy knew exactly what I needed to make this Vday perfect. He was 100% spot on with what he provided for my day. So glad he knows me, my needs, and wants! :o) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S3itXmFqiBI/AAAAAAAAAf0/J7lRc6lOfaw/s1600-h/water.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438287170922776594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S3itXmFqiBI/AAAAAAAAAf0/J7lRc6lOfaw/s320/water.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S3itXgO_c-I/AAAAAAAAAfs/qM9z4WpyAeE/s1600-h/heat.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438287169351283682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S3itXgO_c-I/AAAAAAAAAfs/qM9z4WpyAeE/s320/heat.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4033254682329997538?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4033254682329997538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4033254682329997538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4033254682329997538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4033254682329997538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-perfect-vday.html' title='{My} Perfect Vday'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S3itYM0tAzI/AAAAAAAAAf8/llvuzvc9tho/s72-c/meds.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-7699272356879160154</id><published>2010-02-12T22:14:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T19:10:34.628-05:00</updated><title type='text'>toddler ter-mi-nol-o-gy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;our girl says things that crack us up all the time. i thought i'd share some of her cute, twisted, toddler ways of saying some things....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;real word ............... munch's word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Courtney Browning (her BFF)...................Courtney the Brownie {&lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; this one}&lt;br /&gt;Dora the Explorer...................................... Dora 'Spora&lt;br /&gt;McDonalds................................................. Dick Monalds&lt;br /&gt;Dentist ........................................................Dat &lt;em&gt;old man&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toes............................................................ Toesies&lt;br /&gt;Thumb......................................................... Sum&lt;br /&gt;No, thank you............................................. No, dank you&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me................................................. A'scuse me&lt;br /&gt;Three.......................................................... Free&lt;br /&gt;Birthday...................................................... Bolsday&lt;br /&gt;He's Got the Whole World (the song)..... Whole Bum&lt;br /&gt;Heavenly Father........................................ Heabenly Faller&lt;br /&gt;Remember................................................ Renember&lt;br /&gt;Vanilla....................................................... Vamilla&lt;br /&gt;Yogurt........................................................ Logurt&lt;br /&gt;Bath........................................................... Bass&lt;br /&gt;Water........................................................ Waler &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Chap Stick .............................................. Fish Stick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Singulair (allergy meds)......................... Singulator &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Vacuum ....................................................Vackingyoom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;Lollipop..................................................... Wollypop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all the cuteness i can think of for now... if i remember anymore of them, i'll post them later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-7699272356879160154?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/7699272356879160154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=7699272356879160154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7699272356879160154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7699272356879160154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/toddler-ter-mi-nol-o-gy.html' title='toddler ter-mi-nol-o-gy'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5267656833103239289</id><published>2010-02-11T20:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T20:14:27.298-05:00</updated><title type='text'>mY cHiLdReN {in the form of a blurb-y quote}</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;"you know, my children just &lt;em&gt;do not listen&lt;/em&gt;. dey do not do what i ask dem to do. i can't believe dey &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; listen to me.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; ugh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. dey really &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; never, ever listen. and den, i just have to &lt;em&gt;freak out&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;this came from the mouth of my child... i never knew she had children, but she talks about them all the time. and, i'm glad they aren't mine... cuz they seriously &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; listen. like ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5267656833103239289?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5267656833103239289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5267656833103239289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5267656833103239289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5267656833103239289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-children-in-form-of-blurb-y-quote.html' title='mY cHiLdReN {in the form of a blurb-y quote}'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5705263786714121487</id><published>2010-02-11T20:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T20:10:06.011-05:00</updated><title type='text'>who knew?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;i learned a little lesson from my kiddo tonight while i was brushing her teeth. i was telling her that we need to take her to a dentist, and explained that a dentist is a doctor for your teeth. i figured it is about time, considering she'll be 3 in two weeks. while i was telling her about the dentist, i could see her little brain churning. then, she tells me, "oh, mama, you mean da &lt;em&gt;old doctor&lt;/em&gt; dat checks my mouf? yeah... i just tell da old doctor when he tells me to open my mouf dat i don't haves any animals in my teeeesss. and den he goes away!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;i think i am going to try this tactic when i go back to the dentist, and he harps on me for not getting my root canal done. i'll just tell him that i don't have any animals in my teeth, and he'll go away. who knew it was that easy?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5705263786714121487?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5705263786714121487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5705263786714121487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5705263786714121487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5705263786714121487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/who-knew.html' title='who knew?'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4125386300524655116</id><published>2010-02-11T11:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T12:02:07.664-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Week in Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;We have had almost a total of two weeks off from school. Here are some things I've done to keep myself busy (or the lack thereof):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;*mopped the kitchen floor twice (you can eat off of it, seriously)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* wiped down all the surfaces in the kitchen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* watched my husband freak out when the dishwasher decided it doesn't want to work anymore (being that it's only a couple years old, that sucks... but my husband knew it wasn't installed right and did nothing about it, so it's kinda his fault, too)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* spent mega time with my girl and boy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* watched my child dance to all of her songs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* cleaned and rearranged the munch's bedroom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* spent time with our faves &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* cooked some pretty awesome dinners&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* set up a meeting for tomorrow morning (this would mean that i actually want to miss school tomorrow) that has a massive potential to change the rest of my life {yay}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* been totally, hatefully nasty to my husband .... i'll leave it at the fact that i was overcome by *something* and every once in a while, that something causes me to act like a polar opposite of myself... it's not an excuse, and i apologized in an immense way... but it's the truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* almost had to find a new home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* spent wayyyyyyyyy too much time on facebook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* read&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* did devotions more than my usual&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* was lazzzzzyyyyyyyyy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* helped my kid make her garden stepping stones for both sets of grandparents for their Christmas presents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* worked a bit for my second job&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* got addicted to judge judy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* bummed around in jammies wayy too much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* decided i MUST buy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://autocrat.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;autocrat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt; coffee syrup as soon as i get paid &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* picked out my scents for my next &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goatmilkstuff.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;goat milk soap purchase &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;cuz i'm down to my last bar (can't wait)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* contemplated calling the candle store in lititz, pa, and getting a couple more candles ordered for when we go up cuz we're almost out of them, too, and they are my guilty pleasure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* didn't exercise once cuz the Y was closed, or else i had other *issues* :/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* wish i would have done more, but am kinda happy with what we got accomplished&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;and, that's enough for now!!! :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4125386300524655116?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4125386300524655116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4125386300524655116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4125386300524655116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4125386300524655116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-week-in-review.html' title='My Week in Review'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8827967331498487337</id><published>2010-02-08T18:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T18:42:01.142-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whataya Want From Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;A friend and I were having a conversation about music the other day, and I mentioned that I &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; Adam Lambert's "Whataya Want From Me". It's a great song. Like great, great song. I'm surprised I actually like it because the screeching and stuff drove me nuts when I watched Idol. I digress.... The next comment out of her mouth kinda threw me for a loop. She said, "Well, with you being a Christian and all, shouldn't you be against him and his music because he's flamboyantly gay?" I didn't really know what to say, and kind of just left it alone. I'm the type of person who thinks of the great response &lt;em&gt;after&lt;/em&gt; the conversation is over. I need time to process my thoughts to give a good, solid answer, or in some cases a good slam. After thinking about her question, it really started to irritate me. Just because I like a certain kind of music or a certain artist doesn't mean I'm a "bad Christian". The music nor liking the person singing the lyrics makes me any different of a Christian. I don't go out and worship them or act on any of the lyrics that I hear. I still worship God, and strive to put Him first in my life. No music or person is going to change that aspect of my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt; Then, I got to thinking of another answer I could have used. I like all kinds of music... from country, r&amp;amp;b, hip-hop, rock, alternative, sometimes punk, Christian... all kinds.... and no artist from any of those genres is any different because they are all sinners. You can't tell me that the members of MercyMe, DCTalk, Selah (you get the point) are perfect people just because they sing Christian music and lead Christian lives. We are all sinners regardless. Adam Lambert's being gay is the same in God's eyes as someone else's lies, jealousy, whatever. The only being that is perfect is Our Great King... and nobody else can come close to Him in any way, shape, or form. Plus, who am I to judge Adam Lambert about being gay and his flamboyant-ness? I'm a sinner, and I do things I'm ashamed of all the time. I have no stinking right to judge him and how he chooses to lead his life. I have homosexual family members, does that mean I don't love them and won't support them? No. Would their lifestyle suit me? No, but who am I to judge them? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;So.... I am going to carry on liking Beyonce, Adam Lambert, Jay Sean, MercyMe, Rascal Flatts, Lady Antebellum, U2, whoever I please... because they don't change me or change the relationship with the One I desire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8827967331498487337?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8827967331498487337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8827967331498487337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8827967331498487337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8827967331498487337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/whataya-want-from-me.html' title='Whataya Want From Me'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8975336165750210280</id><published>2010-02-08T16:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T16:05:10.838-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye, Bye Miss American Pie Spring Break :(</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the hubs just texted me (i'm finally getting some hours in for my extra job(s)... thank goodness), and told me that we do not have school again tomorrow. i seriously don't think we're ever going back to school. tomorrow will be our seventh day being off... this is starting to get a little frustrating.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i'm guessing we are going to have to say goodbye to our spring break... which will kill me because we were going to go to PA for a good chunk of that week. and there are times when i just need to go home. by april, it will be one of the times that i need to go home. plus, the students (and teachers) not having a break from february to the second week of june does not sound appealing in the least, either. they're having a meeting on wednesday to figure out how we're going to make up all of these days. i'm keeping my fingers, toes, eyes, arms, and legs crossed that we do not have saturday school and we do not lose our spring break. we'll see how much all of this crossing works!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8975336165750210280?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8975336165750210280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8975336165750210280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8975336165750210280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8975336165750210280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/bye-bye-miss-american-pie-spring-break.html' title='Bye, Bye &lt;s&gt;Miss American Pie&lt;/s&gt; Spring Break :('/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5240788941678106446</id><published>2010-02-07T08:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T08:51:13.319-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Suck It Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;Have you ever been at the point in your life where you want something so badly, and you know that it is up to you, and only you, to get this specific "something" done? Nobody else can do it but you. Nobody can make you do it, you need to find the willpower and stick-to-it-ness inside yourself, and just get it done. I am at that point right now. I have a major, major goal that I want and &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; to accomplish. It's a pretty major thing that needs to be taken care of, too. I know that I can only do this myself... nobody can tell me that I have to do it, and nobody can make me do it, either. I'm the only living being that I can count on to get this taken care of, and what I'll get out of it is the amount of effort I put in to it. For the last couple years, I have started and stopped, done really well and then just put no effort forth what-so-ever. I'm kind of like a roller-coaster train wreck. If I don't see exactly what I want to see happening, I'm done. I get frustrated, overwhelmed, and mad... then I give up. I need to change those behaviors because everything is riding on me, on my head. I'm the only party responsible for my actions, and whether I get done what I need to do. So, it is basically time for me to suck it up, realize I am in this for the long haul, set small goals, accomplish them, and reach my biggest goal. It will be amazing when it finally comes. But, I cannot give up and throw in the towel. When I get frustrated, I can't just crash and burn.. I've got to pick up where I left myself, and just keep going. Cuz if I quit, there will be nobody who can make me change my ways, and force me to do this. It's kind of scary realizing that I cannot rely on anyone else to help me get this done (here in the physical world.. like, I cannot have someone in my face yelling at me telling me what I need to do), and that I have myself (the person who has given up so.many.times.) to rely on to accomplish this goal. When I suck it up and just do this, I am also proving that I believe that God is going to carry me through everything. Because He is seriously the &lt;em&gt;only &lt;/em&gt;One, besides my willpower-less self, who can get me where I need to be. Your prayers will also greatly help, too, and will be &lt;em&gt;greatly, greatly&lt;/em&gt; appreciated!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5240788941678106446?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5240788941678106446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5240788941678106446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5240788941678106446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5240788941678106446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/have-you-ever-been-at-point-in-your.html' title='Suck It Up'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-434166576666703478</id><published>2010-02-06T15:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T15:26:42.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter ~ Take Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Dear Snow,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;I am writing this letter to you to find out if you are &lt;em&gt;ever going to stop falling&lt;/em&gt;? Like, ever ever? I enjoyed you the for the first 10 inches you blanketed us with in December. It was really pretty. And, it also didn't cause us to change our plans for Christmas. I, the silly person that I am, thought you would be done with us down here; because let's face it, we usually just get ice in this part of the state. But, no, you had other plans. You decided to pile another 10-15 inches on us last weekend. This, in turn, caused us to miss an entire week of school, caused me to not get my hours in for my second/third job(s), and made me kind of go a little stir-crazy. Five days stuck in your house is quite a lot, don't you think? However, you still found it necessary to give us yet another 10 inches this weekend (so far, including some sleet, too). I predict this will cause us to be out of school again until at least Wednesday, maybe more. And, now, I have two weekends, yes, two short weekends (depending on whether you decide to dump on us again next weekend), to get my entire 40 hours of work in from my two extra jobs to meet my hour requirement for the month. That is going to kick my hiney. So, snow, I am begging, even &lt;em&gt;pleading&lt;/em&gt;, for you to  stop. Please? My spring break is probably going to be ruined, on top of the extra money I need to pay our bills. If you loved me at all, you would just decide to taper off, and let no more flakes fall. If it starts icing on Tuesday, I will have a letter ready for the ice, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Thank You Kindly,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;A Stir-Crazy, Batty Woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-434166576666703478?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/434166576666703478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=434166576666703478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/434166576666703478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/434166576666703478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/letter-take-three.html' title='Letter ~ Take Three'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-7448089077603135184</id><published>2010-02-03T15:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T15:17:00.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Future B.E.P. in Da House</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To begin this post, I have to admit that I like to listen to R&amp;amp;B, Hip-Hop, and Rap every once-in-a-while... especially when I work out. My munchkin has figured out how to get my I-pod to work, and puts the earphones in her little ears and dances in to oblivion. She's going to be an insane dancer one of these days. You just wait and see. I digress... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here is the scene at our house last night (we've had 3 snow days so far, and we're all going a little stir crazy, which doesn't help the situation): The munchkin goes to the sweeper, pulls off one of the extensions to help you reach clear down in the couch, chair, etc, and starts swaying back and forth. She uses the sweeper extension as a microphone. Then, she starts belting out words. "I gotta feeling... that tonight's gonna be a good night, that tonight's gonna be a good night, that tonight's gonna be a good, good, night... oooooooo hhhoooooooo" and so on. She even sings the correct amount of times before you say "good, good night". She also likes to sing country, and belts "Big, Green Tractor" with the best of them, and spices it up with a little "Single Ladies" by Beyonce. We don't need to go to any concerts when we have a future Black Eyed Pea in the house, or a country or R&amp;amp;B star. Take your pick... she's cute enough to draw in a ton of fans, too!! Ha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-7448089077603135184?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/7448089077603135184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=7448089077603135184' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7448089077603135184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7448089077603135184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/future-bep-in-da-house.html' title='Future B.E.P. in Da House'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4936219050268635818</id><published>2010-02-02T14:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T14:10:16.298-05:00</updated><title type='text'>random thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;since when is sex needed to sell cereal? seriously general mills??? just had to get that off my mind. it's sad what this world is coming to, really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4936219050268635818?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4936219050268635818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4936219050268635818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4936219050268635818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4936219050268635818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/random-thought.html' title='random thought'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6634664993410569564</id><published>2010-02-01T20:10:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T20:25:00.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>About.Face</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S2d9IM-RslI/AAAAAAAAAfk/LFmhE66voOg/s1600-h/st.ives.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433449055320650322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 154px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S2d9IM-RslI/AAAAAAAAAfk/LFmhE66voOg/s320/st.ives.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My Gram (dad's mom) has told me for &lt;em&gt;years&lt;/em&gt; that it is important to take care of my skin. We are talking about a lady who washes her face twice a day (morning and night), then she reapplies makeup after each face wash. Her motto is "You never know what time of day you are going to have to see someone. If you have to go to the hospital in the middle of the night, you want your face to look good, at least!" I wish I would have listened to her, and heeded her advice. Now that I am 30 (still, yikes), I am really regretting that I have chosen not to do so. However, it's better to start now than never, so I have gotten myself some products to help me take better care of my skin. Well, the Clinique isn't new, it's just been unused mostly up until this point. From now on, I am washing my face twice a day, and doing St. Ives Apricot scrub every 3 days. It feels so good on my skin... sloshing off the dead skin cells makes everything feel so soft and smooth. Here's to hoping that my new "about face" attitude works... taking care of my skin can't hurt!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S2d8Mp8A7KI/AAAAAAAAAfc/H0lXpEL06Y0/s1600-h/clinique.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433448032303639714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S2d8Mp8A7KI/AAAAAAAAAfc/H0lXpEL06Y0/s320/clinique.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S2d8MdtXsFI/AAAAAAAAAfU/qXESZGY3LZo/s1600-h/st.ives.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S2d8MdtXsFI/AAAAAAAAAfU/qXESZGY3LZo/s1600-h/st.ives.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6634664993410569564?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6634664993410569564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6634664993410569564' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6634664993410569564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6634664993410569564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/aboutface.html' title='About.Face'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S2d9IM-RslI/AAAAAAAAAfk/LFmhE66voOg/s72-c/st.ives.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8336470768266455548</id><published>2010-02-01T11:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T11:30:50.840-05:00</updated><title type='text'>*tear*</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;I got an e-card from my dad today. I guess I should have prefaced this with the fact that tomorrow is my **gulp**&lt;em&gt; thirtieth&lt;/em&gt; birthday. Wow, does that sound weird. I'm not in my twenties any more. Yikes!!! Anywho.. I got a lovely e-card from my dad, and it made me tear up. Here is what it said:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;In all the world there's only one you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;You have a laugh, a smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;A heart that noone else can duplicate or replace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;That's because you are a special creation of God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;He formed you with His hand and loves you with all His heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;You are a blessing to those around you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;And your life is a wonderful reason to thank God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;Happy Birthday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;Then, the message he sent was this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;Dear B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;We are so very proud of you and the fantastic Christian woman you have become. We thank the Lord for blessing our lives with you. Have a GREAT BIRTHDAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;We Love You,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;Mom and Dad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;Things like that make me happy. And, it's also nice to know that people can see God shining through me, even when I don't think I do such a hot job at my role of being a Christian. I try, but I fail way too much... too much to even want to talk about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8336470768266455548?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8336470768266455548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8336470768266455548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8336470768266455548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8336470768266455548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/02/tear.html' title='*tear*'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-9201635952490447618</id><published>2010-01-31T16:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T16:54:32.125-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter ~ Take Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;Dear Hubs,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;I am &lt;em&gt;begging&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;pleading&lt;/em&gt; for you to please stop sending our child to bed with her books. Please, please, please.. &lt;em&gt;pretty please&lt;/em&gt;?!?! I understand that she loves books... you could even say she adores books. However, when she is in her room with a book in her crib, she &lt;s&gt;quietly reads it and looks at all of the illustrations&lt;/s&gt; demolishes the stinkin thing. We've gone from ripping the binding off and tearing a couple of pages, to ripping out every blessed pop-up picture in an entire book. So, please, before you give her another book to lay down with, remember that she ruins every book you give her to sleep with. If this continues, her collection of over 200 books is going to slowly dwindle down to about 2. I understand she's adorable, and it's so hard to say no to her, but... &lt;strong&gt;say no anyway&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;Thank you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;Your Wife &lt;s&gt;(who also happens to be a lover of books, and if you keep this up, I am going to have to beat you with all of the books she's ruined until you get the fact that a 3 year old can't be given a book to sleep with... especially a 3 year old who undoubtedly destroys each book she takes to her crib)&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-9201635952490447618?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/9201635952490447618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=9201635952490447618' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/9201635952490447618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/9201635952490447618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/letter-take-two.html' title='Letter ~ Take Two'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4217589132964006558</id><published>2010-01-30T20:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T20:37:01.405-05:00</updated><title type='text'>f.y.i.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;the 9 inches of snow that fell over night are wonderful... and we probably won't be going to school for a good old while. also, if you ever need to know what the weather forecast is going to be, please just ask me. cuz the 65 nutty 4th graders most definitely proved that we were going to get some major weather. and they were right!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4217589132964006558?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4217589132964006558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4217589132964006558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4217589132964006558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4217589132964006558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/fyi.html' title='f.y.i.'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-303687648630676087</id><published>2010-01-30T20:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T20:30:09.811-05:00</updated><title type='text'>suits for all occasions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;my adorable kiddo informed her papa (my dad), after carrying it around all day long, that she needs to get her "babing" suit on to go play in the snow. i don't know how successful that would be, but man was she ready with that "babing" suit (it was actually her snow suit... she doesn't even have a babing suit for this season yet). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;annnd.... i'm back from the land of the dead. the 24 hr. funk hit me and my boy pretty badly. we've both laid in bed all day long or in the living room. the buckets of sweat from my fever breaking were &lt;em&gt;wonderful.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-303687648630676087?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/303687648630676087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=303687648630676087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/303687648630676087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/303687648630676087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/suits-for-all-occasions.html' title='suits for all occasions'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5070541001150275512</id><published>2010-01-24T16:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T16:05:06.252-05:00</updated><title type='text'>weird</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;would you find it weird if you were watching alvin and the chipmunks the squeakquel, and the twenty-something group of guys sitting next to you were doing more "oh yeah"'s, high fives, and carrying-on than all of the kids in the theater? i know i sure did!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5070541001150275512?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5070541001150275512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5070541001150275512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5070541001150275512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5070541001150275512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/weird.html' title='weird'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-2562308660061149187</id><published>2010-01-24T11:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T11:55:56.758-05:00</updated><title type='text'>amazing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Take a second... clear your mind of all the worldly thoughts that are going on.. your "to do's" ... what's for dinner... your schedule... just be still... take a deep breath... ready? now read this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Jeremiah 29:11-14&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;11 For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to &lt;em&gt;prosper&lt;/em&gt; you and &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; to harm you, plans to give you &lt;em&gt;hope&lt;/em&gt; and a &lt;em&gt;future&lt;/em&gt;. 12 Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will &lt;em&gt;listen&lt;/em&gt; to you. 13 You will &lt;em&gt;seek&lt;/em&gt; me and &lt;em&gt;find&lt;/em&gt; me when you &lt;em&gt;seek me with all your heart&lt;/em&gt;. 14 I &lt;strong&gt;will&lt;/strong&gt; be found by &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;," declares the LORD, "and will &lt;em&gt;bring you back from captivity&lt;/em&gt;. [&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="See footnote a" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jeremiah%2029:11-14&amp;amp;version=NIV#fen-NIV-19650a"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;] I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;how&lt;em&gt; amazing&lt;/em&gt; is that? He's amazing, incredible, wonderful, almighty, all powerful, the giver of life, and so many other things i can't even comprehend.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;i absolutely &lt;em&gt;adore&lt;/em&gt; these four verses, and read them often.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-2562308660061149187?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/2562308660061149187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=2562308660061149187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2562308660061149187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2562308660061149187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/amazing.html' title='amazing'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-7789862414917272366</id><published>2010-01-23T10:45:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T12:30:31.927-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful in the form of a *LIST* :o)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;I am thankful for:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;*a God that loves, protects, provides, and saves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* an amazing, wonderful, studpendous husband... he's seriously the best... and he's an awesome daddy, too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* the cutest munch in the land (she's nuts, but she's mine)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* a wonderful family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* my cute, furry pomeranian... i (heart) him more than a person should love their dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* the fact that i get to see my family more than a couple of times a year (i often struggle with this when i really miss my mom, but i do get to see my parents a lot more than other people do, so i need to realize that i am fortunate for that)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* extra jobs so i can provide for my family (even when i don't want to work 20 hours in one weekend, and would rather be with my fam and in church... i'm still thankful i have these two extra jobs)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* my house... no matter how cluttered and disorganized it gets, i have a house that keeps me warm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* the fact that our eyes were opened... rather wide, i must add... to the fact that we are spending between $350-$450 more a month on food (groceries, going out to eat, etc) a month than our alotted amount in our monthly budget... that's gonna help a &lt;em&gt;whole lot&lt;/em&gt;! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* the fact that my little nasty bubble on my eye decided to fix itsself so i didn't have to have the opthamologist cut it off *ick* and *OUCH*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* the fact that we've really taken a beating (mentally) and have realized that we need to make some changes financially because there is no reason why we are in the situation at hand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* i should be able to go down to one extra kid and not two by this summer, the latest probably the fall (we think.. and i hope)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* after this happens, even if it's not for another 6 more months or so, i'll be able to spend more time with my family and go back to church... yay!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;* that all of my "problems" pale in comparison to millions of those around me... i whine and complain, and let it all get me down, but in reality, my life doesn't suck that badly... it's actually pretty darn good... and if we made wiser decisions, it would be a whole lot better... we are all healthy (mostly.. hopefully the kiddo's immune system strengthens soon, and the kidney stones go away)... we have the most amazing kiddo ... we are all happy... we have jobs ... a nice house ... wonderful families ... an amazing God that sees us through each and every situation ... we are really blessed, in all actuality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;the list ends here... for now :o)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;PS.. can you say &lt;a href="http://http//www.daveramsey.com"&gt;Dave Ramsey &lt;/a&gt;"Total Money Makeover" PRONTO?!?! ~ live like no other! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-7789862414917272366?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/7789862414917272366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=7789862414917272366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7789862414917272366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7789862414917272366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/thankful-in-form-of-list-o.html' title='Thankful in the form of a *LIST* :o)'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-1003145161707012893</id><published>2010-01-22T18:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T19:02:56.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>True Life: I'm the Mother of a NUT</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;As my cute, adorable, wonderful, precious, amazing daughter was playing tonight, she decided to randomly stand up in the middle of her drum (that would be two markers banging on a metal 8x8" cake pan) solo. Once she stood up, she pulls down her pants and panties, bends over, grabs her bum, then yells, "I have a rear and a bum crack!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Seriously.... &lt;em&gt;where does she get this stuff?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-1003145161707012893?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/1003145161707012893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=1003145161707012893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1003145161707012893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1003145161707012893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/true-life-im-mother-of-nut.html' title='True Life: I&apos;m the Mother of a NUT'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-2928832974025109711</id><published>2010-01-20T14:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T14:39:47.350-05:00</updated><title type='text'>o.ver.whelmed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;i'm feeling a little overwhelmed lately. okay, well, maybe &lt;em&gt;a lot&lt;/em&gt; overwhelmed is more fitting. i have the need to vent... i've cried several times to my husband, but writing about it helps, too. here are the things that are making me feel this way ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* my girl has had strep 3 times in the last 2 1/2 months&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* i'm almost out of sick days because she's &lt;em&gt;constantly&lt;/em&gt; sick... it's always something, and the poor kid can't catch a break&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* on friday, we thought she broke her foot, and we had to go to the ER.. it wasn't broken, but it seems as if the sprain is causing her more pain and grief than a break&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* we got a call today that we had to come get her again because she had 2 diarrheas, and she's not allowed back at school for 24 hours... sigh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* my husband is having kidney stone issues again... this will be his 7th kidney stone in the last 4 years, and he'll probably end up having surgery for the 7th time in 4 years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* i have this funky, infected thing on my eyelid... i was told to put hot compresses on it, and that it would go away.... but it would get bigger first... it has gotten bigger, and bigger, and &lt;em&gt;bigger&lt;/em&gt;, but it isn't going away. it is starting to hurt, too.. not to mention that it is the thing people stare at when they are talking to me, so it makes me feel so self conscious&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* i need to have a root canal, but haven't been able to because of how sick my kid has been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* i haven't been to the orthodontist forever because of my sick child&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* it seems like the medical bills just pile, pile, pile... and we don't have enough money to cover them all... and we can't leave ourselves stranded at the end of the month, either.. ugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* i need to start grad school, but don't think we will get financial aid b/c our credit more than sucks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* it doesn't seem like we're ever going to get out of this financial hole we've dug ourselves in to... i think we're just sinking deeper and deeper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;okay... i think that's enough venting for now. if i do anymore, i will start crying again, and be a huge mess. please pray for me, for us.. it's so frustrating. i want so desperately for things to change, but it doesn't seem like they are going to, ever. it seems like they are just getting worse. any suggestions on what to do? if you have some, please give them to me.. i &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; advice and support! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-2928832974025109711?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/2928832974025109711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=2928832974025109711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2928832974025109711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2928832974025109711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/overwhelmed.html' title='o.ver.whelmed.'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-2109850982246830364</id><published>2010-01-17T13:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T13:25:36.175-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S1NVfwihjwI/AAAAAAAAAfM/-63E4mG8Esc/s1600-h/spring.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427775980005592834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 302px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S1NVfwihjwI/AAAAAAAAAfM/-63E4mG8Esc/s320/spring.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#990000;"&gt;i'm so desperately ready for color, buds, sunshine,  and life.... and not to mention, flip flops. spring, please come quickly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-2109850982246830364?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/2109850982246830364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=2109850982246830364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2109850982246830364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2109850982246830364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-so-desperately-ready-for-color-buds.html' title=''/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/S1NVfwihjwI/AAAAAAAAAfM/-63E4mG8Esc/s72-c/spring.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-215955730888448227</id><published>2010-01-15T21:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T13:30:01.026-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Dear Baby Girl, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;After seeing you for the past year-and-a-half since you have been able to walk on your own, I think it is time that Mommy just goes ahead and apologizes to you. I apologize that you got a double-whammy of clutzy genes. The bruises, bumps, scrapes, alligator tears, pouty lips, "Mommy it hurt"s, the tumbles, and all of the other stuff that wreaks havoc on your poor little body.... it is all Mommy and Daddy's fault. You will never be able to fully walk like a normal person and not trip. Your balance is going to stink your entire life. Who knows how many things you are going to run in to on a weekly basis. The bruises and bumps will be countles, so get used to them. I am so sorry that, when you went to kick that ball today, your little foot decided to go awry and do something totally funky. Mommy started falling down steps when she was about one-and-a-half, and Daddy when he was younger. Be thankful that our house doesn't have any steps. We will provide you with as many hugs, kisses, and snuggles it takes to make the pain go away; along with knee-pads, elbow-pads, helmets, and bubble-wrap for good measure. So, please forgive us. We gave you other great qualities, too.. You know, like your dimple, your blue eyes, and your adorable little personality. How about we concentrate on the good things we passed on to you, and not this one bad thing, K? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;We Love You (clutziness and all)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Mama and Daddy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-215955730888448227?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/215955730888448227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=215955730888448227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/215955730888448227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/215955730888448227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/letter.html' title='Letter'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8522299854823580308</id><published>2010-01-12T21:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T21:55:41.697-05:00</updated><title type='text'>beautiful</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;"Heabenly Fadder... I sank you for food, I sank you for my friends, I sank you for my Mommy, Daddy, and Coley, I sank you for my Jesus, I sank you for my family, I sank you for my bed and my room and my home, please keep me safe tonight and help me feel better from my yucky cough, I love you so, &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; much. In Jesus' Name, Amen"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;She said it... all by &lt;em&gt;herself&lt;/em&gt;. It was &lt;em&gt;beautiful&lt;/em&gt;.. Mommy cried, and Daddy beamed with pride.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8522299854823580308?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8522299854823580308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8522299854823580308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8522299854823580308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8522299854823580308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/beautiful.html' title='beautiful'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3625337825162692899</id><published>2010-01-10T10:03:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T13:32:39.122-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There isn't One</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;Lately, I've really been in tune with seeing God all around me, and taking in His wondrous blessings that He has lovingly given to me to enjoy. I've been often pondering how so many people can say that there isn't a God, He doesn't exist, it was all evolution. It just gets me how people don't open their eyes and &lt;em&gt;see&lt;/em&gt; what's around them. Here are some of the many things that I've been taking in lately that definitely prove to me there most certainly &lt;em&gt;is &lt;/em&gt;a God (this is just here in our physical world... not even tapping in to Salvation and the fact that He sent His only Son to die on the cross for my sins so I could spend eternity in Heaven with Him):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;*each and every snowflake is in some way different... think about how many snowflakes there are, especially in a blizzard... and to know that each and every one... &lt;em&gt;billions&lt;/em&gt; of them... are different. how amazing is that? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;* the fact that a woman is able to conceive, hold another being in her womb, nourish it, and then give birth to that being to love and bond with... that is one of the greatest miracles, a miracle that richly blesses my life each and every single day. it still stuns me that my daughter grew inside me... i fed her and sustained her while she was growing in me so she would be able to live outside of my inner being. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;* look at the entire human race... not one person is exactly 100% identical to another person... even if they are identical twins there is something that is different about them somewhere inside or outside their body. if God didn't create humans, then why are we each unique... why aren't we all just the exact same, and why don't we all have children that look exactly like the rest of the world? if we aren't God's creation, and He didn't "beautifully and wonderfully" make us, then why aren't we all blonde haired, blue eyed, 5'6", 160lbs, have perfect teeth, perfect skin, and have the exact same personality?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;* consider the animals around us... how many different shades of rabbits there are and different kinds of rabbits... long eared short eared, long fur, short fur... why are there black and white cows, just plain white cows, just black cows, brown cows, brown and white cows... why do some cows have horns, but others don't? why are there so many different types of birds... some of them being plain in color, while other ones are brilliant shades of reds, blues, yellows, oranges, and other colors mixed in? what's the point in having so many different breeds of dogs and cats? why aren't all frogs just green? who needs to see the most stunningly beautiful blue frog or an orange frog that is the most amazing color of orange you've ever seen? wouldn't one type of whale, shark, fish, seal, sea lion be enough? why do caterpillars need to build a chrysalis and turn in to butterfly? why does a caterpillar have 238 muscles in its head? why does an owl eat its food whole, and then regurgitate the bones and fur to make an owl pellet? why does a spider have 8 legs, spin its own web, and secrete an oil while it is spinning the web so it doesn't stick to the web it is creating? and this doesn't even touch the tip of how many different kinds of animal species are out there, and the wonderful, amazing differences in every single one of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;* we have 4 seasons in every year... each season has its own unique characteristics... the spring has warm and cool days... everything has new growth... bright, beautiful colors are starting to spring forth... the birds start to sing again... the flowers come out and grace us with their beauty.. there is a lot of replenishing rain.. in the summer there are hot, hot days.. there are wonderful sunrises and sunsets... we spend time with family at the beach, park, or just even outside... in the fall it starts to get cooler again.... the trees turn magnificent shades of orange, red, and yellow... animals start to gather provisions for the long winter ahead... bears have to put on extra body weight so they can &lt;em&gt;hibernate all winter long....&lt;/em&gt; there's a crisp, freshness in the air... it starts to get a dark a little earlier... there's a cozy, warm feeling all around... the harvest moon shines brightly in the sky.. the leaves fall to the ground and make the trees barren... in the winter there is no color... every thing is kind of drab, but it is beautiful in its own way... snow falls... you don't see many animals out because they are all protected from the elements in their homes...it gets dark really, really early... the frost glitters in the bright sunlight like someone sprinkled silver glitter all over everything outside... frost etches different designs on our windows... we can see our warm breath making steam in the cold air... water isn't liquid... and so many other differences&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;* rainbows... why do we need to see red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet? what's the point in a rainbow anyway?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;* what's the point in having different cloud types for the different kinds of weather? or having a moon that changes shapes depending on how it is reflecting the sun's light?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;* why do we have deserts, marshes, forests, rainforests, tundra, etc? why isn't the whole Earth the exact same?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;* why do we need so many types of bananas, apples, peppers, pears, potatoes, tomatoes, oranges, and every other kind of fruit or veggie we eat and enjoy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;All of this greatness I just mentioned is because He &lt;em&gt;loves&lt;/em&gt; us... He wants to share His creation with us... He gave it to us so we could enjoy it, appreciate it, and &lt;em&gt;marvel&lt;/em&gt; at His greatness. How awesome is that in itsself.. that He loved us so much that He thought to make all of these things in so many different ways? It's almost uncomprehendable! All of this stuff didn't just happen... they are this way because our Great Creator &lt;em&gt;made&lt;/em&gt; them that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;I think this is enough for now. I have challenged myself to see God in everything around me... and it is amazing what I've been paying attention to and pondering. It has most definitely made me more grateful for His creation, and the fact that He made everything different for me to enjoy; when He could have made everything the exact same. How boring would that be? So, I challenge you to see if you can start noticing the differences in the things around you. And, to be thankful that not one thing is exactly the same as anything else, then thank God for the fact that He made all of these wondrous things for you to enjoy. How can you not know there is a God with all these glorious things around us?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3625337825162692899?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3625337825162692899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3625337825162692899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3625337825162692899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3625337825162692899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/there-isnt-one.html' title='There isn&apos;t One'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6822400446600713990</id><published>2010-01-04T21:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T21:26:44.148-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Win {I totally should NOT be admitting this}</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;remember how i mentioned in my "Christmas.. list style" post that my husband thought a deer was a giraffe? i razzed him about that for quite a few days, but i got my payback. saturday morning, i woke up and went to my second job. being that i had slept in until 10 every morning because my munchkin is an amazing sleeper, i was quite tired. and more delerious than what i thought. i probably shouldn't have been driving with how tired i was, as i was staring off in to space with my half-conscious mind. well... it wasn't until my little *mistake* that i realized exactly how &lt;em&gt;tired&lt;/em&gt; i was. like i said, i was driving along, and i drove around a bend... in the middle of the bend is a cute little house with a pretty big side-yard. that side-yard contains horses, goats, and a donkey (i know this because i love looking at the animals). the owners of the house and animals had parked their truck right next to the fence, and there was a massive, round hay bail in the back of the truck. i noticed that a tan colored animal was standing there, and the color of the animal blended so well with the color of the hay... so what my delerious eyes saw was a tan animal with a massive hump on its back. yes, i thought the horse standing in front of the bail of hay was a &lt;em&gt;camel&lt;/em&gt;. so, who wins.. the camel or the giraffe? i'm thinking it's safe to say that we need to go check ourselves in to the looney bin. or move to africa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6822400446600713990?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6822400446600713990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6822400446600713990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6822400446600713990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6822400446600713990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-win-i-totally-should-not-be-admitting.html' title='I Win {I totally should NOT be admitting this}'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8654605825522354614</id><published>2010-01-02T12:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T12:40:18.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She's MINE His</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;"&gt;I love my girl so much... so, so, so much. I seriously never thought I would have this much love pouring from my heart. Seeing her beautiful personality, getting sweet hugs and kisses, hearing her cute little munchkin voice telling me how much she loves me, watching her interact with her daddy and extended family, and looking at her adorable little face all bring me so much joy. I often get teary eyed thinking about her, how much I love her, and how extremely blessed I am to be her mommy. She is one of God's greatest gifts to me. He formed her in my womb, and granted me the blessing of being responsible for raising her to love, respect, and know Him. I know she's His, just as I am, but I am so glad He let me borrow her while we dwell in our Earthly home. I cannot wait to see what each new day brings, to watch her grow and understand more, to see her love more, and to teach her more about her awesome Maker. I'm eternally and forever thankful to Him for blessing me with this precious girl... she's seriously the best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8654605825522354614?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8654605825522354614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8654605825522354614' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8654605825522354614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8654605825522354614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/shes-mine-his.html' title='She&apos;s &lt;s&gt;MINE&lt;/s&gt; His'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3342730338469794442</id><published>2010-01-02T10:54:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T12:31:04.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>MoNsTeRs AnD GoAtS ~ oH mY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;from the time she was two months old, my girl has been an &lt;em&gt;amazing&lt;/em&gt; sleeper.... and amazing is putting it rather lightly. yes, i was blessed enough to have my two-month-old sleep entirely &lt;em&gt;through the night&lt;/em&gt;. there have been numerous times when my husband and i have thought our girl loves her bed more than anything else because she hits the sack without a hitch. we tell her it's time for bed or a nap, she puts her thumb in her mouth, gets all cozied up, and lays down amidst all of her stuffed animals that overrun her crib. (and she knows every single animal that resides in that crib of hers... don't even try to take one out because when she takes inventory of her friends and one is missing.... watch out!) she lays in her crib and reads, sings, plays with her dolls, and keeps herself content; half the time we don't know she's awake because she's busy playing or relaxing. it's quite cute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;but, i guess all good things have to come to an end at some point in time {hopefully this won't last long} because the last couple nights we've put her to bed or down for a nap, she screams, wails, hollers, and acts just plain scared. we haven't been able to figure out what was up except for she didn't want the door in her room to be closed or wanted us to stay with her while she sleeps. finally last night, she told us that there are monsters and goats (ghosts) in her room, and that she is really, really scared to be in the dark by herself. i personally think it's a little young to be having those issues at the age of not-quite-three. we told her that Jesus is keeping her safe, and that mommy, daddy, and coley wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. she didn't cry, and we thought that was the end of it, but as soon as she woke up again she started talking about monsters and goats. it's kind of weird because her CD player will just randomly play and other things have happened in the house that freak me out just a bit. but i can't think of that kind of stuff or else we'll be looking for a new house and in this recession i don't think that's gonna happen. so tonight, we're going to do devotions with her and pray before she goes to bed, which is something i've wanted to do for a while anyway... and this opportunity presented itsself to kick me in the hiney and get me on the ball. her having a firm belief in the Great Protector and the fact that He loves her and keeps her safe should help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;i'm hoping and praying that this works out and gets resolved soon. do you have any thoughts or suggestions? is she too young to be having these issues or am i just crazy? have your kids had monster or ghost issues? if so, what did you do to make them go away? i'm kind of frustrated and freaked out at the same time. hopefully our monsters and goats will go away. soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3342730338469794442?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3342730338469794442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3342730338469794442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3342730338469794442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3342730338469794442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2010/01/monsters-and-goats-oh-my.html' title='MoNsTeRs AnD GoAtS ~ oH mY!'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3561766565083029838</id><published>2009-12-30T23:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T23:43:08.502-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas... List Style</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;Because I absolutely &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; lists... ok well, it may be more of an obsession, but that doesn't matter... I am going to tell about our Christmas in the form of a *list*. Our Christmas went something like this ~ {and, no, I am not using proper caps in my list... surprised? based on all my previous posts, i didn't think so}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* we had Christmas at our house first, and it was O.K... the munchkin got the most excited about a box. however, she asked for a box, so i guess she had the right to be excited about getting one. the excitement level was rather disappointing, though, for mommy and daddio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* she finally got that Christmas is Jesus' birthday, but she likes to throw in that He was also born in feb. just like her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* she got a horse... no, it wasn't a real horse, but if it was up to my dad, it totally would have been real. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* every time she got clothes, she threw them behind her head kind of like ralphie and randy in the movie A Christmas Story. for being two {ok, she's almost three, but i don't have to admit that yet, because she's &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; three for another &lt;em&gt;two&lt;/em&gt; months} it was pretty funny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* her favorite favorite gift was a "white sing (thing)"... that white sing was, in fact, a white box that housed the clothes she tossed after she opened them... yes, i am serious. the white sing got the biggest reaction. she's nuts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* my husband said (out loud) when he saw a deer on the side of the road while driving that it was a huge giraffe. no, he wasn't drinking. and no, i have no clue what in the heck is wrong with him. yes, he really did this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* i am always so happy to get back to my own bed after sleeping at my parents house. they have a queen size bed, but their mattress is like 90 years old and it kills.my.back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* we have decided that we are keeping the house 100% clean... coming home to a semi-messy house sucked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;* this was the best Christmas so far because our girl had fun, she semi gets the whole reason for Christmas,  she loved the lights, and it was just a pretty rockin time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the end.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;PS ~ you can thank me for &lt;em&gt;finally&lt;/em&gt; doing another post :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3561766565083029838?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3561766565083029838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3561766565083029838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3561766565083029838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3561766565083029838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-list-style.html' title='Christmas... List Style'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6591182076801937760</id><published>2009-12-20T19:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T19:35:28.827-05:00</updated><title type='text'>*Itch*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sy7CbUwU6lI/AAAAAAAAAfE/sfdMUC41K6g/s1600-h/Morgs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417481176456948306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sy7CbUwU6lI/AAAAAAAAAfE/sfdMUC41K6g/s320/Morgs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;I've got the *itch* so badly.... I want to smell another newborn head, snuggle tight with a teeny baby, hear newborn squeaks, and all the glorious things that come with having a newborn. Sigh... the itch is gonna have to wait another couple years&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6591182076801937760?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6591182076801937760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6591182076801937760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6591182076801937760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6591182076801937760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/12/itch.html' title='*Itch*'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sy7CbUwU6lI/AAAAAAAAAfE/sfdMUC41K6g/s72-c/Morgs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4805818282302359065</id><published>2009-12-19T20:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T20:53:46.001-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Power Paint Sprayer When Prunes Attack</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;We went to the peds. last night amidst a nice snow storm because our munchkin had a pretty high fever (101.5... and we found out she has strep). While we were there getting all of that figured out, we also talked to the doc. about some issues with going potty. We've been using Activia, but it still just hadn't been doing the trick, and it was getting to the point that she wasn't going because she knew it would hurt. So, the ped. suggested giving her either a couple prunes, some dates, prune juice, or even baby food prunes. Daddy went to the store today in the blizzard, and got some cherry flavored dates. We told the munch that they were "big raisins" because she wasn't sure about them at first. After she tried them she LOVED them. She had a couple, and then we had to take them off of her because we knew having too much would cause a total explosion. So...... a little while later, she had to hurry and go tinkle, she bent over to pull her pants/panties down, ripped one, and sprayed the wall in the bathroom brown. literally. I guess the prunes worked! :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4805818282302359065?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4805818282302359065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4805818282302359065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4805818282302359065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4805818282302359065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/12/power-paint-sprayer-when-prunes-attack.html' title='&lt;s&gt;Power Paint Sprayer&lt;/s&gt; When Prunes Attack'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6293677089440986240</id><published>2009-12-14T20:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T21:18:16.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>different</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;this is such a joyous time of year~ Jesus' birth and concentrating on Him, family, traditions, the carols, the lights, the trees, the presents, and yes, even Ho Ho....this time also brings thoughts of what the new year will bring, and all of the resolutions that will be made. i always give my "resolutions" a lot of thought, and try to think of some "really good" things to accomplish throughout the new year. my intentions are always there.... in the beginning. i always have the intention to lose weight, to get healthy, to do more housework, to put more of myself in to every roll i play.... Christian, wife, mother, daughter, granddaughter, sister, friend, etc. however, my intentions seem to lose steam pretty quickly, and i end up accomplishing very little of my "i need to" list. this year, i'm doing things a little different. i have one thing i am focusing on. it's not a resolution. it's not a goal. it's a &lt;em&gt;must&lt;/em&gt;, a &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt;, and a &lt;em&gt;desire&lt;/em&gt;. and with this being my only focus, the rest of the other &lt;em&gt;stuff&lt;/em&gt; will fall in to place naturally. this year i am solely concentrating on putting God number one in my life. don't get me wrong, that is always what i want, but i get a little lost along the way sometimes. i get caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily life, my job, my family, my second job, being lazy, our financial situation, trying to get healthy. all of that would fall in to place and be where it needs to be if only i would concentrate on &lt;em&gt;Him&lt;/em&gt;. this year, i am making it my absolute priority to focus on God... to talk to Him more, to love Him more, to seek Him more, to hear Him more, to follow Him more, to feel Him more, to see Him more, and to need Him more. the rest of the stuff is just that... it's stuff (well, besides my family, obviously)... and all that stuff needs to be pushed back, and concentrated on a little less. yes, i do my devotions, i pray, and i tell my girl about her awesome Heavenly Father... but i want more. so there you have it.... my wonderful, amazing, stupendous journey for 2010. a little more God wouldn't hurt any of us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6293677089440986240?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6293677089440986240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6293677089440986240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6293677089440986240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6293677089440986240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/12/different.html' title='different'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5451126378463820033</id><published>2009-12-10T14:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T14:53:37.718-05:00</updated><title type='text'>fish stick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;have i mentioned before that my princess is indeed a &lt;em&gt;princess&lt;/em&gt;? she is so girly and absolutely adores everything that goes with being a girl... sparkly clothes and nails, babydolls, dresses, pretties in her hair, make up... so lately she has a new obsession, and we had a little conversation about it. it went something like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;M- hey, mama, my lips are so.dry. i sink i need to find my fish stick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Me - you need &lt;em&gt;what&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;M - ugh.. mama, my &lt;em&gt;fish stick&lt;/em&gt; i have (dramatic hand motions inserted here) very very very dry lips &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Me- oh! you mean your purple fish stick... didn't you leave it on the couch last night when you went to bed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;M - oh, yes, i sink i did. let me go check, k? yup, i found my purple fish stick. dank you for helping me finda my fish stick. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;- she proceeds to put a layer on, take a lick, put another layer on, take a lick -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;M - hey, mama, i sink you need some fish stick, too. you lips are (dramatic hand motions inserted here, too) very very very very dry. just like mines. yup. we da same. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Me - oh, honey, mommy's lips are fine. i don't think i need any fish stick right now, but thank you so much for asking me if i would like some. it was very kind of you to offer to share with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;M- &lt;em&gt;no&lt;/em&gt;, mama, you &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; some fish stick. i sayed you lips are very very very dry. don't say me no, you need some. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Me - ok, i guess you can give mommy some fish stick, too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;- she proceeds to pile slimy, disgusting fish stick all over my lips and surrounding areas on my face-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;M - dere you go, mama. dat's better. now you no have dry lips any more. you say dank you now to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Me - thank you so much, baby. my lips feel much.better. now that i have fish stick on them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;M - yeah, sure, you welcome. okay, i need more fish stick now. my lips are all dry again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;- she proceeds to pile on a layer, take a lick, pile on a layer, take a lick, pile on a layer, take a &lt;em&gt;nice big bite&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;she's too cute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5451126378463820033?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5451126378463820033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5451126378463820033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5451126378463820033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5451126378463820033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/12/fish-stick.html' title='fish stick'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4265448010117864820</id><published>2009-12-07T18:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T18:34:05.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>good guy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#996633;"&gt;i have been blessed with an absolutely amazing husband. there are so many women in the world that unfortunately cannot say they have a husband who loves them for who and what they are, and who tries his absolute hardest every day to take care of them and do as much as he can for them. my husband puts in 150% effort every day to take care of me, and our little munchkin. he cooks, cleans, does laundry, and watches our munch on the weekends when i work my second job(s). he lets me sleep in each morning and packs my lunch for me, and does little things all the time to show that he loves taking care of his girls. yes, there are bad times (sometimes way more than i like to admit), we fight, get on each other's nerves, and aren't always the nicest we can possibly be to each other. but, at the end of the day, i fall more in love with him and i thank God for blessing me by giving him to me forever. i have a &lt;em&gt;good guy&lt;/em&gt;, and i'm so thankful for him! &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4265448010117864820?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4265448010117864820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4265448010117864820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4265448010117864820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4265448010117864820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/12/good-guy.html' title='good guy'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-9529142319366461</id><published>2009-12-06T20:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T20:22:44.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Say What, Say What?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The munchkin was telling me something on the way to her doctor's appointment yesterday morning. I'll tell you what she said, and you try and guess to see if you can get it right ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Hey, mama, police ma-mi-mad" It took me &lt;em&gt;forever&lt;/em&gt; to figure it out, but I got it eventually.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-9529142319366461?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/9529142319366461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=9529142319366461' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/9529142319366461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/9529142319366461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/12/say-what-say-what.html' title='Say What, Say What?'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8294541715602298067</id><published>2009-12-01T20:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T20:35:08.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Things You Learn {from a DoOdLeBuG}</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;amidst the hectic craziness of my life recently, there are some things i've missed that are going on around our house. thank goodness i have my little doodlebug to fill me in on the happenings my brain has not figured out. tonight i found out ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;* our house has a rainforest. it must be amongst the clutter somewhere; which means i'll probably never find it. but it sounds pretty rad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;* we eat sockies, hankies, shoes, and pants for dinner.... all served up on a cardboard plate. yummy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;* she has now become the boss. not mommy or daddy, the doodlebug is the boss.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;* tissues are for snotty noses and kleenex are for when you use the potty. how stupid of me not to know the difference. for real. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;* she has a big esnorbus spider living in her bedroom. so glad her daddy didn't see the esnorbus spider cuz he would have fainted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;those are some pretty big things i missed. especially the rainforest. i'm ready to see a macaw or monkey swoop down at me at some point. i'll let you know as soon as that happens. :o)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;and, the sockies, shoes, and hankies for dinner will help me get this extra pound-age off really quickly, too. which totally rocks.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8294541715602298067?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8294541715602298067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8294541715602298067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8294541715602298067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8294541715602298067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/12/things-you-learn-from-doodlebug.html' title='The Things You Learn {from a DoOdLeBuG}'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5680947458897938440</id><published>2009-11-30T22:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T17:57:17.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>husband disgusting-ness &lt;3 {love}</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Every man has his own unique way of showing his girlfriend/fiancee/wife that he loves her. Some of his tactics may include sending flowers, writing notes, giving gifts. My husband, however, thinks that a hug followed by &lt;s&gt;"I love you so much, babe"&lt;/s&gt; a massive belch does the trick. Seriously.... where did I find him? Yahoo-chat... that's right. Can I un-chat him to make him go away? Unfortunately, I don't think that will work. Eh, I guess I'll keep him and his disgusting habits around for a little while longer. He does happen to be a pretty great dad, and a mean dish washer. :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5680947458897938440?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5680947458897938440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5680947458897938440' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5680947458897938440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5680947458897938440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/11/husband-disgusting-ness-3-love.html' title='husband &lt;s&gt;disgusting-ness&lt;/s&gt; &lt;3 {love}'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5093181340980339738</id><published>2009-11-30T15:45:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T22:32:23.448-05:00</updated><title type='text'>kicking my butt</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i am feeling so unsettled lately. we have had some big issues within our small family, and they have spilled over to cause issues in our bigger family. trying to find a common understanding between everyone, and get everything taken care of has caused so much stress, frustration, anger, and even some hurt. school has also been so stressful. we're constantly having to explain why our scores aren't as good as they should be on tests, explain, explain &lt;em&gt;explain&lt;/em&gt;, cover our hineys, we are being over-run with meetings during and after school. all of this has just sucked the life out of me, and it is totally &lt;em&gt;kicking my butt&lt;/em&gt;. i just want to mope around, sit in my big brown chair, snuggle up under a blanket, and hide. i'm hoping it all simmers down. i'm not good at handling stress and problems. especially not when it negatively affects myself and my family. this shouldn't be a time of worry and frustration. i want to concentrate on my family, and why this time of year is so special to us. i'm ready to partake in my baby's first Christmas that she actually understands, and teach her about Jesus' birth when we put out our nativity. i'm ready to have her decorate our tree, and snuggle while we watch the pretty lights twinkle. but, the only thing i can do right now to get the situation taken care of is pray and trust. and i'm doing those two things whole-heartedly. join me in praying that God helps us to get this all taken care of in a way we can all say was the right way, and also pray that i will trust in Him to guide us, our actions, and decisions. also pray that our attitudes stay positive because we want to have a Godly attitude and get this taken care of with the utmost respect and be a Godly example.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;* on a positive note, uber cute pics of the kid decorating the tree at my parent's house this weekend will be up tonight! :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5093181340980339738?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5093181340980339738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5093181340980339738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5093181340980339738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5093181340980339738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/11/kick-butt.html' title='kicking my butt'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3357048092526800813</id><published>2009-11-21T19:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T19:33:23.491-05:00</updated><title type='text'>prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;things are steadily crumbling around me. i don't even know where to start or what to do. please say a prayer, or twenty, for me. i'm an emotional, stressed out mess. i just want everything to go away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3357048092526800813?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3357048092526800813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3357048092526800813' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3357048092526800813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3357048092526800813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/11/prayer.html' title='prayer'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6809137077442709163</id><published>2009-11-14T13:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T13:33:39.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ALL I wAnT fOr ChRiStMaS ~</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;my munchkin is totally "besidick" about christmas this year... and "besidick" is a major understatement. she tells us almost daily now that ho ho is bringing her toys and presents. we're trying to put the "let's give to others" and "it's Jesus' birthday" spin on it, too... but that isn't working so well. she's two-and-a-half.. at least she understands something. we have a lot of fun new traditions planned, and it is making me giddy like a kid. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;so the other day, we had a conversation. she started it, and it went something like this ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;M ~ hey, mama, let's talk!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Me ~ ok, honey, what do you want to talk about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;M ~ ho ho is coming to &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; house &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Me ~ yes, baby, ho ho is coming to your house. are you excited?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;M ~ uh huh... i very besidick. ho ho is bringing me presents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Me ~ i know ho ho will bring you presents. do you know what you would like for ho ho to get you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;M ~ yup... i want a horsey, a bear, lots and lots of books, and a box&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Me ~ and that is all you want ho ho to bring you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;M ~ uh huh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Daddy ~ hey, m, since you want ho ho to bring you presents, would you like to go get presents for another little girl? because there are other little girls and boys that don't have everything you do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;M ~ nope! ho ho has to bring &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; presents first&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Me ~ but, honey, ho ho will bring you presents still, &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; we can get something nice for another little girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;M ~ &lt;em&gt;no&lt;/em&gt;, mama, ho ho has to bring &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; presents.... i telled you dat already (exhasperated sigh inserted here)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Me ~ did you know that Christmas is also when baby Jesus was born?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;M ~ nope. Christmas is for ho ho cuz he gives me presents &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Me ~ yes, ho ho does give you presents, but that isn't what Christmas is really about. Christmas is when baby Jesus was born, and Jesus loves us, and He died on the cross for us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;M ~ no, Jesus lives at Papa's church. dat's all.&lt;/span&gt; (another exhasperated sigh here) &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i sink i gonna go play wiss my blocks now. you can play wiss me too, if you want! sure!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;obviously she has one thing on her mind for this Christmas... hopefully when we put the nativity out and get her books "The Real Story of Christmas" from her scholastic book order that opinion may change a little. she knows about Jesus, that He loves her and us, and that He expects her to be nice and respectful to people.... but i guess His birth just doesn't stand a chance over ho ho in her little brain right now.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6809137077442709163?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6809137077442709163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6809137077442709163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6809137077442709163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6809137077442709163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/11/all-i-want-for-christmas.html' title='ALL I wAnT fOr ChRiStMaS ~'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-7790958990993240431</id><published>2009-11-14T13:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T13:09:25.685-05:00</updated><title type='text'>crazy, that's what they sayyy...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sv7xxyHTW5I/AAAAAAAAAe8/zYDtBtnEDzw/s1600-h/desk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404022440459459474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sv7xxyHTW5I/AAAAAAAAAe8/zYDtBtnEDzw/s320/desk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;is this any indication of how &lt;s&gt;wonderful&lt;/s&gt; totally &lt;em&gt;insane&lt;/em&gt; my week has been? my desk is equivalent to the zoo-like children, stressed-out teachers, and just plain insanity.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and it is my bet that the next week and two days won't be any better; because these kids (and teachers) need a break. desperately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-7790958990993240431?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/7790958990993240431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=7790958990993240431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7790958990993240431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7790958990993240431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/11/crazy-thats-what-they-sayyy.html' title='crazy, that&apos;s what they sayyy...'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sv7xxyHTW5I/AAAAAAAAAe8/zYDtBtnEDzw/s72-c/desk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-1576461746414695291</id><published>2009-11-02T21:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T13:36:36.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>don't fit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;does it bother you when you are invited somewhere by a "friend", you walk in to the group meeting/activity you are invited to, and you're totally ignored by every person there that doesn't know you? it bothers me a lot. i was invited to a group meeting of women from around town. they are a community organization that helps local people in many different ways. i've been trying to get more involved lately so i am not just sitting around home all the time. well, now i know why i sit around the house all the time; because i'd rather be with my husband and daughter instead of snotty, i'm-better-than-you women. when i arrived at the meeting tonight, i walked in and nobody said a word to me for 15 minutes. they all just looked at me like i was some sort of freak invading their meeting. not a single "hello, my name is ________. it's nice to meet you". nope. they just let me stand there looking like a stinking idiot all by myself without saying a single word to me. you would think that they would want to give people a more positive point of view about them because of how involved and "concerned" they are for the community members. but, no, they just let me stand there, totally out of place, all by myself. it was fun. and i was invited to their "holiday progressive dinner". &lt;s&gt;sign me up. let me be the first on the list, please. &lt;/s&gt;i think i'll pass, thank you. it's obvious when you don't fit in, and that was pointed out to me really quickly tonight. so, i'll just be staying home with my three loves and enjoying more family time. at least i know i am loved and wanted here :o) and in the end, that is all that matters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-1576461746414695291?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/1576461746414695291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=1576461746414695291' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1576461746414695291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1576461746414695291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/11/dont-fit.html' title='don&apos;t fit'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3478261138346869844</id><published>2009-11-02T21:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T21:38:21.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a.ti.tude.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;little miss &lt;em&gt;thang &lt;/em&gt;has been getting her attitude on lately. where she gets some of the words that fly out of her little two-year-old mouth really gets me. because she doesn't hear it at home. it is funny to see her facial expressions while rolling her eyes like an adult and heaving a huge sigh of frustration, but it's getting old. rather quickly, i might add. her new favorite thing is to fold her hands across her chest and say in a mightily ticked-off voice, "i so &lt;em&gt;mad&lt;/em&gt; at chew right now. don't even talk 'a me cuz i mad at chew". she told me today that if i didn't "stop looking at her &lt;em&gt;like that&lt;/em&gt;" (like what, i don't have a clue, but like that) then she would have to smack me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;this past weekend my in-laws were here from PA. my step-father-in-law picks on the kid like there's no tomorrow. i have to admit, there are times when i want to look at him and tell him to please just &lt;em&gt;shut up&lt;/em&gt;. but, i refrain. the princess had other plans besides refraining from telling her pap off, though. when we were walking back from trunk-or-treating, he was picking on her something fierce. don't you know, that little stinker stops, rolls her eyes, puts her hands on her hips, and exasperated-ly says, "James, (her pap's name) i really wish you would stop talkin 'a me like dat. it is not nice, so stop it now, misser". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;while for some if it, i don't blame her, it still bothers me that my cute little princess has had such a nasty, mean spirited attitude lately. needless to say, her tiny, cute, little booty has worn a spot in the carpet where she's been sitting in time out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3478261138346869844?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3478261138346869844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3478261138346869844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3478261138346869844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3478261138346869844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/11/atitude.html' title='a.ti.tude.'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6661080122131578385</id><published>2009-11-01T17:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T17:49:37.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>love, opinions, and thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;love~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;so you know that i am getting myself on the right path to lose weight. i found a couple things that i love to help me in this endeavor. those things would be:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;*www.settingcaptivesfree.com. a christian website that focuses on making God your priority to get your life straight in many areas. even losing weight. awesome. *thanks erica!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;*www.nutritiondata.com. you can go on there and enter any food imaginable and the serving size and it'll give you all the nutrition info. you need on that food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;*calorie king book. good stuff. it just backs up nutrition data.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;opinions~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;i am trying to decide on whether to follow weight watchers online or just strictly count calories. what do you think is the best route to go?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;are there any other excercises you can suggest besides walking on a treadmill to get this weight off? i tried the ellipticals at the YMCA and i hate them. with a passion. i need to do something to mix it up, and am too embarassed right now to go to an aerobics class or something like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;thoughts~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;i'm on a good track. i hope i stay there. i can do it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6661080122131578385?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6661080122131578385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6661080122131578385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6661080122131578385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6661080122131578385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-opinions-and-thoughts.html' title='love, opinions, and thoughts'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3957016368115609219</id><published>2009-10-24T17:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T17:27:39.614-04:00</updated><title type='text'>provide</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;my husband and i are very richly blessed. we are blessed beyond comprehension. when we first got married, we had a grand time going out and &lt;s&gt;spending money&lt;/s&gt; racking up our credit cards buying stuff we didn't need, going out to dinner, and all kinds of other nonsense. then when we bought our house, we "needed" to buy things for the house to make it ours, and spent even more money we didn't have. it took a couple of years, but we got slammed. really hard, too. we are still paying for our stupid mistakes, and have learned a huge lesson. along with our stupid-ness, my husband and daughter haven't been the healthiest people, either. AT has had ER visit after ER visit, kidney stone surgery after kidney stone surgery, and other doctor's visits dealing with the like. our munchkin has had ear infection, ear infection, ear infection, hospital stay, ER visit, ER visit, ER visit, bronchitis, asthma, tubes, fever after fever, you get the drift. i got braces put on, and have had some other issues dealing with the medical side of things, too. so, all of this combined led to us being seriously, dangerously in debt. we didn't realize how many medical bills we had and how much money we owed everyone until the bills started flowing in. and we couldn't pay them because of our credit card debt. so we broke down, did credit counseling, and our cards will be taken care of in the next 2 1/2 years. now we are working on getting all of the medical bills paid off. so many of them have been sent to collections it's not even funny (stace, i know you feel me on the medical side.... in a more major way than we have dealt with, too). then our bathroom decided to grow mold and mildew, and we need that redone because it can't be safe for any of us.... especially our little princess who has severe allergies (we've been bleaching down the mold, so it has been staying away, but the mildew is still there). did i mention that our roof blew off in last february, our heat pump quit working two years ago and we needed  a new one, and our one dog who we no longer have destroyed the carpet and most of the doors in the house... so we had to have new carpet put in, too? a little overwhelming, huh? it seems like we have been hit. hard. really really hard. when i think about it all, i get choked up because it seems like one bad thing after another happens. we were going to use our income tax check last year to get the bathroom done. then we ended up having to spend almost half of that to get the sewer lines cleaned out because they were spewing raw sewage in to our yard this past summer. now we have to wait until this IRS check to get the bathroom done. we also need a new fridge because ours is as old as the hills and it leaks some kind of light green goo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc9933;"&gt;amidst all of this &lt;em&gt;crap&lt;/em&gt;, we have never failed to see how God's hand &lt;strong&gt;provides&lt;/strong&gt; for His children. my husband's mom and step dad have given us a lot of money (new heat pump, money for the kid, dance class for the kid). and, my parents have been helping us in a major way, too. they are helping send our precious girl to her new school because they knew how badly we wanted to get her out of her last babysitters. they also just called today and said that our christmas and birthday presents would consist of a &lt;em&gt;new fridge&lt;/em&gt;.  i am excited beyond belief. and so &lt;em&gt;thankful&lt;/em&gt;. God has also &lt;strong&gt;provided&lt;/strong&gt; me with two extra jobs to help make ends meet, and my husband also got put on a team this year that will make him $200 extra/month. we are trying our to get ourselves out of our hole.... and it's slowly happening. and we are slowly seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. but, in our most desperate, frustrating times, we have never failed to see His hand.... guiding, protecting, and &lt;strong&gt;providing&lt;/strong&gt; for us. He is &lt;em&gt;amazing&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3957016368115609219?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3957016368115609219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3957016368115609219' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3957016368115609219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3957016368115609219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/10/provide.html' title='provide'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-10900127078182084</id><published>2009-10-23T22:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T22:08:39.636-04:00</updated><title type='text'>you know.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;..... you're the mother of a toddler when you receive an email with the subject being "&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;diaper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;em&gt; poop&lt;/em&gt;, and &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;rashes&lt;/span&gt;". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;and i wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-10900127078182084?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/10900127078182084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=10900127078182084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/10900127078182084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/10900127078182084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-know.html' title='you know.....'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6780550336755564751</id><published>2009-10-18T14:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T14:52:19.532-04:00</updated><title type='text'>home.sick.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;it was a hard weekend. my parents and brother came down from PA on thursday for a visit. they left today. i'm very, very close with my mom, and we like to do a lot of things together. every once in a while when they come here and leave, or we go there and leave, i get extremely emotional. it is so stinking hard having them so far away. a 5-6 hour drive doesn't seem like it would be so bad, it is hard to do it on a regular weekend. we usually even end up getting up to PA almost every single month, but it doesn't seem like enough. i also really love, love, love the town where my parents live, and would love ot live there. i have some other circumstances here that make the distance even more difficult. the circumstances down here that make me even more homesick are the fact that i can't find a church to really settle in to, i can't really stand any of the girls that i work with because they all stab people in the back so badly, i am not too fond of the town and how it is set up and that is is SO FAR away from everything,  and i don't have any real friends down here. soo.... now it is obvious as to why i really struggle with living here, and with my parents being so far away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;when we moved down here, it was basically an agreement between us that we were not planning on staying here for the rest of our lives. however, we haven't had the money to move, and we made some silly decisions by moving out of our apartment and in to a crazy woman's house, which in turn encouraged us to buy a house. so now we are basically stuck until we can sell our house. so i am hoping that we will eventually get to move closer to our families. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;one thing that really encouraged me today was talking to one of my friends, becky, from college. she knows that i am having a rough time, and gave me a new, amazing perspective of our situation. she told me that God really knows my heart, and knows that i will not be happy living this far away from our families for the rest of my life. she also agrees that given my circumstances that i mentioned above that it would basically be impossible to be happy and content living here. she also said that maybe it is God's purpose to not let me get too attached to anyone or anything down here because when we do move, then it won't be difficult for me to pick our things up and just go. which is soooo true. it won't affect me in the least to pick up, and get the heck out of here. i could find out tomorrow that we are moving, and i wouldn't shed a tear. this point of view has really comforted me, and has really made me think about our situation. i can see that as being a totally legit explanation because i have never been totally 100% truly happy here. i'm the type of person that needs my family around, and needs to be around people that love and care for me. that isn't the situation here, and it's very trying. so now i have a new focus, and i am trusting the Lord to lead us in the direction He wants us to go in within the next couple of years. the possibilities are exciting, and it will be fun to see what road He decides to lead us down. keeping a positive attitude during the holidays is going to be hard because that is my most favorite time to be where my parents live, but i know something better is in store for us down the road. i just have to be patient, and trust Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6780550336755564751?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6780550336755564751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6780550336755564751' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6780550336755564751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6780550336755564751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/10/homesick.html' title='home.sick.'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-400219040052284744</id><published>2009-10-08T11:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T11:47:05.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Our Father....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Who Art in Heaven &lt;em&gt;Howard&lt;/em&gt; be Thy Name"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;This is how one of my children said the Lord's Prayer today... and I had to really work hard to hold back my chuckle. Like, &lt;em&gt;hard hard hard&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-400219040052284744?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/400219040052284744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=400219040052284744' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/400219040052284744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/400219040052284744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/10/our-father.html' title='&quot;Our Father....'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-1247949730837360415</id><published>2009-10-06T17:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T17:38:48.392-04:00</updated><title type='text'>dabble-r</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;i am a dabble-r. i am very good at sticking the tips-of-my-toes in, but not fully immersing myself. this goes for about every single aspect of my life. i am a dabble-r in my marriage. i'm too selfish to completely give my whole self to my husband. i have an agenda, too, ya know. i have needs and wants and desires, too. not just him. i do too, darnit. so why totally give him my whole self when i need to take care of me, too? he hasn't given his whole self to fully take care of me, so i have to look out for myself in some way. right? i also dabble in my health situation. i so &lt;em&gt;badly&lt;/em&gt; want to lose weight (i sound like a flipping broken record.. i think that is the &lt;em&gt;gazillionth and one&lt;/em&gt; time i've said that in the last 5 years and it still hasn't happened), and be totally happy again. i don't want my daughter to have the self-image issues that i do, and don't want her to struggle the way i have. i get going really good with working out, drinking water, eating fruits and veggies, taking vitamins, and being really conscious about what goes in my mouth and how well i do in all areas regarding getting healthy. i lose a few pounds, feel super great, and then the dabbling rears its nasty head. i've skimmed enough, i've lost some weight, now it's time to hog-out and gain it all back. healthy, huh? yeah pretty much NOT. then i self-loathe and get all depressed because my dabbling didn't do me any good. why can't i just commit, get started, stay focused, and get this done? cuz i'm a dabble-r, that's why. it would take guts and courage to actually stay motivated, hit the gym every-single-day, not eat anything unhealthy, and attain my goals. being a mother is also where i dabble. not as much as everywhere else, but there are days when i say "ah, heck, i've dealt with the temper tantrums, poopy pants, screaming, crying, and everything-else-that-is-connected-with-being-the-mom-of-a-two-year-old... let her dad take care of her today". see... more dabbling. more often than not, though, my mommy role is a role that sees the least amount of dabbling. i take my job of raising my girl seriously. but i still dabble. my christian walk is another area that i dabble in, too. i get going with devotions, pray many times throughout the day, see changes that God is making in my life. yup, you guessed it. then it stops. why would i want to get too engrossed in all of that religious stuff, and actually feel great about my walk with my Father? why would i want to continue to receive his everlasting love and help in my marriage, my health issues, and my role as a mommy? my dabbling lifestyle comes back in to play, and the devotions stop, i pray when i go to bed, and everything else crumbles in to a pile around me. the fighting with my husband ensues, the weight comes back on and i can't stand myself for the millionth time in the last six months, and i feel like my daughter isn't as close to me as she is to her daddy. when will i ever learn to stop dabbling, stop skimming the surface, stop giving just part of myself, stop being so scared and so uncommitted? when will i fully immerse myself in every aspect, and just let God take over? that would answer all of my problems. when i don't dabble my marriage is usually great, i am successful with my health goals, and my girl and i get tons of snuggle-love time. but, when the dabble-r comes out again.... all the good stuff goes away, and i'm left asking myself "why did you do this to yourself &lt;em&gt;again&lt;/em&gt;?!?!?" i'm ready to be a non-dabbler. but i just &lt;em&gt;don't know how to not be one&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-1247949730837360415?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/1247949730837360415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=1247949730837360415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1247949730837360415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1247949730837360415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/10/dabble-r.html' title='dabble-r'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-2548266080975380078</id><published>2009-09-26T14:04:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T18:17:10.938-04:00</updated><title type='text'>score</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sr6SsgIYTGI/AAAAAAAAAeM/v6Fn7FcWswU/s1600-h/bookshelf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385903497618672738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sr6SsgIYTGI/AAAAAAAAAeM/v6Fn7FcWswU/s320/bookshelf.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;i am &lt;em&gt;so excited&lt;/em&gt;. i have been looking for a bookshelf for my munchkin's room for such a long time. her daddy wanted to build her one, but mommy vetoed that idea (if you would have ever experienced him putting something together that had all the pieces cut so he just had to add nails/screws and witnessing that catastrophe, you would have totally vetoed the whole building from-scratch thing, too. trust me). i wanted something pretty and nice, and that would also fit the ten million books the child has. she also has little collectible things that i have wanted to sit out, too. everywhere seemed so expensive, and a small hand-made shelf would have been $60. and the pre-fab things are kinda cruddy. i went to this cute little crafty/antique store today, and scored. big.time. i found two bookshelves, and they are pretty. the shelves are big enough for her books, her little collectible things will look really nice on them, and there are doors at the bottom with shelves underneath for storage (and her shoes). they didn't have a price on them, so i asked the lady if they were for sale. at first, she said they weren't, but they were actually her own and she was thinking of selling them. i asked the price, and waited with baited breath while she was deciding&lt;/span&gt; how much she would charge me for one/both of them. when she told me the price, my jaw hit the floor. she told me they would be $70 a piece. two gorgeous bookshelves for $140 is not bad at all. i'm already contemplating and planning how i'm going to decorate them, and where her little knick knacks will be placed. i'll also put a pic up of them as soon as i get home. yay!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-2548266080975380078?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/2548266080975380078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=2548266080975380078' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2548266080975380078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2548266080975380078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/09/score.html' title='score'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sr6SsgIYTGI/AAAAAAAAAeM/v6Fn7FcWswU/s72-c/bookshelf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8729326018738812789</id><published>2009-09-20T10:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T11:00:26.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Morning, Knuckle Head!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;my big love and little love were teasing each other this morning. their conversation went something like this ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;a ~ "good morning, knuckle head. how are you?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;m ~ "i not a knuckle head, i'm a big girl"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;a ~ "nope, you're a knuckle head"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;m ~"daddy, i not a knuckle head. you no call me dat name. it's not nice. you no call names. it is a no no. you will go to time out, misser"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;a ~ "i still think you're a knuckle head"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;m ~ "daddy, you get a spanking. you no call names"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;so, she proceeded to give him a spanking, and told him to go sit in time out because he was not being a very nice boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8729326018738812789?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8729326018738812789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8729326018738812789' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8729326018738812789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8729326018738812789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/09/good-morning-knuckle-head.html' title='Good Morning, Knuckle Head!'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4707742693381090692</id><published>2009-09-15T14:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T14:42:47.136-04:00</updated><title type='text'>LiTtLe SwEeT tHaNg &lt;3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;my princess has had to come in to the bathroom while i am in the shower the last two mornings to give me a kiss, say good morning, and tell me she "wuvs" me.... how sweet. i love that kid more and more each day it's unbelievable. she rocks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;she does other sweet stuff every day, too. she loves to give hugs, kisses, snuggles, and "i wuv you"'s out like they're going out of style... melt. my. heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4707742693381090692?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4707742693381090692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4707742693381090692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4707742693381090692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4707742693381090692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-sweet-thang-3.html' title='LiTtLe SwEeT tHaNg &lt;3'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-9220650070258815816</id><published>2009-09-14T16:09:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T16:20:44.997-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Itchy B@*$*!y 'Pider</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;my last post talked about what silly things come out of my munchkin's mouth. i love hearing her talk because she has such a cute, little munchkin voice, and she says things that are sooo funny. well... i was in the computer room the other day &lt;s&gt;being a bad mom on facebook instead of tending to my child&lt;/s&gt; (i don't have to admit that, right?), and she was walking around the house singing. she &lt;em&gt;loves&lt;/em&gt; to sing, which that is even an understatement. she will even sing what she is having for dinner. so, back to the other day walking around the house... she's singing, and all of a sudden my husband comes to the door and goes, "stop what you're doing and listen to her... just be really quiet and hear what she is saying". so i quit what i was doing, perked my ears up really well, and listened. the next thing i hear out of her mouth is "da itchy bitchy 'pider goed up da wawer 'pout... down camed da rain and wassed a 'pider out... out camed da sun and dried up aww da rain and da itchy bitchy 'pider goed up da pout again.... yaaaayyy!" so i know it looks like she hears swearing at home. she doesn't... i promise. usually she sings it the "issy bissy 'pider", but i guess it was itchy and bitchy the other day. any way, it was hysterical and i think we both laughed until we cried. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;another thing she says that makes it sound like we swear around her is she calls ice cream "ass cream".... we live in VA, and the kiddo is picking up on some of the southern accent. i'm trying to get her to not do that, but when she looks at you and says, "can i have some ass cream palease?" it makes you want to dig out the preparation h and say "here's the ass cream, honey, have fun". my dad has told her that he didn't have any at home, but when he got some at the store, he'd share with her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i swear i love love love love love love love love lover her.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-9220650070258815816?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/9220650070258815816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=9220650070258815816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/9220650070258815816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/9220650070258815816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/09/itchy-by-pider.html' title='The Itchy B@*$*!y &apos;Pider'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3296603527703136963</id><published>2009-09-09T17:22:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T15:31:09.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two-Year-Old-Blurbs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;my child says things on a daily basis that crack me up and make me smile. here are two she said today that made both myself and my husband laugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;she told us she had to poop on the potty.... after she got the job done she looks in the toilet and goes&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;"oh, that poop is AMAZING!"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;ok, kid... i didn't know that, but at least you're excited aboug going on the potty!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;a little while later she was helping her daddy look for turkey burger in the freezer to make some spaghetti. her dad said that he couldn't find the turkey burger so she goes&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;"i sink (think) the turkey burger is flying way hup in the sky"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;did you know that turkey burger flies way hup in the sky? yeah, neither did i.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3296603527703136963?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3296603527703136963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3296603527703136963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3296603527703136963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3296603527703136963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/09/two-year-old-blurbs.html' title='Two-Year-Old-Blurbs'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-1041012296512961604</id><published>2009-09-07T23:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T23:07:50.665-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Mommy List Style</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;this past weekend we went to pennsylvania to visit both of our families. my mom and i also went shopping for clothes and shoes for my munchkin. i LOVE to shop there because my parents have outlets near them (can you say carters, childrens place, and gymboree stuff for CHEAP?!), and there's no sales tax. woo hoo. but, over the course of our shopping excursion, i went from being an excited, happy mommy to a sad, depressed mommy. here is why that progression went the way it did:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;*my baby's foot grew a &lt;em&gt;size and a half &lt;/em&gt;in a matter of 4 months... she started out the summer in a 6 1/2 and we bought a size 8 saturday! yikes!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;* i'm no longer able to shop for clothes with the word months after the number size, it now has to be a T after the number size. boo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;* the toddler section of carters doesn't have an entire matching outfit on one hanger. you have to buy individual pieces then match them together. on the little kid side, a cute shirt and pants or leggings that match come on one hanger. plus, the younger kids outfits are so.much.cuter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;* unfortunately, it really hit me that my baby isn't so much a baby anymore... she's progressing in to a little girl right before my eyes. i want it to stop, but i can't make that happen... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;* all in all this weekend basically made me want to bawl my eyes out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-1041012296512961604?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/1041012296512961604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=1041012296512961604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1041012296512961604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1041012296512961604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/09/sad-mommy-list-style.html' title='Sad Mommy List Style'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-7944722509694693802</id><published>2009-09-03T14:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T14:34:21.932-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Buckwheat Otay Pillow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SqAHn9fAbFI/AAAAAAAAAeE/6v_me0194JQ/s1600-h/pillow.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377306338181278802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SqAHn9fAbFI/AAAAAAAAAeE/6v_me0194JQ/s320/pillow.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;have been having problems with my shoulders and neck for a while because of how I sleep. I've tried numerous pillows, and none of them seem to relieve the pain that I feel from sleeping incorrectly. I also toss and turn all night long, which leaves me exhausted in the morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;My wonderful husband told me to try a buckwheat pillow. I went online, and about passed out at the prices of them. But, I did some research and saw that they were supposed to be wonderful. I got one, and it came yesterday. It sounds weird, but I can already tell a difference. My shoulders don't hurt as much, and I didn't toss and turn all night long. I think I rolled over like 3 times. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SqAHniC08uI/AAAAAAAAAd8/BiZa7bMtxk0/s1600-h/hulls.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377306330815328994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 144px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 102px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SqAHniC08uI/AAAAAAAAAd8/BiZa7bMtxk0/s320/hulls.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;My pillow is filled with these little hulls from the buckwheat flower. The smell of them alone is wonderful! They conform to your neck, head, and shoulders, and give you such good support! Everything from the hulls to the muslin pillowcase is 100% organic. The pillow is also supposed to last 10 years!! You can add and remove the hulls (you just store them in a ziploc back until you want to add more to your pillow) to fit your comfort level. I took out 2 gallon ziploc bags, and it worked well. I may end up taking out another one, but I'll have to wait and see. Another plus is that it's like a natural insulator, which means in the summer it keeps you cool and in the winter it keeps you warm. Supposedly air circulates around the little hulls which prevents them from compacting together like fiber filled pilllows. It's seriously totally different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SqAHnQH1oyI/AAAAAAAAAd0/VkMJ3heiCuU/s1600-h/sachet.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377306326004507426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SqAHnQH1oyI/AAAAAAAAAd0/VkMJ3heiCuU/s320/sachet.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;And, to top it off, I got a free lavender sachet to put in my pillow. I woke up smelling like lavender, and it was divine. The store I got mine from also has chamomile, but I found one at another store that has mint and other herbs that help your nasal passages open up when you have a cold; so I think I'll eventually get some of them, too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-7944722509694693802?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/7944722509694693802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=7944722509694693802' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7944722509694693802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7944722509694693802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/09/buckwheat-otay-pillow.html' title='Buckwheat &lt;s&gt;Otay&lt;/s&gt; Pillow'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SqAHn9fAbFI/AAAAAAAAAeE/6v_me0194JQ/s72-c/pillow.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5459393058248762668</id><published>2009-09-01T14:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T14:31:53.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Wait</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sp1mq3gdrUI/AAAAAAAAAds/VpQAhV1KUnw/s1600-h/fall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376566416790891842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 207px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sp1mq3gdrUI/AAAAAAAAAds/VpQAhV1KUnw/s320/fall.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;Last night was the first time in a while that we got to sleep with our AC off, windows wide open, and the fans going. It was freezing in our bedroom, and it was GLORIOUS! Oh, I love and cherish this time of year! This fall I am excited because our little one is finally old enough to understand about things that happen outside (she'll love the changing of the leaves, and will giggle with delight over the big harvest moon b/c we already have to go outside each night before she goes down for bed to see if the moon is a circle or a crescent; so the huge harvest moon will totally make her day), she will &lt;em&gt;flip&lt;/em&gt; when we go on a hayride and choose a pumpkin to carve and visit the petting zoo, and will love going trick-or-treating. Seriously.. this is the best season EVER. I could have it be fall all year and would never get sick of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;"&gt;Break out the coats, long sleeved shirts, pants, cinnamon scented everything, throws to keep warm, fall decorations, fall colors, cool, crisp air, apple cider, pumpkins, witches, goblins, and ghosts, huge moons... oohhhh I cannot wait!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5459393058248762668?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5459393058248762668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5459393058248762668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5459393058248762668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5459393058248762668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/09/cant-wait.html' title='Can&apos;t Wait'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sp1mq3gdrUI/AAAAAAAAAds/VpQAhV1KUnw/s72-c/fall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8477691312011829836</id><published>2009-09-01T14:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T14:21:27.365-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Responsibility</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;when the other two classes i am teaching this year came in without their homework, i heard every excuse in the book. then i got the question, "well, if we do our homework at lunch, can't we just skip owing you recess and go outside to play?" my answer: no way. what did they do? they went to their homeroom teacher, said that they didn't do their homework and asked her if they could do it at lunch then go to recess. her answer: yes. ughhh! then i got to play the bad guy and make them stay in for recess after she vetoed me. i think they need to learn responsibility, and that they cannot get off scott-free when they don't do their homework. in my opinion that is unacceptable, and it is only teaching them bad habits. i did the right thing, right? back me up here!! :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8477691312011829836?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8477691312011829836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8477691312011829836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8477691312011829836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8477691312011829836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/09/responsibility.html' title='Responsibility'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-1879340545318891961</id><published>2009-08-31T15:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T15:57:58.238-04:00</updated><title type='text'>note</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;i will start off by admitting that i am a very, very spoiled person. my husband cooks, cleans, does dishes, does the bathrooms because i think it is totally gross. another thing he does every single morning is pack my lunch because he knows how much i adore my bed, and sacrifices so i can sleep in a little longer (amazing, i know). i've been very blessed with a good husband and daddy to our girl. i've also been blessed because my husband does little things to try and make me feel and know how much he loves me. it's these simple little things that mean so much. i don't need expensive gifts to know how much he loves me. so today i find this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;"have a great day. i love you so much. i will miss you today and think about you all day long. you are an amazing wife and mommy and i can't think of anyone i'd rather be with forever. i love you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;that note was in my lunchbox, and it completely &lt;em&gt;melted&lt;/em&gt; my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-1879340545318891961?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/1879340545318891961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=1879340545318891961' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1879340545318891961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/1879340545318891961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/note.html' title='note'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6253201071086874116</id><published>2009-08-27T16:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T23:08:18.522-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Substandard</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;it's funny how toddlers grow, learn, and progress. i love watching my little one learn new things, and see the lightbulb go off in her little head when she gets something. i received an email today from babycenter.com telling me that my 30 month old should be able put her own shirt on, draw a circle, and draw a vertical line. it also said that she should know one color, recognize one friend, pay attention to one word directions, and be saying two to three word sentences. it cracks me up because the first part makes me feel like a bad parent. she can't put her own shirt on. she scribbles, but only once has it ever resembled a circle (but she did tell me it was a circle), and she definitely doesn't draw a vertical line (well, she doesn't know what a "line" is). on the other hand she knows all of her colors, all of her shapes, recognizes all of the letters in her name and about half of the alphabet (it said she should know her &lt;em&gt;whole&lt;/em&gt; alphabet... bad parenting coming in to play once again), and she's starting to recognize most of the numbers, too. she knows most of her friends at her new school, and knew every single kid by name at her old babysitter's house. saying three to four word sentences? she was doing that when she was a little over one year old.... my munchkin says 8-12 word sentences half of the time. but, it just drives me crazy because it's like they have this perception that a child should be at a certain stage by a certain age or they aren't "good" enough or "smart" enough. why can't it be that they learn things in their own time.... and if they get to kindergarten and there are some major holes, then maybe be concerned. but she's two-and-a-half for cryin out loud. i think she knows a lot for being that young.... and the "experts" make me feel like i am a substandard parent because my child doesn't know everything they say she should... ugh. vent over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6253201071086874116?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6253201071086874116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6253201071086874116' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6253201071086874116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6253201071086874116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/substandard.html' title='Substandard'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-5153070879627957575</id><published>2009-08-26T14:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T14:32:03.584-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Did I Get that Memo?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;Organization is not my thing. at.all. I think I am one of the most disorganized, disheveled human beings I've ever met. I misplace papers, miss meetings because I lose the memo telling me the date the meeting is taking place, lose clothes, have a cluttered, unkempt house, do everything last minute in a hurried frenzy. But, that is who I am, and although it's frustrating on many days, I've come to accept my fault and have tried to find ways to work around it. Notice I said work around it... not fix it, not get rid of it, just work around it. I don't think there is any getting rid of or fixing to be had. I just have to figure out ways to side-step some of my disorganization to help me move a little more swiftly through my life. If you look at my house, it looks like an unorganized, cluttered person lives there.... and they do. And we have a double whammy because my husband is the exact same way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;One of the side-steps I've been doing is to get myself ready for school a week in advance *gasp*! Lesson plans being done for the next week the week before, and not the morning the new week beings?! That has literally never happened in my six years of teaching. Not even once. I have noticed that it helps to have at least something done and prepared because everything else is so unfunctional it's not even funny. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;My husband and I are trying to work on our insanely unorganized life.... when you wake up in the morning, and can't find anything to wear until the second before you must walk out the door, it pretty much means that you need to find more side-steps to take to get yourself more together. Overflowing dishes, overflowing laundry, lost bills, lost shoes, lost silverware, &lt;s&gt;a lost toddler&lt;/s&gt;.... it's all a part of our normal lives. We aren't dirty, we're just extremely, overly unorganized. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;As I sit here and type this, I realize that I have missed another memo about a meeting that is taking place.... ok, I lied.... but it will happen this year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-5153070879627957575?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/5153070879627957575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=5153070879627957575' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5153070879627957575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/5153070879627957575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/did-i-get-that-memo.html' title='Did I Get that Memo?'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8767816328429132732</id><published>2009-08-25T19:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T22:01:46.647-04:00</updated><title type='text'>happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;isn't it a totally wonderful feeling when &lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;your heart is totally, blissfully&lt;/span&gt; happy? i have a great life.... i have a great husband, a beautful, intelligent, hilarious daughter, a cuddly, soft, fluffy dog, and so much love radiates from them every single day. with the exception of a couple minor things dealing with myself and money (with this economy, who isn't feeling a crunch?) things are amazing.... and i'm enjoying waking up every morning and going to bed every night with a heart full of love, laughter, and happiness. &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8767816328429132732?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8767816328429132732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8767816328429132732' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8767816328429132732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8767816328429132732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy.html' title='happy'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4934295427274799678</id><published>2009-08-24T15:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T15:44:53.359-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Crack and Sniff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;we were sitting in the hallway... well, the kids were, i was standing... waiting &lt;s&gt;patiently&lt;/s&gt; like a room full of banshees for the second wave of buses to pull up so the banditos could be on their way home. as they were sitting there, this one &lt;s&gt;different&lt;/s&gt; extremely odd child was putting his finger through the crack of his shoe then sniffing it to see if his feet smelled.... quite gross, if you ask me. he did it a few times, and i was really crossing my fingers that he didn't think of another crack to put his finger down to then pull out and take a nice-big-whiff. thank goodness the bell rang cuz with his quriky-weirdness i'm pretty sure the light would have gone off in his little head, and those fingers would have made a pretty disgusting trip down south. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4934295427274799678?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4934295427274799678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4934295427274799678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4934295427274799678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4934295427274799678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/crack-and-sniff.html' title='Crack and Sniff'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3309870793514725133</id><published>2009-08-24T14:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T17:31:38.164-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let It Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#999900;"&gt;i've realized a lot in the last couple of days. i realized that i need to concentrate on what's happening in my life now, and what's going to happen in my future. things that happened in my past are out of my control, they happened for a reason, and i've got to &lt;em&gt;let it go. &lt;/em&gt;dwelling on the past is getting me nowhere. having my mind filled with the &lt;em&gt;what if's&lt;/em&gt; won't help me to progress in any way. i need to concentrate on all of the blessings i've been given, and rejoice in the Lord for the many wonderful ways He has provided for me. i have an &lt;em&gt;amazing&lt;/em&gt; husband, a &lt;em&gt;gorgeous&lt;/em&gt; little girl, a cute little doggy, and a not-too-shabby family (well, i guess they're above par, actually). i have a roof over my head, and a good job. i need to concentrate on these things because i've been blessed with them for a reason.... not on things that could have been because they never evolved, so why should they matter?.... i've just got to &lt;em&gt;let it go&lt;/em&gt;. and i'm okay with that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3309870793514725133?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3309870793514725133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3309870793514725133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3309870793514725133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3309870793514725133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/let-it-go.html' title='Let It Go'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3859142044714023593</id><published>2009-08-23T14:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T17:32:12.613-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I will</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#999900;"&gt;run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer run a 5k next summer. don't believe me? watch me prove.you.&lt;em&gt;wrong&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3859142044714023593?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3859142044714023593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3859142044714023593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3859142044714023593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3859142044714023593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-will.html' title='I will'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4141876712384123922</id><published>2009-08-14T08:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T08:51:53.058-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready or Not</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#339999;"&gt;my last two posts have expressed my feelings about the upcoming school year, and all of the changes that have been made that threw me for a loop. what i want to do is to ask you (all like 5 of you, ha) for prayer. i'm extremely nervous about teaching special education. i know i can do it, but i have had no training (and i'm supposed to), and i am a nervous wreck. it's not because of the kids, it's because i feel like i am doing a disservice to them because i haven't been properly trained. they deserve a fully equipped teacher who has been trained on how to meet their individual needs. i'm going to try my butt off to do what i can do for them, and to make sure they learn as much as they can from me this year. i just wish i could go in to this situation with more confidence, and with a feeling of being ready to provide these kids with everything they need this year. and right now, that is not how i feel at all.... so, ready or not, here it comes full throttle, and i'm just along for the ride. i guess we'll see what direction this takes in the next couple of months!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4141876712384123922?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4141876712384123922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4141876712384123922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4141876712384123922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4141876712384123922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/ready-or-not.html' title='Ready or Not'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3041354714215826691</id><published>2009-08-13T08:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T08:52:10.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>randomness shmandomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;i so love the smell of good coffee in the morning. i could smell it all day long. we are asking for a keurig coffee maker for christmas this year because we're tired of giving mcdonalds and starbucks all of our money for coffee. i could just sit here at my desk all day long and smell my coffee. it would be like yesterday, and i'd get no work done. but it would be worth it to me. maybe not really. but the thought is nice. just a nice little totally random thought to throw in there that got my mind off of its racing for a mili-second. :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;have you ever been at the point with something that you just don't really know what to do? i'm having major brain block, and it's driving me nuts. i was all ready to teach math, and then i found out (through the mail, no less) that i'm not teaching math this year. i was totally geared up and ready to go. then *poof* it was gone just like that. i've taught reading before, so i don't know why i'm having such a huge brain block right now as far as what i am doing with my room and how i am going to teach, but it still seems so different. i'm also freaking out about having to teach two extra classes, and not having my own kids all day long. if you can't tell, i'm not a person who is big on change. once i find a groove that works for me, i like it to stay that way. messing with that groove really knocks me for a loop. i get side-swiped and discombobulated (is that how you spell the word... my husband uses it, and it was appropriate here, but i don't know how to spell it; or if it's even a real word) then have a total freak out, melt down. that part hasn't come yet... i'm in the "where do i go from here" stage right now. hopefully the freak out won't come. my guess is that it will because it always seems to follow when my mind races like this. i also can't seem to put a finger on my exact feeling, either. i don't know if i'm frustrated, mad, worried, exhasperated.... mostly a combination of everything really, but i don't know what feeling is prevalent among the others. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;ok i need to get my mind off of this before i do go totally insane. i'll get a cute little thought out about my munchkin before i have to go to my morning meeting.... last night i was working with my girl on recognizing her numbers. especially since she'll be working on that at her new school this year. we were sitting, playing, laughing, and having a good time while using her new number puzzle to count and recognize the numbers. she caught on pretty quick, and recognized 5 of them in a matter of 30 minutes. but, it was cute when we went back a little later to see if she remembered them, and i picked up the 0 and asked her what number it was... her little face lit up and she goes, "that's the number ZREBO, mommy!" zrebo... how stinkin cute! she was also really sleepy, and whined when i didn't cheer properly over the fact that she knew the numbers and guessed her way through the others. oh i love my girl so much. that's a positive thought to get me through the day! well... guess i better get off to my meeting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3041354714215826691?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3041354714215826691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3041354714215826691' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3041354714215826691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3041354714215826691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/randomness-shmandomness.html' title='randomness shmandomness'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-576931785703505929</id><published>2009-08-12T15:24:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T22:05:20.449-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello. Again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;it's been a while, again. does anybody still read this thing? probably not (besides you, Erica, that is...*AND BECKY :o)* ) i know i used to have a lot of little dots on my clustrmap and now i have maybe 20? probably not even that. oh well. the "popularity" was fun while it lasted, i guess!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;so. i began a new school year today. summer went wayyy too fast. entirely too fast. like a bolt of lightning that snapped out of the sky, hit the ground, and retreated back to the sky fast. yup, that's how fast it seemed to go. we had an incredibly fun summer. the munchkin is almost potty trained (yess), she baked cookies for the first time with my grandma, did sparklers on the fourth of july, went to the aquarium in inner harbor, visited the beach for the first time and &lt;s&gt;splashed like a wild chick-a-dee in the crashing waves&lt;/s&gt; ran for her life away from the water. i guess it wasn't that bad of a reaction, but still... it wasn't so great. she felt much safer with her cute little baby bum perched on a heap of beach towels with her pigs chilling out in the sand. she also started a new preschool and got signed up for dance class. yes, it was an amazing summer for us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i think this year is going to prove to be an interesting one to say the least. i'm dealing with two extra groups of kids, teaching a subject i didn't sign up to teach, and am dealing with special education. see, i told you it was going to be interesting, didn't i? i also just found out from my husband that there is an opening for a volleyball coach at the middle school. volleyball is the one sport i LOVE. i love football (especially steeler football), swimming, and hockey... but volleyball is totally amazing to me. i played from the time i was in seventh grade clear until i was out of college. it wasn't always necessarily for school because i couldn't stand the coach at my high school, so i played intramural for years. but i was still involved in playing on some kind of team. with this opportunity comes two dilemmas. one of them is that i already have a part-time job (well, technically two of them) on the weekends. i work with troubled girls, and the one has told me that if i stop working with her, she will be very upset. so, if i choose to coach, then that would mean more work time for me, and less family time. we are trying to get a lot of our debt, etc. taken care of so that would be beneficial because i'm pretty sure there is a stipend for coaching, but i'm just not sure that more time away from my husband and girl is worth it. the second thing is that i'm far from being in the same shape now that i was in when i played volleyball. sigh. well, i guess i'll pray about it, and see what answer i'm given. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;well, that's it for now. i know i'll have more interesting posts to create as the year starts with the kids, and with dance class.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-576931785703505929?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/576931785703505929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=576931785703505929' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/576931785703505929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/576931785703505929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/08/hello-again.html' title='Hello. Again.'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6160806565376747323</id><published>2009-06-12T14:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T20:15:04.902-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life in Fast Forward</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The last two weeks have been crazy to say the least... here's kind of how they went ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* school ended ~ yay!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* i created the benchmark tests and curriculum for next year (extra money... not complaining)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* had a couple days off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* our computer crashed with two viruses... boooo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* went to amish country to visit family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* went to my dad's churches picnic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* took the munchkin to inner harbor to the national aquarium with my parents... a blast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* play date with some little girls at my dad's church&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* visiting with the other set of grand-parentals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* long drive home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* found out today that our insane psycho freak superintendent resigned and is now going to be gracing some poor school in new york with her presence... good riddance to her and good luck to them &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* found out the whole april rose thing was a scam... such a sad thing to hear, but feel worse for the girl who thought she needed to do that to get attention&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* no more "eff you's" from the kiddo... whew, and yay!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* and i deff need to get back on board with the whole workout thing... eating like crap the last two weeks has done me not an ounce of good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* the hubster set up a make-shift computer using odds and ends parts from the 3 old computers we had sitting around... it's slow, but it works for now until we can get our new one fixed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* potty training officially starts monday ~ wish us luck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;* hopefully the bathroom reno. will begin soon-ish!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;now i'll be able to update more often *hopefully*!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6160806565376747323?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6160806565376747323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6160806565376747323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6160806565376747323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6160806565376747323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-life-in-fast-forward.html' title='My Life in Fast Forward'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3414712852709813707</id><published>2009-05-29T10:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T10:34:03.217-04:00</updated><title type='text'>from the mouth of babes my husband</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;our munchkin knows how to turn her CD player on, and wayyyyyy loud. as i was checking fb this morning, i heard my husband say this to our munchkin as she turned "God is so good" up as loud as she could ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;"yes, honey, God is so good, but just not that loud"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3414712852709813707?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3414712852709813707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3414712852709813707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3414712852709813707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3414712852709813707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/from-mouth-of-babes-my-husband.html' title='from the mouth of &lt;s&gt;babes&lt;/s&gt; my husband'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-4523497967156949320</id><published>2009-05-28T10:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T20:15:25.795-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Flabbergasted and Heartbroken</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#00cccc;"&gt;This morning while I was putting my two-year-old angel in the car, she looked at me and said, "Eff you, Mommy!" (the real word, not "eff" either, and yes, it was &lt;em&gt;plain.as.day&lt;/em&gt;.) I wasn't sure if that was actually what she had said (or, I didn't want to believe that was the phrase my &lt;em&gt;baby&lt;/em&gt; had just used), but she piped up again when I buckled her in "Eff you, Mommy". My heart was broken. I wanted to cry right then, but knew that it would only encourage her to repeat those disgusting words again, which is NOT what I wanted to happen. My child most certainly did not hear those words at home. I was seriously shell-shocked to hear such strong, hateful, disgusting language come from her little, cute, beautiful mouth. I am hoping that she doesn't say that phrase anymore, but I am not sure of my "plan of action" in case she does. I called my mom this morning, and bawled my eyes out to her about the fact that those words were uttered out of my sweet girl's mouth. Can you tell that it makes me sick? My mom said to put soap in her mouth if she continues to say that, but I shouldn't have to be to the point that I put soap in my baby's mouth for swearing at me.... like, the queen mother of all swear words. I cannot even begin to grasp the fact that she's even &lt;em&gt;heard&lt;/em&gt; those words, let alone knows how to &lt;em&gt;use them appropriately&lt;/em&gt;. All I can say is Praise God for the fact that today is the last day she will ever step foot in that babysitter's house. I am so thankful that He provided a way for her to go to a good school next year. And, yes, I realize that my child is going to be exposed to nasty language. I get that. But, at two-years-old? I was thinking more like two plus twelve years or something... not just &lt;em&gt;two&lt;/em&gt;. Then, it makes me even more sick that parents think it is appropriate and ok to speak to their children like that. All of the children that go to the babysitters are four and under, and that's where my kid is learning that kind of language? What are these parents thinking, seriously? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-4523497967156949320?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/4523497967156949320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=4523497967156949320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4523497967156949320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/4523497967156949320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/flabbergasted-and-heartbroken.html' title='Flabbergasted and Heartbroken'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8538096713858706016</id><published>2009-05-26T12:54:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T20:16:10.379-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can See Clearly Now The Rain is Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you know what? i love God... i love how He provides for us, and makes sure to take care of every little detail in our lives. nothing is too big or too little to go to Him with, and He makes sure to take care of his lambs. sometimes we don't always get the outcome or answer we were hoping/expecting to get. but, that is because it was &lt;em&gt;our&lt;/em&gt; plan, not &lt;em&gt;His&lt;/em&gt;. His plan is what's right, and what works best.... because, ya know, He's only had our lives planned since &lt;em&gt;before we were even born&lt;/em&gt;. how cool, huh? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;in my own little mind, i had a big plan. i had things planned out for what how our girl's educational road was going to look like in the next couple years. it was all mapped out, and i was ready! she's two now, and i know that she'll be in school sooner than we know it. for being two, she knows &lt;em&gt;a lot (&lt;/em&gt;yes, you've heard that before because i kind of like to brag on my kiddo &lt;s&gt;every now and then&lt;/s&gt; all.the.time. but i'm allowed cuz i'm her mommy). so, in my world, it was time to start getting her ready to start school not next year, but the next. my plan was for her to go to preschool this year at her new school, then actual pre-k here at our school when she was 3 1/2, and start kindergarten when she was 4 1/2. that was &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; plan. today, however, i've been given a &lt;em&gt;different&lt;/em&gt; plan, and i'm ok with that. i've been so worried about pushing my munchkin along, and making sure that she gets in to school early because she's so smart already. we werre so afraid she'd be bored when she went to school if she didn't start early. then, God made a situation occur and He showed me that my plan wasn't the best plan for our girl. His plan is better. i just happened to stay outside a little extra today with my kids.... you know, by my own will and everything, it was totally not God waiting for me to have the opportunity to get some good information, and the answers to my prayers... no, that wasn't it at all. while i was outside, the kindergarten teachers came out for recess a little earlier than normal (see, not God's hand working... i stayed late, they came early... definitely not Him). we all got to talking, and i mentioned that it was my plan to get my ever-so-intelligent &lt;em&gt;baby&lt;/em&gt; in to kindergarten when she was a mere 4 1/2 years old. because i'm the mommy, and i soooo know what is best for her. while we were having our little discussion, they both told me that they also started all of their girls, who had birthdays that fell in the middle of the year which made them older to start school, when they were 5 1/2. they confirmed that it wasn't disastrous, but it was actually very beneficial. the girls were always at the head of their class, they caught on to things a lot quicker, and were mature enough socially to handle being in school and the requirements that come along with being a good student. i tried to reason with them, and explain that my kid is very, very smart.... and hoped that they would agree with me that she indeed should start kindergarten a little earlier. but, that wasn't the case. they shut me down, and i lost.... case closed. i was also told that with them being actual kindergarten teachers, they feel that the kids who start early, even though they are smart, struggle greatly both academically and socially because they aren't old enough to handle the work or atmosphere. sooo, i guess this means that i have my answers to all of my worries about what to do with our girl and school. i want her to be successful, and don't want her to be an outcast because she isn't old enough to handle the work load or the social load. God wins... i lose (surprised? yeah, me either). all in all, i know this is the best choice for our princess. even though it wasn't what i originally planned, it's what needs to happen, and i am at peace knowing that He made the right decision for our girl... because He loves her..... just a little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8538096713858706016?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8538096713858706016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8538096713858706016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8538096713858706016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8538096713858706016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-can-see-clearly-now-rain-is-gone.html' title='I Can See Clearly Now &lt;s&gt;The Rain is Gone&lt;/s&gt;'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-2667282509528283637</id><published>2009-05-18T15:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T15:02:59.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'>F.Y.I.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;you can thank me now so you don't have to find out the hard way, like me, later ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;all dog lovers out there who also happen to be lovers of asparagus..... dogs.do.not.digest.asparagus. it will only come back out in the exact.same.form. it went in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;thought you'd like to know that... ya know, just in case.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;cuz i sure do wish someone would have taught me that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-2667282509528283637?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/2667282509528283637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=2667282509528283637' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2667282509528283637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/2667282509528283637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/fyi.html' title='F.Y.I.'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8286223860928209005</id><published>2009-05-14T14:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T14:37:32.351-04:00</updated><title type='text'>drop dead</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;every single year i have a kid in my room who stands out from the rest. sometimes it is that they are a better helper, whinier, a little different, and some other qualities mixed in there that just make them stand out. this year, i have a kid who is just down right hateful, obnoxious, and rude. he has made the atmosphere in my classroom not-so-great on many occasions, and the last two months have been no exception. he has been the rudest, most disrespectful, hateful child i think i've honestly ever seen. he always has to have the last.word. doesn't care that adults should be shown respect... respect... what is that? seriously? i've been patient, impatient, understanding, kind, not-so-kind, probably every adjective you could use to describe how someone interacts with another human being, i've played that role throughout the last 10 months. well, this week, mr. smarty-pants got a taste of his own medicine. as i said, he has been ten times worse the last two months than he has been the whole school year combined. it's horrible, and i am so ready to get him out of my class. yesterday, he asked me to call his mom while i was in the middle of a lesson. i said no, and that he could go during recess. he didn't like that answer, so he decided to throw a huge, whopping, i'm-acting-like-a-two-year-old (actually, less than two because my own two year old rarely acts like that) fit. he conveniently "forgot" to call during recess (why would he want to take play time away), and asked to go instead of eating lunch. the kids know they aren't allowed to do that, so he was told no again. once again, mr. lovely didn't like this answer. he took the fit throwing to another level, and decided to call me some really nasty, hateful names and also said that he wished i would drop dead. oh really now? so.... playing the impatient, i'm totally done.with.you. role, i acted about as nice as him! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;when he came in today, he needed to use the bathroom. "umm, i really need to pee, can i go to the bathroom?" no answer "i really really really really need to pee." no answer "i need to call my mom again today to find out what bus i am riding." no answer "did you know that some ten year old kid beat up his brother, how crazy is that?" no answer.... get my point? i did this all.day.long. it totally drove him insane, and then he finally exploded and said "i really wish you'd stop ignoring me." so, i politely replied, "oh, well, you wanted me to drop dead, so i figured i would just be dead to you. that is fine with me. you don't have to go to the bathroom, or call your mom, and i can just forget to call you to go to lunch and out to recess since you &lt;em&gt;wish i were dead, right&lt;/em&gt;?" i think it really made him think. on top of having this happen, the rest of my class was absolutely irate with him for making such a mean comment. they kept telling him he was the meanest kid on the face of the earth, and how could he wish i would die when i need to be a mother to my little girl and a wife to my husband. he was fed a little bit of humble pie, and i think he got a pretty big piece, actually. however humble he was today, it still doesn't change the fact that he isn't participating in our movie day, kickball tournament, and picnic. what.a.cryin.shame. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8286223860928209005?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8286223860928209005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8286223860928209005' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8286223860928209005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8286223860928209005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/drop-dead.html' title='drop dead'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-7327346021919073983</id><published>2009-05-10T20:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T14:37:04.748-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Ever since I knew I was going to have a little girl, I have quite often dreamed of finding a lot of the same toys I used to play with for her to also have while growing up. While looking online for the same toys I had (Strawberry Shortcake, Rainbow Brite, Care Bears, Sylvanian Families, etc.) and for the same Tooth Fairy pillow I had, I realized something. I need to let go, and let my daughter create her own memories with her own toys and things she cherishes. She will love all of her things the same way I loved mine, and they don't have to be the exact same thing. Just because they aren't the same things I had doesn't mean that she won't have a wonderful, amazing childhood full of so many great memories how I did. We just have to create those chances for her to make her own memories that she will cherish for a lifetime. I'm already excited about Christmas because we are going to do new traditions with her that weren't done in our families. I already found a new Tooth Fairy pillow that I love for her (and yes, to make sure I get the one I want for when she starts losing teeth, I will probably get it now even though she just turned 2... I'm crazy like that). So, I am letting go... with the knowledge that yes, she will have an amazing childhood... the same toys wouldn't make an amazing childhood for her.... it's the memories and times we have together that will allow for her to have that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-7327346021919073983?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/7327346021919073983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=7327346021919073983' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7327346021919073983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/7327346021919073983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/let-go.html' title='Let Go'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-3592312920293482365</id><published>2009-05-08T15:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T15:35:02.045-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When Aliens Attack You Realize You Have Become Stupid</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SgSIXv1sUzI/AAAAAAAAAdI/hdWT2swD-pI/s1600-h/paint.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333537800273548082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SgSIXv1sUzI/AAAAAAAAAdI/hdWT2swD-pI/s320/paint.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff9966;"&gt;It looks like I got gobbled up by a bright yellow thing from outer space. Sadly, this is the work of a genius, amazing, talented, wonderful educator who &lt;s&gt;was sabotaged by her students, and had them splatter paint all over her&lt;/s&gt; forgot to make sure the lid of the gallon of paint was tightly secured before she shook the crap out of it so the kids could make a banner for our parade next week. And, to top it off, the paint &lt;em&gt;soaked through&lt;/em&gt; my shirt, and it is all over my arm, chest, and under garments.... &lt;em&gt;nice&lt;/em&gt;!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-3592312920293482365?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/3592312920293482365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=3592312920293482365' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3592312920293482365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/3592312920293482365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/when-aliens-attack-you-realize-you-have.html' title='When &lt;s&gt;Aliens Attack&lt;/s&gt; You Realize You Have Become Stupid'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SgSIXv1sUzI/AAAAAAAAAdI/hdWT2swD-pI/s72-c/paint.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-6433220327489625971</id><published>2009-05-05T15:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T15:24:47.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SgCSaIbZNHI/AAAAAAAAAdA/ZwAjmUdqwa8/s1600-h/rain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332422936443303026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 79px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SgCSaIbZNHI/AAAAAAAAAdA/ZwAjmUdqwa8/s320/rain.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Welcome, rain, stay as long as you like!!! :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-6433220327489625971?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/6433220327489625971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=6433220327489625971' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6433220327489625971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/6433220327489625971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/rain.html' title='Rain'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SgCSaIbZNHI/AAAAAAAAAdA/ZwAjmUdqwa8/s72-c/rain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8779318477083768794</id><published>2009-05-05T15:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T14:38:32.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Women of the Bible</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SgCRaik8lUI/AAAAAAAAAc4/xq6MARMgGQY/s1600-h/women.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332421843951064386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SgCRaik8lUI/AAAAAAAAAc4/xq6MARMgGQY/s320/women.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have started a new devontional... it is called Women of the Bible. It focuses on 52 well known and not-so-well known women in the Bible. Each week concentrates on one specific woman, has Bible verses that pertain to her, tells her story, tells of her trials and tribulations, tells about her relationship with Christ, and also her prayers... I just started it, and I already &lt;em&gt;love it&lt;/em&gt;... I cannot wait for the next 52 weeks!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8779318477083768794?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8779318477083768794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8779318477083768794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8779318477083768794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8779318477083768794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/women-of-bible.html' title='Women of the Bible'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SgCRaik8lUI/AAAAAAAAAc4/xq6MARMgGQY/s72-c/women.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7862508101573996763.post-8347029854450047089</id><published>2009-05-04T06:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T18:31:24.467-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Me! Monday ~</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sfyuq901wvI/AAAAAAAAAcw/5lSYosyCK_0/s1600-h/NotMeMonday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331328112073753330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sfyuq901wvI/AAAAAAAAAcw/5lSYosyCK_0/s320/NotMeMonday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;These are some things that did not happen during my week ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;* upon seeing the 74 question science benchmark, i did not smile internally about the fact that i'd have at least 2 hours of no talking while my students took the ginormous test... i felt bad, really i did!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;* my 2 year old did not get constipated, only to poop a massive log on to our kitchen floor... she also didn't tell every body that, "i poop-ed (she says the ending separately, because she's cute like that) on the kitchen floor" for three days afterwards, either. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;* i did not about jump for joy when i realized we have 3 1/2 weeks of school left... rock on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;* the words "that sucks" did not come out of my mouth while in my classroom... much to the chagrin of my students... "oooohhhhhs and ahhhhhhhsss" did not follow either. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;* our trip to raleigh to see lord of the dance did not get us there 15 minutes late, and totally irritated with each other to the point that we were about ready to freak out... because we are both adults, and handle every situation in an adult-like manner... fo sho!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;* after we got our new carpet, my genius husband did not cut off a good end because it was too long.... to then notice the huge grease mark at the other end.... remember, i said genius.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;* one of my students didn't decide that he was going to spit on every single person that walked by him today because he didn't want anyone near him.... and upon getting scolded, he did not tell me that if i want him to stop spitting on people, then i need to tell people to stay away from him. he didn't then hear from me that i would go ahead and just take him down to the pre-kindergarten class because i was pretty sure that's where he has belonged for the last 2 months&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;that's enough confessing for today.... :o) head over to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://mycharmingkids.net/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;MckMama's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; blog to see a list of other people who didn't do things this week, either.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7862508101573996763-8347029854450047089?l=bre229.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/feeds/8347029854450047089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7862508101573996763&amp;postID=8347029854450047089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8347029854450047089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7862508101573996763/posts/default/8347029854450047089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bre229.blogspot.com/2009/05/not-me-monday.html' title='Not Me! Monday ~'/><author><name>~*~Bre~*~</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04735317879631870157</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/SRzhklMgQqI/AAAAAAAAASw/goTDOABVIWE/S220/046.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CLkONlg58A8/Sfyuq901wvI/AAAAAAAAAcw/5lSYosyCK_0/s72-c/NotMeMonday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
