tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205841362024-03-07T00:57:29.828-08:00Chronicles of MarniaMarnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.comBlogger165125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-46442716710765638472011-09-23T11:14:00.000-07:002011-09-23T11:14:58.241-07:00Trip to Seattle, 2011In early September, my husband and I loaded up a rented RV with my very pregnant sister, her husband and their 3 dogs. We embarked on a fun road trip from Dallas, TX to Seattle, WA to move my sister and brother in law to their new home. Click on the pictures to see our trip.<br />
<br />
My sister is due really soon with she and Greg's first baby, little Sophie Juel. Enjoy these pics, because from here on out, this blog might very well be all about the baby :-)<br />
<br />
<a style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1em; MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; CLEAR: right" href="http://goo.gl/photos/FuAIK9Kji0" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-pkZbvvsbcUo/Tm9rs1agtNE/AAAAAAAAHgQ/d2McIO4tAuk/s160-c/TripToSeattle2011.jpg" /></a>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-5646501959637491012011-08-30T12:55:00.000-07:002011-08-30T12:55:27.294-07:00The Summer of SuckI'm 99% sure I called last summer the same thing...but I'm too beat down to go back and look at my blog. That's how suckish this summer was. Let's recap, shall we?<br />
<br />
--I took a new job in October. Yay for more money. <br />
--At the beginning of summer, the City of Dallas gives an across the board pay cut. Hubby's pay cut takes up all of my new job pay raise...and then some. Like, to the tune of $20,000.<br />
--The same broke City of Dallas builds decorative suspension bridges from South Dallas to downtown Dallas. I now glare menacingly at them as I drive past them and think "Oh, those paycut bridges are just lovely"<br />
--Lindsay moves home for the summer. I love her. She loves me. But when an "independent" kid moves back home with her parents, it ain't all sunshine and roses. We made it. No blood was shed. God is good.<br />
--My new job requires dealing with hostile people. I'm the senior manager, so all complaints funnel through me. I start to believe humanity is more stupid than I feared.<br />
--I inherit a new cat. Existing cats become distressed. One manifests stress in puking on the ONLY rug in my house, daily (couldn't aim for the hardwoods...Heaven forbid) Other cats manifests stress in peeing on my bed pillows<br />
--After months of telling us "everything is fine", daughter's college Financial Aid department informs me "we lost all your paperwork. Start over. And hurry or she'll lose her schedule and her housing". <br />
--For 2 weeks in a row, I've worked 11 hour days<br />
--Daughter starts new school. Uniforms are required. They tell me the wrong colors (WTF??)<br />
--I return wrong colors, and my mom graciously buys right colors. Half don't fit. Sigh.<br />
--Money gets ridonkulously tight as our house payment jumps a little too high for our liking and we are paying for college classes for summer<br />
--DFW (Dallas/Ft Worth Metroplex for those of you not living here) sees 64 straight days of over 100 degree temps<br />
--It hasn't rained a drop since May<br />
--My lawn dies. Then my bushes die. The flowers never had a chance<br />
--My foundation begins to crack and my sidewalk leading to the front door sinks. Now I'm waiting for visitors to catch their toes on the now-elevated porch and take a header into my front door<br />
--People are SO cranky because of the heat (see above about hostile people I deal with at work)<br />
--Hubs is told he's being transfered back to patrol. He's been a recruiter/background investigative detective for 6 years<br />
--City of Dallas says "Haha. Just kidding. Stay in recruiting" but then don't give him anything to do since the suspension bridge money keeps them from being able to hire new officers. He can't stand not having work to do.<br />
--Hubs is now stressed at work. I start to take on his stress. I'm supportive like that.<br />
--My pregnant sister announces she and her husband are moving to Seattle :(<br />
--I'm burning out on a particular ministry at church. I want to drop out, but guilt prevents me. Guilt is a fun emotion.<br />
--Youngest daughter starts youth group and jr high. I wonder where my baby went (see previous post)<br />
--My faith feels weak...almost non-existent. It's not like me. Depression sets in. Anger sets in. I stop talking to God<br />
<br />
It has been a bad summer<br />
<br />
But...<br />
<br />
God knew all of this was coming. He took the path before me. He walked it beside me. He even kept walking beside me when I spiraled to a dark place and stopped talking to Him. He let me cry and yell at Him for feeling so distant. He let me struggle. I didn't see why at the time, but I see it more clearly now. A sweet friend gave this to me when the struggling hit its peak--<em>A demon blocked Daniel's prayer for 3 weeks until the angel, Michael, removed the demon so Daniel could speak to God. The obstacle in the way of Daniel's prayer had to be removed before God could receive or answer. You sometimes have to determine what the obstacle is before it can be removed.</em><br />
<br />
In my heart, I knew <strong><em>I</em></strong> was the obstacle. I never doubted that. But not until a recent sermon from my sweet pastor, Rodney, did I realize the extent of my obstacle. He preached to us on Luke 15--The Prodigal Son. Rodney just slayed me as he talked about the older son in the parable. The older son who resented his brother being welcomed home. The older son who had done all God asked of him and felt he should be rewarded. Here's where it got ugly (I wrote it down, lest I forget)<br />
<br />
Rodney "<em>In my years of pastoring, I'll never forget this moment. I sat across the desk from a woman who sought my counsel. She was in tears and deep grief over her son who was running from God. He made very bad choices that had huge consequences and his mother was so distraught. She looked me in the eye and said 'Why did this happen? I raised my son in church, taught him God's word and lived what I believed. Why is God letting this happen to my son?' </em><br />
<br />
As clear as if He were sitting in Dane's chair beside me, God said to me "Why do you think I owe you? You're angry and sad because you think I'm not allowing circumstances to keep you happy. But why do you think I ow e you that?" It was gut-wrenching and I just dissolved to tears. Like the sobbing, ugly cry you don't ever want to do as you sit on the front row of your church. But that's how bad I felt that I was saying to the God of the universe, "I'm so pissed that we're struggling for money, it's too hot and people are rude to me on a daily basis!<br />
Suddenly as if God were replaying this summer for me, it occurred to me that deep in my heart, I had decided that my bad times in life were when cancer came at us, and since that's long over now, then God "owes me" a smooth sailing life from here on out. Wow.<br />
<br />
I think this summer was so God could weed out the thoughts in my heart I wasn't allowing Him access to. I think He needed me to see that the older son carried as much sin as the Prodigal Son because the older son felt God was indebted to him for his good works and attitude. Wow.<br />
<br />
I'm still reeling from the summer. Things are slowly (but surely) mellowing out and I'm now capturing the dark thoughts to the glory of God. It's still hot (like center of the sun hot people!!), people are still rude (but somehow if I smile at them anyway, they get sweet. Go figure) and God has faithfully pulled us from the money pit. And my heart? Well... I'm talking to God again. And I am: "pressed but not crushed, persecuted, not abandoned, struck down, but not destroyed". I'm remembering it "rains on the just and the unjust". I'm recalling "It is because of His mercies we are not consumed. And because His compassion never fails, it is new every morning--Great is His faithfulness"<br />
<br />
Amen and amen.<br />
<br />
Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-52264503556986532011-08-22T08:17:00.000-07:002011-08-22T08:17:27.168-07:00Where did my baby go?Today Peyton started 6th grade. Yesterday she was "promoted" from Children's Church to Youth Group. And since then I've been asking myself...where did my baby go?<br />
<br />
This was my little sunshine years ago when God handed her over to us after many years of waiting on her...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2u1dKmnAh8rg7SSR3ShBrqYhQGdFttg-ASegcb2zhEeyu1HIuHlxwhSaBN2mlJ1CWWug_Osw2aS3XzVA96UN1LRrziin8ga_wXLTEUj3CnwCV4UOnBg-0Vj7rBLslhlrQyQk/s1600/n18311733_33622080_9211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2u1dKmnAh8rg7SSR3ShBrqYhQGdFttg-ASegcb2zhEeyu1HIuHlxwhSaBN2mlJ1CWWug_Osw2aS3XzVA96UN1LRrziin8ga_wXLTEUj3CnwCV4UOnBg-0Vj7rBLslhlrQyQk/s200/n18311733_33622080_9211.jpg" width="131" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Here she is living past when the doctors told us she would...but God had other plans!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsVKLImrXDkRUq85PGQnKk4QoHSRhyphenhyphenclv5G_2AqNn0sQUt-RlLsQvK6TkbP8LLT8_wNyaei1jkI8ZHxRLjtNZLWmh91u73qCZjZC9JohRp4vDT7LT5MR0tlPL3b6MvEQTw8552/s1600/bunnyears.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsVKLImrXDkRUq85PGQnKk4QoHSRhyphenhyphenclv5G_2AqNn0sQUt-RlLsQvK6TkbP8LLT8_wNyaei1jkI8ZHxRLjtNZLWmh91u73qCZjZC9JohRp4vDT7LT5MR0tlPL3b6MvEQTw8552/s320/bunnyears.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>And here she is this morning. One of my two best gifts from God. Does she look ready to take on the world or what? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fKjZx_S6gLk/TlJywPm5oLI/AAAAAAAAGrY/Ghq4LSULCGk/s1600/Waxahachie-20110822-00002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fKjZx_S6gLk/TlJywPm5oLI/AAAAAAAAGrY/Ghq4LSULCGk/s320/Waxahachie-20110822-00002.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>But still...where did my baby go? <script type="text/javascript">
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<br />
Late this summer, my family and I are embarking on a cross-country trip. I plan on taking kabillions of pictures and thoroughly enjoying every second of our journey. I'm even making a stop to see my awesome friend <a href="http://buzzbyannies.blogspot.com/">Annie</a>. Can't wait!!<br />
<br />
As I pondered, it reminded me of this cute little song that became quite popular in Texas a few years back. <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NNkucbM4wF0?rel=0" width="425"></iframe><br />
<br />
I was totin’ my pack along the dusty Amarillo road<br />
<br />
<br />
when along came a semi with a high and canvas covered load.<br />
<br />
“If you’re goin’ to Amarillo, Mack, with me you can ride,”<br />
<br />
and so I climbed up in the cab and then I settled down inside.<br />
<br />
He asked me if I’d seen a road with so much dust and sand,<br />
<br />
and I said, “listen, bud, I’ve traveled every road in this here land...” <br />
<br />
CHORUS:<br />
<br />
I’ve been everywhere, man,<br />
<br />
I’ve been everywhere, man,<br />
<br />
I’ve crossed the deserts bare, man,<br />
<br />
breathed the mountain air, man,<br />
<br />
of travel I’ve had my share, man,<br />
<br />
I’ve been everywhere.<br />
<br />
I’ve been to Waco, Hico, Hondo, Navasota, <br />
<br />
Winnsboro, Jacksboro, Hillsboro, Santa Rosa,<br />
<br />
Austin, Houston, Galveston, Texarkana,<br />
<br />
Frisco, Buffalo, Conroe, Corsicana,<br />
<br />
Goliad, Groesbeck, Glen Rose, Red Oak,<br />
<br />
Post Oak, Live Oak, Lone Oak, no joke... <br />
<br />
REPEAT CHORUS <br />
<br />
I’ve been to Krugerville, Pflugerville, Van Horn, Val Verde,<br />
<br />
Brackettville, Bartonville, Beeville, Bulverde,<br />
<br />
Bear Creek, Cedar Creek, Mill Creek, Mineola,<br />
<br />
Maypearl, Monahans, Telephone, Tuscola,<br />
<br />
Redwater, Round Rock, Round Top, Round Lake,<br />
<br />
Sour Lake, Southlake, Springlake, for Pete’s sake... <br />
<br />
REPEAT CHORUS <br />
<br />
I’ve been to Greenville, Gatesville, Gainesville, Alameda,<br />
<br />
Kerrville, Kellyville, Bastrop, Benavides, <br />
<br />
Somerville, Smithville, Stephenville, Prairie View,<br />
<br />
Luckenbach, Longview, Plainview, Idalou,<br />
<br />
Justin, Junction, Panorama, Pasadena,<br />
<br />
Angelina, and Lorena...see what I mean-a...<br />
<br />
<br />
REPEAT CHORUS <br />
<br />
I’ve been to Valley Mills, Pine Mills, Dime Box, Duncanville,<br />
<br />
New Home, New Hope, New Deal, Liberty Hill,<br />
<br />
Rockport, Rock Creek, Bridgeport, Brownwood,<br />
<br />
Cleburne, Comanche, Cut & Shoot, Cottonwood,<br />
<br />
Bayview, Bayside, Baytown, Bay City,<br />
<br />
Falls City, Center City, Bridge City, what a pity... <br />
<br />
When it comes to travelin’ Texas, friend,<br />
<br />
I’ve been everywhere. <br />
<br />
<br />
So many of these little towns I've visited, drank the best Dr Pepper in, lived in, went to college in, fell in love in, raised babies in...it's been a good few minutes of reflection and suddenly, I feel a little better about life :-) <br />
<br />
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<br />
Click <a href="http://rachelheldevans.com/rally-to-restore-unity-day-1a">here</a> to see all about it. And in the meantime, here's my eensy contribution...<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">He really does love you. He even did this for you:</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KQfjZ5qcnMw/TbBwzIQH2BI/AAAAAAAAGms/FBUwfgPTxGA/s1600/173-0629235113-Jesus-cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KQfjZ5qcnMw/TbBwzIQH2BI/AAAAAAAAGms/FBUwfgPTxGA/s400/173-0629235113-Jesus-cross.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy Easter. He is risen, indeed!</div>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-83298547161609658202011-04-11T09:15:00.000-07:002011-04-11T09:15:34.973-07:00I miss satellite radio so much...or, why Dave Ramsey is the boss of me<strong>The good news:</strong> We don't have any credit cards, so no credit card debt. Yay us.<br />
<strong>The bad news:</strong> We are rapidly accruing student loan debt and still owe $40,000 in medical bills for Peyton's treatment. Boo us.<br />
<br />
Enter Dave Ramsey. And I love Dave. I really, really, <em>really</em> do. But man. He is wrecking my swag. <br />
<br />
To know me is to know I don't like to be bossed around. I let God boss me around, annnnnd that's about it ;-) But now, Dave Ramsey is the boss of me. Sigh. <br />
<br />
Dane and I did a hard core evaluation of our money situation. We've spent the last 6 years having a love/hate relationship with our checking account. We were the couple that did it right. We have college degrees, well paying jobs, lived within our means, saved for college for our girls. <a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/tx/peytonwhite/">Then cancer showed up</a>. It wiped us out financially. We spent college money on chemo. And we were (are) seriously bothered that our planning was all for nought when it came time to pay for Lindsay's education. And we felt stuck. And we felt angry. And we felt fearful. And we began to take on student loan debt to the tune of $20,000 a year.<br />
<br />
Then after some <a href="http://www.stonegate-church.com/resources/sermon-archives/">wonderful and wise sermons</a> from our dear pastor <a href="http://www.stonegate-church.com/about-stonegate/staff/">Rodney</a>, and some serious prayer and listening to God, we knew we were being called to rid ourselves of debt.<br />
<br />
I bought this amazing book and got to reading:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NHot9gYTOtI/TaMkSfw8rRI/AAAAAAAAGmg/Fruic2Hseao/s1600/Dave+Ramsey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NHot9gYTOtI/TaMkSfw8rRI/AAAAAAAAGmg/Fruic2Hseao/s1600/Dave+Ramsey.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I knew we had our answer from God. I can tell you we aren't doing ALL of the things Dave recommends (neither of us is getting a second job because we have a child to raise and she needs us more than we need to rid our debt) but most of his other stuff, we're all in. And at first, it was a snap. <br />
<br />
Then Dave started to boss me about the "extras" we spend our money on. He took shots and my bi-weekly manicures, my grocery spending...and my satellite radio.<br />
<br />
<em>RIP dear friend. I love you and miss you</em>:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJju07WTyVLUx-VtOW5scp5IaXGqFbL7b22Ww7wHzyGgZZ2ZElM9yhcI5lfRnWpUvOsO_zmSEmbEK3E08BUaig0Y3Ay4FrGyM85OUoVqvYOMAUAxwyA1djsd10yPfh_I_OlYR/s1600/Sirius.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJju07WTyVLUx-VtOW5scp5IaXGqFbL7b22Ww7wHzyGgZZ2ZElM9yhcI5lfRnWpUvOsO_zmSEmbEK3E08BUaig0Y3Ay4FrGyM85OUoVqvYOMAUAxwyA1djsd10yPfh_I_OlYR/s320/Sirius.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Dave bossed me until I gave up my satellite radio. I cried. I'm embarassed to admit that, but I actually sat in my car and cried. I love my satellite radio. I'm a commercial snob, so Sirius completed me. I could listen to brand new Jesus music, old 80's hairband tunes, and Top 40 country. It made me so happy. It also cost me over $250 a year. <br />
<br />
But here's the thing. I've learned to enjoy (read: not love) public radio. It's free and it will do. But man, Dave is so the boss of me.<br />
<br />
I also got on board with my sweet internet buddy <a href="http://www.jonacuff.com/blog/">Jon</a>, and he and Dave showed me how to <a href="http://e-mealz.com/">spend grocery money responsibly.</a> Bless them. That didn't hurt at all, so Dave can be nice too.<br />
<br />
I'm still getting bi-weekly manicures though. Rome wasn't built in a day. <br />
<br />
<strong>The good news:</strong> According to Dave, we'll be debt free in 6.10 years. That. Includes. Our. Mortgage. 9 years ahead of schedule. God is amazing. So is Dave Ramsey :-)<br />
<strong>The bad news:</strong> There isn't any. God is setting us free. How awesome is that?Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-7705005489950115912011-03-28T13:55:00.000-07:002011-03-28T13:55:30.767-07:00Spring Break!We had such a great Spring Break. I don't have a single photo to post. Dane took our camera swimming in Lake Fork several weeks ago and we currently have nothing to photograph memories with. But I'm a resourceful woman. Since I don't have photos, I'll just tell you about our week and post fake pictures. Just pretend it's us. This will be fun! Really!<br />
<br />
Part of why this was such a great Spring Break is that I haven't actually had one in years. God bless Higher Ed for hiring me, then giving me a week off. Bliss. Except that I spent my Spring Break in a lakehouse house full of college students. I can't seem to escape them. Lindsay brought 6 friends who tried very hard to eat us out of house and home ;-)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg074bJEZVdcHdmCNd-fvf-c9PqkZcaEOLBakDbVja8xszk-ah9a2o8b4_KOh1waBc7r05LgptNzolkVwhozqV-dpvZnV4n_1T44ojWhcq3bb6kJC3RA2_im-yuVaH5ti0_hUAo/s1600/imagesCA00KVJR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg074bJEZVdcHdmCNd-fvf-c9PqkZcaEOLBakDbVja8xszk-ah9a2o8b4_KOh1waBc7r05LgptNzolkVwhozqV-dpvZnV4n_1T44ojWhcq3bb6kJC3RA2_im-yuVaH5ti0_hUAo/s1600/imagesCA00KVJR.jpg" /></a></div><br />
My awesome in-laws bought us Jet Ski's for Christmas and we promptly broke them in on lake Granbury this weekend. Collectively, we put over 60 hours on 2 Jet Ski's in less than 6 days. Yep, we wore them out and had a blast doing it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3v3_Zi7HcTo/TZDx3PWYR8I/AAAAAAAAGmA/L9unXuVOUig/s1600/Ultra250-blue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" r6="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3v3_Zi7HcTo/TZDx3PWYR8I/AAAAAAAAGmA/L9unXuVOUig/s320/Ultra250-blue.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">(Man, I look GREAT on a jet ski. I even look blonde. Who knew?)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>The fishing wasn't good. Poor Lake Granbury is fighting with Golden Algae right now. The fine Aggie's from Texas A&M are currently studying the how's and why's. Reports state the algae claimed as many as 240,000 fish :-( <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7eoOEMJ75EYf_lVMLC_QzQ9UBxEE5YsCwR3eV_NnwBehunPOz9vYbt1-6Aumqzwiy3f2VBZOrdCse_HZHd6lrxfgP5LhldIClkfCXp9f8WvjPkEfPhkbnU0j8GdVUYq_f07_b/s1600/golden_algae_bloom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7eoOEMJ75EYf_lVMLC_QzQ9UBxEE5YsCwR3eV_NnwBehunPOz9vYbt1-6Aumqzwiy3f2VBZOrdCse_HZHd6lrxfgP5LhldIClkfCXp9f8WvjPkEfPhkbnU0j8GdVUYq_f07_b/s1600/golden_algae_bloom.jpg" /></a></div><br />
We took everyone out for great food at a Japanese Steak house. It was a blast watching our chef create food art, right in front of us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIM0SX9imSm62IrEsBrDTys6XvpFuF9RP-KlHOCnx9weGrwBG-XEl6FC_cLa9Z7hfg3gLnl_CoUafJUxUEFDwSj06GLxLEV82zN87ll1CNglYSGDj_r8FShbqAwkEYERcTTz5z/s1600/imagesCAQ41AU6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIM0SX9imSm62IrEsBrDTys6XvpFuF9RP-KlHOCnx9weGrwBG-XEl6FC_cLa9Z7hfg3gLnl_CoUafJUxUEFDwSj06GLxLEV82zN87ll1CNglYSGDj_r8FShbqAwkEYERcTTz5z/s1600/imagesCAQ41AU6.jpg" /></a></div><br />
My very dear friend, Stephanie, and I helped pump the local economy with some power-shopping trips!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqLVmFzCc_Zq9YdaIlueogGnTsBdFr2XuWHKy0UybD-yOJdjLs48dGF_UxScjZ64og-UGrlHbqwu5X-FJTRQzf4IOk8r81E0w_Kz4FVKshqFpANsF-jaHen4oYYo2SF9c-aot/s1600/imagesCASUY3YF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqLVmFzCc_Zq9YdaIlueogGnTsBdFr2XuWHKy0UybD-yOJdjLs48dGF_UxScjZ64og-UGrlHbqwu5X-FJTRQzf4IOk8r81E0w_Kz4FVKshqFpANsF-jaHen4oYYo2SF9c-aot/s1600/imagesCASUY3YF.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">(WOW! I look better shopping than I do on a jet ski)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Of course there were romantic nights on the dock watching the sunset with Dane. Very relaxing, I must say.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbNuvY_fILNIb7DJ07pmEnaAYgOObg26X3KOW7YXoVO63o-AYCBKbiKUKFqyKYCRGgoTS1VqqshED9sTOlzneRbYn5eGxr8FJJBsORNceG0G81oCSlqHspb_oHnB690VX64sf/s1600/imagesCA4RQ4P8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbNuvY_fILNIb7DJ07pmEnaAYgOObg26X3KOW7YXoVO63o-AYCBKbiKUKFqyKYCRGgoTS1VqqshED9sTOlzneRbYn5eGxr8FJJBsORNceG0G81oCSlqHspb_oHnB690VX64sf/s1600/imagesCA4RQ4P8.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div align="left">Mani's and pedi's made for a relaxing time too!</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iQcS_jexwgQ/TZD1VvCLO9I/AAAAAAAAGmU/Bl-VBqV47FU/s1600/imagesCABM8M0L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iQcS_jexwgQ/TZD1VvCLO9I/AAAAAAAAGmU/Bl-VBqV47FU/s1600/imagesCABM8M0L.jpg" /></a></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">Yes, it was a great week!! Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta head on over to Amazon.com and buy a new camera. I'm open to suggestions. And if you know of any water-proof ones, lemme hear from you.</div>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-81861908291638562022011-02-11T08:10:00.000-08:002011-02-11T08:40:48.145-08:00Yeah, I'm backToday's post is both a PSA and a rant. In the words of my blog-rockstar friend Katdish, sorry/you're welcome.<br />
<br />
First, the PSA. I find it my duty to share funny blogs when I find them. Here are my two recent finds (although they've likely been around forever)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://damnyouautocorrect.com/">This One</a><script type="text/javascript">
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document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));
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</script> (yeah, I left the name off...this is a G rated blog) and <a href="http://parentsshouldnttext.com/">Parents Shouldn't Text</a>. Now this may be a G rated blog, but the two I just listed...aren't. But OMGoogle, they are stinkin' hilarious. They are also the reason I haven't drank the iPhone Kool-Aid yet and will stick it out with my Blackberry thankyouverymuch.<br />
<br />
And now...the rant.<br />
<rant><br />
So did you see the news today about the public school teacher who blogged about her students? She didn't name names, but <a href="http://dailycaller.com/2011/02/11/mean-girl-teacher-suspended-for-blog-rants-about-students/">her comments on her (personal) blog have set off a firestorm</a>. I don't condone name calling. It doesn't generally produce any change in behavior or attitude. But this isn't a rant about the teacher busting on her students in cyber-world. It's about the way the administrators are flipping out and how the students have developed a holier-than-thou attitude.<br />
<br />
I don't know about the rest of you educators out there, but I am seeing an alarming trend of behavior with our younger generations. They aren't all like that, so hear me on that. But some students I deal with day in and day out <em>sometimes</em> exhibit some highly unrealistic expectations of how they should be treated by others around them (read: entitled). And they don't always respond well to being told "no". Maybe the teacher felt that as well and "lost it" as she blogged? Could be.<br />
<br />
And I don't know about the rest of you parent's out there, but I'm not raising my daughters to assume they have the God-given right to <em>never</em> be offended. I console them when people treat them harshly or hurt their feelings, and when it's appropriate, I intervene. However, this world is full of jerks. To assume it isn't, is naive. To teach my daughters they are allowed to go through life without being offended, is simply setting them up for failure.<br />
<br />
So here is where those two points converge...for me, at least. <br />
<br />
--The administrators should come down on the teacher if she violated school or district policies. However, if the reason behind her suspension is because she actually called a spade a spade, well...I take issue with that. In an ideal world, the teacher would have kept her rants to an appropriate audience (spouse, friends, therapist). Writing out your feelings is a superb idea. Hitting "publish"...not so much. But was she wrong in being critical of students who have a history of rudeness, laziness and disrespect in her classroom?<br />
<br />
--According to one article I read, some students created a Facebook page called "I'm a victim of Ms. Munroe". And they rant about her. Ironic much? They are upset she called them out for being rude, lazy and disrespectful. And if they weren't those things, by all means, be irritated at being called something you're not, but then get over it since you know it's not true. <em>But </em>if they are true, is it truly okay to throw fits and demand she not say and think such things about you? Administrators and parents: are we doing these kids any good when we teach them that people who speak out against them, will be punished (they are threatening to fire her). Is that the kind of lesson we want to give kids? Maybe we've already taught them that and that's why some youth I see and Ms. Munroe sees, behave as they do? Maybe? Thoughts?<br />
<br />
</rant>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-59266743450798193342010-10-21T08:55:00.000-07:002010-10-22T09:12:51.762-07:00Dancing in the MinefieldsThis blog entry is for an audience of one (but of course the rest of you are welcome to be blessed by the song)<br />
<br />
Dane, I heard this in the car this morning on my way to work, and I cried until the mascara was long gone.<br />
<br />
How fitting this song describes our engagement and marriage. My word, but we have danced through the minefields these last 20 years, haven't we? And since our Jesus, the center of our amazing marriage, saw fit to send me to sail through the storm, only with you in the boat with me did I make it safely to shore.<br />
<br />
I have loved you since I was a bratty college kid. Why you chose me, I'll never know, but thank God you did. I love that when you sit on the couch with me and hold my hand, you still make my heart flutter and my stomach jump excitedly like you did the day we met. I love these babies we've been blessed with. I love how you are my best friend.<br />
<br />
I love you eternally...literally :-)<br />
<br />
m<br />
<br />
<object height="295" style="background-image: url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/NtTa81LyuQM/hqdefault.jpg);" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NtTa81LyuQM?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NtTa81LyuQM?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-84475408162833752352010-09-27T06:47:00.000-07:002010-09-27T06:47:02.399-07:00September--my month of smiles, my month of tears<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We're slowly winding down September, which is officially Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. September always brings me lots of good memories--Peyton was declared in remission on September 16, 2004. But September brings me some painful memories--Our sweet Courtney took a huge turn for the worse right after Labor Day in 2005. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/TKCcUtq_SBI/AAAAAAAAGVI/tx_1jHaQLpo/s1600/bestbuds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/TKCcUtq_SBI/AAAAAAAAGVI/tx_1jHaQLpo/s320/bestbuds.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<center>Peyton and Courtney, October 2004</center><br />
<br />
After Jesus called Courtney home, this song helped me. A lot. And some days, I never thought I would get through it (note that I said through it, not over it)... <br />
<br />
<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i-hJ87ApWtw?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i-hJ87ApWtw?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br />
<br />
And all though my family and I will never be <i>over</i> losing Courtney<br />
<br />
and Griffin<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/SuclHRi0nZI/AAAAAAAADns/gXoAXaI5zwQ/s1600/grifdane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/SuclHRi0nZI/AAAAAAAADns/gXoAXaI5zwQ/s320/grifdane.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
And Elisha<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/Suck7G4IpTI/AAAAAAAADmc/ru5dK3ELKMg/s1600/peyelisha2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="234" px="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/Suck7G4IpTI/AAAAAAAADmc/ru5dK3ELKMg/s320/peyelisha2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
And way too many others...Kelsey, Kennedy, Jorge, Andy, Lauren, Alexis, Micah...<br />
<br />
This month, God gave me a new song. He's just awesome like that :-) I hope it gives you peace like it does me. I especially love the part where she says no hurt comes to us that doesn't pass through God's hands first. He's in charge of it, before I ever feel it. I love that about our God. I really, really do.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<object height="344" style="background-image: url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/OA3MSqufJP4/hqdefault.jpg);" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OA3MSqufJP4?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OA3MSqufJP4?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br />
<br />
As always, if you want to help fund research for cures and less toxic cures for children, please go to <a href="http://curesearch.org/">Curesearch.org</a> and jump in to help. Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-23873392295086158162010-09-15T12:09:00.000-07:002010-09-15T12:09:11.576-07:00When You're Holding a Hammer (Everything Looks Like a Nail)<object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/EfH46DTAkxo/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EfH46DTAkxo?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EfH46DTAkxo?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript">var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));</script><br /><script type="text/javascript">var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-5011827-1");pageTracker._initData();pageTracker._trackPageview();</script>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-15338111578083973752010-09-07T09:17:00.000-07:002010-09-07T09:17:16.193-07:00Their lives in 3 words<object height="344" style="background-image: url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/TQRYoL9lCQY/hqdefault.jpg);" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TQRYoL9lCQY?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TQRYoL9lCQY?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br />
<br />
September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month<br />
<br />
<br />
And did you know...<br />
<br />
<br />
...36 children will be diagnosed with cancer today?<br />
<br />
<br />
...7 of them will die today?<br />
<br />
<br />
...cancer is the #1 disease killer of children under the age of 18?<br />
<br />
<br />
...some of the deadliest forms of cancer on earth, only go after children?<br />
<br />
<br />
...those cancers (Neuroblastoma, Rhabomyosarcoma, brain tumors and Ewing's Sarcoma) only have a 30% cure rate?<br />
<br />
<br />
...children who survive cancer, (thanks to chemo and radiation) have a high chance of cancer recurrance within 10 years because chemotherapy and radiation causes cancer?<br />
<br />
<br />
...if cancer comes back, the cure rate drops by half?<br />
<br />
<br />
...children who survive cancer almost always suffer from learning disabilities, impaired motor skills, memory function issues, hearing loss, bone loss and fertility issues (my daughter has all of these)<br />
<br />
<br />
......The largest cancer funding organizations in the world only give 5% (or less) of their funding to research children's cancer?<br />
<br />
<br />
Would you like to help change all this? Good. Here's how.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://curesearch.org/">Curesearch.org</a><br />
<a href="http://www.teamconnor.org/">Team Connor</a><br />
<a href="http://stjude.org/">St Jude Hospital</a> (They share research knowledge with hospitals all over the world)Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-21538846297096720242010-08-31T10:16:00.000-07:002010-08-31T10:16:23.881-07:00I feel a rant coming on...I'm a proud alumni of a thriving University. I heart it so much, I sent my oldest daughter there too. She just began her Sophomore year.<br />
<br />
As all parents try to do, we scrimped and saved a college fund for her. And in one (literal) day, wiped out the account paying for Peyton's radiation. These things happen. This rant isn't about being broke (although, that's tempting).<br />
<br />
No...this rant is about Financial Aid. A beast I never intended to face since my husband and I were hoping to pay for our children's education ourselves. You know who is a bigger beast than Financial Aid? The Financial Aid office at my daughter's school.<br />
<br />
I consider myself to be of average intelligence (Higher intelligence in spelling, how to drive properly, politeness and making great coffee. Below average in hand-eye coordination, Guitar Hero and working a weed eater. That averages out to average intelligence, no?) Anyway, I thought an average person could navigate something like Financial Aid. I think I'm wrong. I'm pretty sure it's run by the same people who write the IRS codes. But, I read, I fill out, I double check my work, and I get it done. It's the only shred of Type A in me, but it's fierce. <br />
<br />
My daughter's Freshman year, I could see how establishing a new Financial Aid account was going to require me to jump through various hoops, and trust me, I did. But I expected this year to be smoother (note: smooth<em>er</em>, not smooth). I. Was. Wrong.<br />
<br />
I filled out all the loan apps for the 2010-2011 year in May. I was given a verbal gold star by the Financial Aid <strike>mouth breathers</strike> staff for getting the paperwork in early and completely. Yay.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, I called to see why her loan money had not been dispersed so she could purchase her books. They said, "what loan"? Hmmm.<br />
<br />
I give <strike>moron </strike>staff member # 1 (all told, I would talk to 4 before the day was out) the loan number, daughter's name and social security number. <br />
<br />
Staff 1: "Nope, we have no record of a loan. Will you be paying her tuition by check or credit card. It's overdue now you know". <br />
<br />
Me: "What do you mean there is no loan? I'm on the financial aid section of your website, logged in and I can see it.<br />
<br />
Staff 1: "Well, okay. There is a loan, but you haven't signed the MPN (Master Promissory Note). Log in, digitally sign in and call us back {click}.<br />
<br />
So I log in. MPN is signed already (Type A). Duh. I call back.<br />
<br />
Me: "Hi. I was just talking to someone about my daughter's financial aid and was told the MPN wasn't signed. Then I was (AHEM) disconnected. I logged in. It's signed. Can you tell me the hold up in disbursing the loan?"<br />
<br />
Staff 2: "We have no record of a loan for that student"<br />
<br />
Me: Facepalm. Twice. <br />
<br />
I essentially have the same conversation with her. I hang up and call the loan originator. They tell me beloved school is crazy. Loan has been signed off on since May and is ready to be disbursed. They even give me detailed directions to give the staff on how to find the loan on their system. <br />
<br />
I call Financial Aid office again:<br />
<br />
Staff 3: "Well the loan is here. We can see it. It's been signed, but your daughter didn't mail in her letter. We're about to drop her schedule, so you need to take care of that."<br />
<br />
Me: "Yes she did. I stood over her while she wrote it and I mailed it myself. I even sent it certified mail and had you sign for it. And you did."<br />
<br />
Staff 3: "Oh. Well she didn't sign her contract. That's the holdup"<br />
<br />
Me: Head hitting the desk "YES SHE DID. I mailed that too. And had you sign for it. And you did"<br />
<br />
Staff 3: "Oh. Hang on a minute" {click}<br />
<br />
I call back. Now I have a headache from clinching my teeth. I have pits in my palms from digging my fingernails into them. <br />
<br />
Staff 4: "Is your daughter on campus right now Mrs. White?"<br />
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Me: "Yes, unless you kick her out" and then I laughed weakly to show I still can be charming. She didn't notice.<br />
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Staff 4: "I show she signed the contract and we received it, but it's missing. Would she mind coming down and signing it again and then I promise we'll disburse the money. I apologize for this. Really".<br />
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Me: "She'll be there in 30 seconds. Maybe sooner. Thank you so much for your willingness to help me and knowing how to get this solved. You are my island of competency is a sea of stupidity. Where can I send your fruitbasket to?<br />
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Staff 4: SNORT! (She honestly snorted when she laughed). <br />
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(Here's my rant to my <strike>formerly</strike> beloved University. Brace yourself).<br />
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<em>Do you have any idea how hard it is for a parent to let their child move out of the safety of the home and off to a college campus? We are trusting you with a child. Not an account number, a CHILD. Do you have any idea how much debt we're putting ourselves in to pay for college? Do you think when a parent calls and needs your guidance, you can pretend to care and be competent and help?</em><br />
<em>I looked you all up on the school website. You are adults, not student workers. Some of you have been there for more than 15 years. Are you still training for your job or have you simply forgotten you should still be in the business of customer service? </em><br />
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<em>I can imagine how many hostile people you deal with in a day. I imagine the phone ringing off the hook makes you want to update your resume and head for the hills. BUT. I did my part correctly and before the deadline. I'm handing over my baby and thousands and thousands of dollars. As a trade to that, couldn't you just key in information quickly and correctly as it came in? And when you can't, can you take the time to stay on the phone with me until we are both satisfied our issue is fixed? Do you realize you created this same angst-ridden situation last semester and the semester before that? At what point can I decide you know what you're doing and will do it?</em><br />
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<br />
Next semester, I'm ready. I'm going down there in person, and I'm taking my friend <a href="http://steeletheday.com/">Candy</a> with me. Her motto is: <em>They eventually figure it out, but need to demonstrate incompetence first. Ugh</em>. Spoken like a true veteran. Plus, she's a nurse, so she can administer CPR to me when they nearly give me a coronary incident.Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-27944042537088154662010-08-05T07:50:00.000-07:002010-08-05T07:52:21.210-07:00All because of a Maytag Atlantis...<em>Juxtaposition (noun): two objects or situations that oppose one another</em><br />
<br />
Last week, I had the pleasure of attending the <a href="http://www.echoconference.com/">Echo Conference</a> in Dallas. It was all about taking our creativity and technical knowledge and using it to echo the Gospel. <br />
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I don't think I've ever been in a concentrated space with that many Macbooks, iPhones and iPads before. And although my Twitter account is two years old, I spent more time on Twitter reading the #echo10 hastags in one week than I've collectively spent on Twitter in those two years. I drank gallons of $3 coffee and fought off gadget-envy all week. In other words, I found myself briefly living in the glamorous world of high tech, Toms shoes, and all things Apple. (It was a great conference. I learned a lot and I'm still processing it all and how to use it in my job and at my church.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgydmJZFt2ZkR9etFdPgqBzRu3pxbfImYP-CGdTGnGzJM6i17Uanw23oEC2Pb5vq2c3EabMid6ffACHfG1dEJEDEFwMSuqAMaFGDKyX_HOt5OGhZ1BhjAoPBsUOzlvkjPeLHNq/s1600/iPad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgydmJZFt2ZkR9etFdPgqBzRu3pxbfImYP-CGdTGnGzJM6i17Uanw23oEC2Pb5vq2c3EabMid6ffACHfG1dEJEDEFwMSuqAMaFGDKyX_HOt5OGhZ1BhjAoPBsUOzlvkjPeLHNq/s320/iPad.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Saturday, my dryer decided it had enough of this life and died an untimely death. (It was only 7 years old. This is where I want to rant about sucky products that don't last decades like they used to, but I'll spare you). My youngest had just gotten home from camp and I was staring down 9 loads of laundry...and no dryer. To say I was annoyed and whiny, is a mild understatement.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpl-kLvvQTcDW6FXzGKb-cb0aMDtEVKzBlx9q8dXBXxcInlGgS7T1WDKLImkIO-RppyYr7jDXvaWKSw-bHSwXUVjs_quVi6HVuMJ_vQHKDQX5Prjt6oqXYut3soTF2UtjoCQ5e/s1600/dryer.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpl-kLvvQTcDW6FXzGKb-cb0aMDtEVKzBlx9q8dXBXxcInlGgS7T1WDKLImkIO-RppyYr7jDXvaWKSw-bHSwXUVjs_quVi6HVuMJ_vQHKDQX5Prjt6oqXYut3soTF2UtjoCQ5e/s320/dryer.bmp" /></a></div><br />
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After <a href="http://www.stonegate-church.com/">church</a> on Sunday, I skipped my Sabbath Nap (which my friends and family know, I take VERY SERIOUSLY), loaded up 9 loads of laundry into my car, and Peyton and I headed to the local laundromat.<br />
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All the way there, I was just dreading the experience. Laundromats are crowded and not always clean. I'm a mild germaphobe (okay, a major one. I'm like <a href="http://www.usanetwork.com/series/monk/">Monk</a>. But worse) and using public washers and dryers was freaking me out. And this is what I'm most ashamed of...what if creepy people were there? I was not looking forward to spending time there. <br />
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As I pulled into the parking lot, one last thought popped into my head...what if Peyton feels embarassed about being here? Right about that time, God had enough of me. My heart was suddenly filled with the conviction of thinking I was too good to be at the laundromat. Ouch.<br />
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In less than 24 hours I went from dreams of an iPad or Macbook, to standing among 20 or so people who probably would be thrilled to just have a washer and dryer in their home. I was humbled. And embarrassed at my attitude. Here I was temporarily inconvenienced for one day, while most of the people around me did his weekly.<br />
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Shaken smooth out of my brattiness, I began engaging with people. So did Peyton. She saw a friend from school and they sat giggling over BBQ chips from the snack machine. One sweet lady helped me with the soap dispenser that I didn't understand. One man gave me advice on which dryer was better for towels and sheets. Another kind lady told me Monday afternoons were the best days to come since the crowds were low. They were their own little community, and they welcomed me in. <br />
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Strangely, I'm not in a huge hurry to buy a new dryer. I think God needed me to learn a little humility, so I am. Maybe next week, we'll get a dryer. But until then, I look forward to another Sunday afternoon at the Wash it Kwik.<br />
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PS--Happiest of happy birthdays to my great friend <a href="http://www.katdish.net/">Kathy</a>. When (if) I grow up, I wanna be just like you ;-)<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank you, Lord, for the means to show her (and me, when I need reminding) that nothing of this life is of worth, without You in it and all things I consider rubbish, that I might gain You.</span><br />
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<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Duj9sS-mqSo&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Duj9sS-mqSo&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-18347101457892132862010-07-13T07:12:00.000-07:002010-07-13T07:19:47.894-07:00Feathers From My NestTwelve years ago today, God gave this earth <a href="http://griffinyarbrough.com/">Griffin Yarbrough</a>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TynkwbR8wY_m7NzDp83L9IIM5SuS2jQqyAiI6dMlx5_qule87PTFiqfWFt5vfxyLbroHHZ2doJ3scqNs3pkqJRmsnUmRABfZxCWBsVoDZtn0TB-GjZC0WOLSqofZg7eqtw6L/s1600/grifboat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TynkwbR8wY_m7NzDp83L9IIM5SuS2jQqyAiI6dMlx5_qule87PTFiqfWFt5vfxyLbroHHZ2doJ3scqNs3pkqJRmsnUmRABfZxCWBsVoDZtn0TB-GjZC0WOLSqofZg7eqtw6L/s320/grifboat.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Griffin was the epitome of energy, happiness and bravery. At two years old, <a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/tx/griffinyarbrough/">Griffin was diagnosed</a> with Stage 4 Neuroblastoma--cancer of the central nervous system.<br />
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He fought hard. His parents fought hard. And he still was the epitome of energy, happiness and bravery.<br />
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I met Griffin face to face on July 1, 2004. I'd be corresponding with his mother Monique via email for a few months. We met through our kids' Caring Bridge pages. I read that her family was moving to Texas from California. I reached out to her as one scared cancer mom to another and a friendship was born that still remains today. Griffin began treatment at Children's Medical Center where my daughter was treated and the day I walked into the triage room in July and saw Griffin for the first time, I knew I'd love him forever. <br />
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On January 3, 2005 I laid in his hospital bed with him all day as he was preparing to go to Heaven. We talked about Jesus, we talked about angels, and we talked about being healed from cancer. Early the next morning, he closed his eyes to needles, blood draws, radiation and blindness, and opened them to a promise, High and Lifted Up.<br />
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Here is an excerpt of a blog post I wrote after his passing...and Happy Birthday little man. I miss you and I love you. Don't forgot to save me smile and an angel's feather...<br />
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<em>I’ve been reading a wonderful book called “Feathers From My Nest”. It’s by a remarkable woman of God named Beth Moore. I’m a huge fan of her Bible studies so I picked this book up about a month ago and began reading. The book is a reflection of Beth’s life from the perspective of a mother whose children have left the nest. </em><br />
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<em>Today, I began reflecting on the feathers from my nest…and bear with me as you read this. For many, this may not make much sense. Courtney and Griffin were not bore from my body, but they were my children. God released love in me for these two sweet souls that I could never have imagined. And long before I was ready, they left my nest. But they left behind such precious feathers that I walk through my house and pick up and marvel over. Let’s start with Griffin’s feathers:</em><em><br />
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<em>We put wood floors in when Peyton was in treatment. We were desperate to rid our house of carpet because it harbors bacteria and germs are a nightmare in a child with no immune system. As a blessing, the house looks really nice, but that’s not what impressed Grif. Griffin’s first feather in my nest was that he walked in to our home the first time and told me that wood floors are the best floors to hip-hop dance on. And hip-hop skills did this cutie possess!! He took lessons while he still lived in LA. If that weren’t enough, he taught me some too. I had a long and distinguished (HA!) dance career when I was young. My parents put me in pink ballet shoes for the first time when I was two years old. I grew into tap shoes, jazz shoes, and drill team boots over the next 16 years. I hung up my dancing shoes at 19 when I traded up to wedding shoes. It had been a long time since anyone taught me a new kind of dance. Some days when I’m zipping around the house in my socks getting stuff cleaned or cooked, I’ll slide a bit on my wood floors and think of my precious little hip-hopper. I now have some pretty smooth moves for a 30-ish stay at home mom!</em><em><br />
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<em>Another feather Griffin left in my nest were his sweet little boy clothes. We have girls in this house. Poor Dane is painfully aware of the overflow of estrogen in his kingdom on any day. But, for a while, we had a boy. A loud, jumping, burping boy. And it was great! The day Griffy left us, he wore a bright yellow t-shirt. Later that day, he got sick, so he took a bath and put on his camouflage jammies. He got sick again, so he changed again. I put his clothes in the washer there on the 10th floor for the Oncology families to use. Hours later, Grif went to meet Jesus. In all that, we forgot about his clothes in the washer. One of Grif’s nurses found them, dried them and gave them to me. As you know, Courtney loved Griffin. She was devastated when he died. I took the bright yellow t-shirt, and made a pillow out of it. On the back, I wrote a Bible scripture. She carried it to every clinic visit, every hospital stay, and slept with it every night. We called it her “Griffin pillow”. She loved to hug it since it felt like she was hugging him. I still have the camo-jammies. They are tucked away in my cedar chest where the most precious of my feathers are. I get them out sometimes when I’m having a hard time. I lay them out on the floor and see how small they are and how cute he looked in them. I know Griffin is more than okay. He has his Jesus, and now he has his Courtney, but holding his jammies lets me go back for a moment or two and remember his voice, his hugs, and that smile that melted me each time I saw it. </em><br />
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<em>My favorite feather from Griffin came as a gift to us from him. As Griffin’s cancer progressed the last few days he was here, Monique and Barry insisted on letting Griffin spend one-on-one time with Dane and I so we could say all the things we wanted to say to each other before he left. I promised him Heaven would be the best thing he could imagine and that we would be there soon to see him. I promised him I would never, ever, forget him and would look after his mommy, daddy and Blakey. I also told him that he made me so happy and that I loved him so much. He told me that he loved me and would miss me so much when he went to Heaven and we played a few moments of “remember when’s”. I got lots of hugs on that last day. He played with my hair for a minute and the rest of the time, we talked about Heaven, Jesus, and the farm he knew was waiting on him. That was my gift from him. What I did not expect was that gift to become more than just a precious memory tucked into my heart. Griffin actually made a video telling Dane, the girls and I goodbye. Indeed, that is one of my most treasured feathers from this little man God gave to me for a season. His presence changed me and my heart forever. </em><br />
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<em>And I miss my little bird from our nest every single day. Yesterday, I found a precious scripture in Matthew 16:19. It says “…whatever you bind on earth will be bound in Heaven and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in Heaven.” I bound Griffin to my heart here on earth, and God assures me Griffin will be bound to me in Heaven. Until then, I have his feathers to get me through until I see him again.</em><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjruvTQpNdMAYUCxEO-khyp_dSlTlrSHlJy5AxW_vYuzhVZR0Yk2DeiFSraE7V9S5EUC933f9r5Jly4TC8NgVXnwEjwUSe72oQQYciDmyYojuVjc9jvYYwSnGqbjffV2xTcuq9x/s1600/Griffin+Make+A+Wish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjruvTQpNdMAYUCxEO-khyp_dSlTlrSHlJy5AxW_vYuzhVZR0Yk2DeiFSraE7V9S5EUC933f9r5Jly4TC8NgVXnwEjwUSe72oQQYciDmyYojuVjc9jvYYwSnGqbjffV2xTcuq9x/s320/Griffin+Make+A+Wish.jpg" /></a></div><script type="text/javascript">
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Without further delay, I gave you...rainbow man:<br />
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PS--Is it me or does anyone else think "shrooms" when they hear this man?<br />
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<center><a href="http://duane-scott.net/"><img border="0" src="http://i857.photobucket.com/albums/ab134/duane2scott/texture-1.jpg" /></a></center>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-52934561023964458442010-07-01T09:10:00.000-07:002010-07-01T09:10:27.231-07:00MajestyWe sing this at church a lot. Do you <em>really</em> understand you are His desire? You are. You. So. Are...<br />
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We've been to Disney World in June, October and now May. And I can say with no hesitation, the next time we go, it will be dead of winter. And even then, it will only be °60. But no more heat for us thankyouverymuch.<br />
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We had a great trip, however. We hit all of the parks (water parks included) at least twice.<br />
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Here are some highlights:<br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/baP0wc2o93ERtBbFVTWzVw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD9MCDMthI/AAAAAAAAF40/flyyoe9oItQ/s400/DSCN1244.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1tZqew8sM3j60W6N18LzJA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD9TxQJcQI/AAAAAAAAF5E/KmjsmWPY13E/s400/DSCN1249.JPG" /></a><br />
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Her birthday card signed by the Winnie the Pooh characters<br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ZefTZy947z2N3vXhGHko9w?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD9e-PEe5I/AAAAAAAAF5c/3N2BRXNTAJg/s400/DSCN1254.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/b58frm6gY4WGwTj8qhUSKQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD9nl84x_I/AAAAAAAAF5w/73EG6Y6K7F8/s400/DSCN1259.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xQ7MmVmJy7vbsEyhJeQrfg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD9qjB3XGI/AAAAAAAAF54/r3sLhV5JxXA/s400/DSCN1261.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/iard2GKkEw2DCTMtxb6DGg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD-DHmne5I/AAAAAAAAF6w/g_aL4-8HhRo/s400/DSCN1275.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/zs5Kw0qft1Ts5V52vAYtNg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD-FKwydaI/AAAAAAAAF60/CAT4-kg5KtY/s400/DSCN1276.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/sCmU3Y6NphQe0Sub5F0Jxg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD-IPyc0PI/AAAAAAAAF7A/QsRe_Iclr4c/s400/DSCN1278.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Nab6WVC85itIV7ms57Hcfg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD-MswHiiI/AAAAAAAAF7I/fkQPA39G_F4/s400/DSCN1280.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/AfYlPrDlJH9lICnaKV-ciw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBD-UsF64BI/AAAAAAAAF7g/fjzC78UeNAY/s400/DSCN1285.JPG" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/marni1290/DisneyWorld2010?feat=embedwebsite">Disney World 2010</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/marni1290/DisneyWorld2010?feat=embedwebsite">Disney World 2010</a></td></tr>
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qWg_xgvMEQmHi898lujhWw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBEFAGZl5vI/AAAAAAAAGKQ/tEW-AeTQSi0/s400/DSCN1533.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/bsHasPv7Jg-7fqpjAY27qQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBEFC--qt9I/AAAAAAAAGKY/dFMm-O8-gwA/s400/DSCN1535.JPG" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/u4kci8oivQGsiyGeyZWpJQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_XHygao13AHc/TBEFRwIVvmI/AAAAAAAAGK4/7m0txVCzibs/s400/DSCN1547.JPG" /></a>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-46466344446658383412010-05-25T09:52:00.000-07:002010-05-25T09:53:25.860-07:00CureSearch Walk<a href="http://curesearch.org/">CureSearch</a> is an organization dedicated to funding research and less toxic cures for childhood cancer. They host 5k benefit walks all over the country to help raise money, and this year, they <em>finally </em>came to the Dallas area. We walked with Team Griffin in rememberance of our favorite little man.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/S_wAFGaLfzI/AAAAAAAAF18/yF0SADtWj44/s1600/Griffin%5B2%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/S_wAFGaLfzI/AAAAAAAAF18/yF0SADtWj44/s320/Griffin%5B2%5D.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="200" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fmarni1290%2Falbumid%2F5474822270394602657%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-49678290495066659762010-05-20T11:17:00.000-07:002010-05-20T11:19:49.394-07:00Happiest Place on EarthWe're about to head out to Disney World. I love vacations. But the worst part? I hate flying...not that I'm scared, but the hassle of the airport and the other flyers is such a beat down. But Brian Regan is trying to help me laugh it off. For you summer travelers...enjoy!<br />
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<object style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/5RmWGAolxEk/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5RmWGAolxEk&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5RmWGAolxEk&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-69899501808141984902010-05-11T07:07:00.000-07:002010-05-11T07:08:40.023-07:00My Mother's DayDane and the girls graciously gave me my Mother's Day present last month when they sent me, my mom and my sister to see Bon Jovi in concert. Woot! I told them not to get me any thing else. I'm glad they didn't listen because this year, both of my girls gave me "from the heart" things that had me tearing up and laughing out loud. <br />
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Lindsay mailed me this. She comes from a long line of smart @$$ women in our family (just ask our husbands). I'm so proud she's carrying on the tradition...<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">She had finals to study for so I didn't think I'd see her for Mother's Day. Saturday night, she showed up and surprised me :-)</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Peyton worked hard at school making me a Mother's Day book (if you can't see the page very well, click on it and a larger version will load):</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">I never said I was a nerd. She must have called my sister.</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQkRoj_6S9ZhJ3cWKjLp8GVYU2oJU8UHFJ8oPiylxoQMksEs4GYm-b-LJp3QduM5cGkzOZUm4fftJdxFAJ6eWbFEIZCnEkpfWCZbo8DT2Ms9UGeSdz020Ty-9DmrT3DEDi-ga/s1600/Peyton+book+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQkRoj_6S9ZhJ3cWKjLp8GVYU2oJU8UHFJ8oPiylxoQMksEs4GYm-b-LJp3QduM5cGkzOZUm4fftJdxFAJ6eWbFEIZCnEkpfWCZbo8DT2Ms9UGeSdz020Ty-9DmrT3DEDi-ga/s320/Peyton+book+4.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRWXl9fQkpC2b90F3jtArH5zNgfkAGp8miNOFQIeZae0_SMWaclVe2xu8Omap1nW1_4fyFoHQE921Htme3ZPnKMNC2pxXoiczvdvqp-54xJHTgtTLzKKn9NDEpwnh_CgMIcUgP/s1600/Peyton+book+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRWXl9fQkpC2b90F3jtArH5zNgfkAGp8miNOFQIeZae0_SMWaclVe2xu8Omap1nW1_4fyFoHQE921Htme3ZPnKMNC2pxXoiczvdvqp-54xJHTgtTLzKKn9NDEpwnh_CgMIcUgP/s320/Peyton+book+3.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQ41QtG-smW5XXt27mnXwDQbrHUjzdphdRGoRURhqPShT31PkcOWnkzoxpxxAHXYJYrnkst9vxT-Mkl4hQc2ENdXC-9UBm2UWlf99QTCiN-ikb0VT6hwKNdF7Ck4wvL7k47lB/s1600/Peyton+book+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQ41QtG-smW5XXt27mnXwDQbrHUjzdphdRGoRURhqPShT31PkcOWnkzoxpxxAHXYJYrnkst9vxT-Mkl4hQc2ENdXC-9UBm2UWlf99QTCiN-ikb0VT6hwKNdF7Ck4wvL7k47lB/s320/Peyton+book+6.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">A few years back, she found out she and I don't have the same blood type. Instead, she has Dane's. She's obsessed with this "phenomena". She thinks the reason she looks and acts like her daddy is because she got his blood instead of mine.</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTAF4KgVZRnDX5wj9Zyb21Hv99COjgNxvfcjvizgPbsMW0ywqh4NggGk3BcCe3-z37wodemRLGLtZ2Kkm2gXxQ0Sq7skF5wNOp0Q7zCvajImuhocAiOyYsklSN1NhEXgRgFjuJ/s1600/Peyton+book+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTAF4KgVZRnDX5wj9Zyb21Hv99COjgNxvfcjvizgPbsMW0ywqh4NggGk3BcCe3-z37wodemRLGLtZ2Kkm2gXxQ0Sq7skF5wNOp0Q7zCvajImuhocAiOyYsklSN1NhEXgRgFjuJ/s320/Peyton+book+7.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCas4V3utbd-u6iS-o0zS5ZVqHbu7cjUP5UYOIUkJzdRmvldZOoFwAdGGUB03wmzz1SVbZ5xXkZoIC61Pgz89Lv1wtyTK_Or9P-raBq_3w7f_c1rn3qJD_gwoM-vWFBltAHxu3/s1600/Peyton+book+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCas4V3utbd-u6iS-o0zS5ZVqHbu7cjUP5UYOIUkJzdRmvldZOoFwAdGGUB03wmzz1SVbZ5xXkZoIC61Pgz89Lv1wtyTK_Or9P-raBq_3w7f_c1rn3qJD_gwoM-vWFBltAHxu3/s320/Peyton+book+8.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Yes, I stink at Guitar Hero--my family asks me to play just so they can laugh. And I clearly capped out at 4th grade math because her homework leaves me feeling like a moron. That spending money thing...I'm good at that. She just heard her dad smart off about how bad I am TELLING him I spent it ;-)</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/S-lgoV8QepI/AAAAAAAAFwc/GGJRsGu9HcY/s1600/Peyton+book+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/S-lgoV8QepI/AAAAAAAAFwc/GGJRsGu9HcY/s320/Peyton+book+9.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNds8kjcix2_fIBE0jRP_GAzHOoTQ9Xem04asBAcpFBZPOKtldPwxnWHVcUvLt4BXgOdNcrXaZVi5q2MS8kP3OErCJ1Bq8GAgcMIxUPCdAU6OEmH5yx0BTP7JIC2TaKWi6OqG/s1600/Peyton+book+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNds8kjcix2_fIBE0jRP_GAzHOoTQ9Xem04asBAcpFBZPOKtldPwxnWHVcUvLt4BXgOdNcrXaZVi5q2MS8kP3OErCJ1Bq8GAgcMIxUPCdAU6OEmH5yx0BTP7JIC2TaKWi6OqG/s320/Peyton+book+10.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/S-lha3ZBe9I/AAAAAAAAFws/fTh0LUG9Rgw/s1600/Peyton+book+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/S-lha3ZBe9I/AAAAAAAAFws/fTh0LUG9Rgw/s320/Peyton+book+11.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEfQ98ojjVtnq5AGyNTftz4U3ZAbv9iO4AhgQgQodQMdc4rjsE3W9bQy0cGb5A91YTRVm-5QWxd6pBhpHhcz7J9Nmtq3yXt8GClbhSYNkgSASp-D1orydey-2pf9bkTsWtPcA/s1600/Peyton+book+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEfQ98ojjVtnq5AGyNTftz4U3ZAbv9iO4AhgQgQodQMdc4rjsE3W9bQy0cGb5A91YTRVm-5QWxd6pBhpHhcz7J9Nmtq3yXt8GClbhSYNkgSASp-D1orydey-2pf9bkTsWtPcA/s320/Peyton+book+12.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">She doesn't like my Eggplant Parmagiana...duly noted ;-)</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisB9P2Q_MatWzc2Sls2hR99YJ2ttO3Rn2v2Ndf4-Hp5JFYXYhrNyiPh-EQt64oJeH9LOqX8MDrjfRx14w83BppIRPy5x6YBSNRJscDToMDw_8B_HVduS06clADlsKecAR701HZ/s1600/Peyton+book+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisB9P2Q_MatWzc2Sls2hR99YJ2ttO3Rn2v2Ndf4-Hp5JFYXYhrNyiPh-EQt64oJeH9LOqX8MDrjfRx14w83BppIRPy5x6YBSNRJscDToMDw_8B_HVduS06clADlsKecAR701HZ/s320/Peyton+book+13.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/S-liMFkWSJI/AAAAAAAAFxE/2hbTtL7ETL4/s1600/Peyton+book+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XHygao13AHc/S-liMFkWSJI/AAAAAAAAFxE/2hbTtL7ETL4/s320/Peyton+book+14.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">I just love this book. She exaulted and humbled me all the way through the book...and that's what motherhood has been for me, so it's only fitting.</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">To you mom's out there, I hope it was a great day for you. And to my dear friends Mo, Kelly, Kellye, Suzanne and Mary who have a child in the arms of Jesus, I prayed for you all weekend as you spent the day without your angels.</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">To my moms (Linda, Kay and Kathy) and my dear friends Mo, Helen, Ade, Emi ...I know your mom's spent Mothers Day with Jesus. I prayed for you all weekend as well. </div>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-31114386439466652632010-05-05T08:44:00.000-07:002010-05-05T08:44:54.443-07:00I'm the Mom!A very happy birthday to my friend and fellow mom, <a href="http://buzzbyannies.blogspot.com/">Annie</a>. Love ya like a fat kid loves cake Annie. Where are my crablegs??<br />
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And to all the mom's or those with mom's ;-) a very happy Mother's Day!<br />
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</script>Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20584136.post-52910833160671906212010-04-22T09:43:00.000-07:002010-04-22T09:43:42.404-07:00Happy Earth DayI want to be a <a href="http://katdish.blogspot.com/">good blogger</a>. I want to be <a href="http://fottsp.blogspot.com/">funny</a>, <a href="http://www.billycoffey.com/">thought provoking</a>, and <a href="http://redclaydiaries.com/">write the humor of everyday life</a>. I wish I could at least <a href="http://buzzbyannies.blogspot.com/">take beautiful photos</a> or <a href="http://steeletheday.com/">create great recipes</a>...but alas, that's not me. But enough of the shameless plugs ;-)<br />
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Looking at Twitter and my Google Reader has shown me that blogger code apparently mandates I post about Earth Day. So far, my 2 biggest post inspirations have come from my buddies in the bloggy world.<br />
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Since I can't possibly top their takes on Earth Day, I'll just send you on your merry way to them...<br />
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<a href="http://randommusings-helen.blogspot.com/2010/04/protesting-earth-day-on-principal.html">Helen</a>--She laments the loss of Pluto. I'm with her on this. How can we possibly celebrate Earth when Pluto has been so callously demoted?<br />
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<a href="http://tremendousnews.com/2010/04/22/how-we-celebrate-earth-day-a-pie-chart-breakdown/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+TremendousNews+%28Tremendous+News%21%29&utm_content=Google+Reader">Tremendous News</a>--Dee has posted a handy pie chart to show you how most of us are celebrating Earth Day. He uses pretty colors and short words. It's perfect for the on-the-go, ADD gal like me.<br />
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Hope you enjoy them! And Happy Earth Day :-)Marnihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13917254303905983572noreply@blogger.com4