tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16458640997407086732024-02-02T07:19:10.112-06:00Baby Love and Other DrugsDaniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-68119711418653173442012-11-29T23:12:00.001-06:002012-11-29T23:12:08.743-06:00Kelly Clarkson - Never Again<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/GVYesEpMr84?fs=1" width="480"></iframe><br />
<br />
If I were a completely honest person (which, alas, I am not), I would admit that this was really the song that pissed me off all day the day I posted about The Sunday's Wild Horses. While that was part of it, this is really the song that set me off. <br />
<br />
I suppose I could weave a story about a very turbulant girl of about 24 or 25, who was desperate to cling onto anything or anyone that would help her forget the sorrow of her parent's divorce, her grandparent's illness, and her personal hearbreak of not so very long before. That girl very quickly learned a truth spoken by Maya Angelou - "When someone tells you who they are, believe them". When someone tells you, "I guess now you know what a jerk I am", this is something to take to heart. People can speak truths about themselves very clearly when you really care to listen.<br />
<br />
She could look back on this, as she is now a wife and mother, and know that the warm feelings within her are no longer there. For they truly are long gone.<br />
<br />
"I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,<br />
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,<br />
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;<br />
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,<br />
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:<br />
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion."<br />
Ernest Dowson<br />
<br />
She was blessed with something far greater, true love far deeper - and a really honest to God flesh and blood man who loves her far beyond her worth. <br />
<br />
Why should that girl still be mad? Perhaps she never got any closure, and doesn't she love to scream at the top of her lungs when she feels she's wronged. She was left with nothing but thin air, from a man who just disappeared with no warning.<br />
<br />
But she was owed nothing, so she got nothing. For what was there was nothing but a trifling flirtation, the goad of a middling age, a mere misunderstanding. A very sad girl who was strung along by someone who for a while loved the attention. Surely and truly, that was all.<br />
<br />
That someone is now in a "relationship", for the first time in years. She could speak from experience on this - that distance of a great magnitude between a couple does not give a real relationship: it give the illusion, but it provides only a mere ghost of what is truly meant to be between a man and a woman. <br />
<br />
For you are still afraid you old fucking coward of a man. Don't fool yourself into thinking anything less.<br />
<br />
But I digress. Perhaps anger can fuel a tired soul. Perhaps she is a glutton for punishment. <br />
<br />
And maybe this is all just a story, written by a tired mother who loves to write fiction and who used to blur fantasy with reality when it suited her. A mother who is trying to take to writing again, but has found that she is too sick and tired with her mysterious illness to do much else at night other than do "research" on the historical periods she long to write about.<br />
<br />
That would be so grand. If only it were only a story. Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-44128603303141913912012-04-28T13:46:00.000-05:002012-04-28T13:46:08.987-05:00Happiness v. Joy<sup><span style="font-size: small;">John 15:9-17 (NLT, bold words by me)</span></sup><br />
<sup><span style="font-size: small;">9</span></sup> <woj>“I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love.</woj> <sup id="en-NLT-26675">10</sup> <woj>When you obey my commandments, you remain in my love, just as I obey my Father’s commandments and remain in his love.</woj> <strong><sup id="en-NLT-26676">11</sup> <woj>I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy. <em>Yes, your joy will overflow!</em></woj></strong> <sup id="en-NLT-26677">12</sup> <woj>This is my commandment: Love each other in the same way I have loved you.</woj> <sup id="en-NLT-26678">13</sup> <woj>There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.</woj> <sup id="en-NLT-26679">14</sup> <woj>You are my friends if you do what I command.</woj> <sup id="en-NLT-26680">15</sup> <woj>I no longer call you slaves, because a master doesn’t confide in his slaves. Now you are my friends, since I have told you everything the Father told me.</woj> <sup id="en-NLT-26681">16</sup> <woj>You didn’t choose me. I chose you. I appointed you to go and produce lasting fruit, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask for, using my name.</woj> <sup id="en-NLT-26682">17</sup> <woj>This is my command: Love each other.</woj><br />
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<div class="header">
<h2 class="me">
joy</h2>
</div>
<div class="body">
<div class="pbk">
<span class="pg"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">noun</span> </span></span><div class="luna-Ent">
<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">1.</span> </span></span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">emotion</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">great</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">delight</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> </span><a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/happiness">happiness</a><span id="hotword"> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">caused</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">by</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">something</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">exceptionally</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">good</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">satisfying;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">keen</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">pleasure;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">elation:</span> </span><span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">She</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">felt</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">joy</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">seeing</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">her</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">son's</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">success.</span> </span></span></div>
<div class="luna-Ent">
<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">2.</span> </span></span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">source</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">cause</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">keen</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">pleasure</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">delight;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">something</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">someone</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #0055bb; cursor: pointer;">greatly</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">valued</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">appreciated:</span> </span><span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">Her</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">prose</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">style</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">is</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">pure</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">joy.</span> </span></span></div>
<div class="luna-Ent">
<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">3.</span> </span></span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">the</span> </span><a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/expression">expression</a><span id="hotword"> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">display</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">glad</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">feeling;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">festive</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">gaiety.</span> </span></div>
<div class="luna-Ent">
<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">4.</span> </span></span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">state</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">happiness</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">felicity.</span> <div class="header">
<h2 class="me">
hap·pi·ness</h2>
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<div class="body">
<div class="pbk">
<span class="pg"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">noun</span> </span></span><div class="luna-Ent">
<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">1.</span> </span></span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">quality</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">state</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">being</span> </span><span><a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/happy" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;">happy</a><span id="hotword">. </span></span></div>
<div class="luna-Ent">
<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">2.</span> </span></span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">good</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">fortune;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">pleasure;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">contentment;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #0055bb; cursor: pointer;">joy.</span></span></div>
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</span></div>
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<span></span><span></span> </div>
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<span>Looking at the definitions, it doesn't seem like there is much of a difference at first, does there. Read closer - at the end of the day, joy isn't always something that comes from without, it comes from within. Also, it is more complex than simple happiness. It something we do more than something that is. It is called a noun, but it is really a verb, adjective, or adverb really.</span></div>
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<span></span> </div>
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<span>Not mentioned in the dictionary, but something that I feel and have been taught in church is that joy is a choice, at the end of the day. </span></div>
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<span></span> </div>
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<span>Not as easy as it seems. But joy is promised by being is His word and "hearing" His words. It is promised. </span></div>
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<span>I have to believe this.</span></div>
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</div>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-27565773606771445282012-04-26T21:54:00.001-05:002012-04-26T21:54:42.345-05:002nd pregnancies - no, it isn't really easier the 2nd time aroundI am so in love with baby Michael. He is seriously the most perfect little guy ever. The only time he cries is when he is hungry. Seriously. The ladies at daycare think he is a saintly little guy, and he is!<br />
<br />
And I think he had to be. My pregnancy with Daniel was hell. I'll come out and say it - we wanted more babies but Daniel but such a big strain on my body I wasn't 100% sure I could handle it. I went into premature labor with him at 31 weeks and was on partial bedrest for a month, then full bedrest until his birth because of my blood pressure. I had 3-4+ edema in my feet, a split pubic bone, and such horrible morning sickness that I lost 30 pounds during the first and second trimester.<br />
<br />
But we wanted to do it again because we aren't getting any younger. I still feel like God sprinkled fairy dust on us as I supposedly haven't ovulated since I was 23, so why not see if the dust is still there right? It was, more or less. It took 6 months to get pregnant with Michael, and I found out I was pregnant on Daniel's first birthday. I again had the ultimate morning sickness (not the vomit praise God, just the "don't let any food get near my mouth"kind") and lost weight instead of gaining. I had blood pressure problems, but didn't have to go on bedrest until about a week and a half before he was born. I was actually in labor with Michael before the c-section and starting to transition, and it wasn't that bad. When they rolled me to the ER I told James Andrew that if Daniel's labor pains had been that tolerable I wouldn't have had an epidural (not that it worked).<br />
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The hard thing about my 2nd pregnancy was this crap:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKo6EyP5uozlSRvkvWOzsWY5TS3JeWE62L7iHSsy0l94em03Pynj9cWDQRponh36lNABMcBP4rrYbbkEcY89HeoxALiPAyr_1V5eBB116eP1uslVqlY07f9epdE2UUWzlY207W9xK-dg/s1600/IMG_0525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKo6EyP5uozlSRvkvWOzsWY5TS3JeWE62L7iHSsy0l94em03Pynj9cWDQRponh36lNABMcBP4rrYbbkEcY89HeoxALiPAyr_1V5eBB116eP1uslVqlY07f9epdE2UUWzlY207W9xK-dg/s320/IMG_0525.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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And that crap:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TzS15R-YLeGVSMoNxfNwrhQaCGd9CsUduJmwbMoUjIt3SAT4wHeFdpseYCrG3kH1K3tRBmRON_nT12Jfnqd6JKhs6Q5yWNZUj3fkAmwepVFl9_idMR6hvHtkdyvX5IyV9QnFqkN7mfk/s1600/IMG_0532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TzS15R-YLeGVSMoNxfNwrhQaCGd9CsUduJmwbMoUjIt3SAT4wHeFdpseYCrG3kH1K3tRBmRON_nT12Jfnqd6JKhs6Q5yWNZUj3fkAmwepVFl9_idMR6hvHtkdyvX5IyV9QnFqkN7mfk/s320/IMG_0532.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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And who could forget this crap. I sure haven't:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvHKRdQOolMEcNSYZ8bIpHXYcE-DTBPqewJA5d0vfPBUX62bMMWur3RLLYNrcbrWsw0EMWIJbIqrN6oTtpUYlWjzc4u1ySdgcJdN54sBXRil0z5HnsA0Iy6bwDRTkBueUPT1UiwDGvGM/s1600/IMG_0524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvHKRdQOolMEcNSYZ8bIpHXYcE-DTBPqewJA5d0vfPBUX62bMMWur3RLLYNrcbrWsw0EMWIJbIqrN6oTtpUYlWjzc4u1ySdgcJdN54sBXRil0z5HnsA0Iy6bwDRTkBueUPT1UiwDGvGM/s320/IMG_0524.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br />
I go to the best OB clinic in the state and they couldn't figure out what was wrong. I didn't have PUPPP. You see, my rash only occurred while I was sleeping and would go away within about 3-4 hours of waking. And would return the second I took a nap or passed out, whichever happened first. I had no change in meds or diet. Best I can get from my own research is that I might have been getting sensitive to the pregnancy hormones. And as fast as the rash started, it stopped happening. But 2 weeks of this mess? I was about ready to flay myself.<br />
<br />
So is it easier with a 2nd, since your body "remembers"? Yes and no. I think we mentally remember and that makes things go smoother in different ways, and yes some things were easier with breast feeding and the like. But with freako rash and the postpartum depression . . . who's to say.<br />
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I can say one thing - it is soooooo worth it. Sure I had a hard year. But look what I got:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDuJIICIe50jlRmNFxewvusMmgsdTMIjdDoPEdElevzl1j5N3vK1mfHkRe16COcdtC6nkxu5W_nvyj6S87hYhWGrkprc71QLqm1P6sqizwZzm7MdbAgBgfHXPfSuvYoQZsoimZ2ZGsvc/s1600/IMG_0614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDuJIICIe50jlRmNFxewvusMmgsdTMIjdDoPEdElevzl1j5N3vK1mfHkRe16COcdtC6nkxu5W_nvyj6S87hYhWGrkprc71QLqm1P6sqizwZzm7MdbAgBgfHXPfSuvYoQZsoimZ2ZGsvc/s320/IMG_0614.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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It is so worth it. In the end, bring on the pain if I get something this special for it!Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-27568146542908529622012-04-24T22:05:00.002-05:002012-04-24T22:05:49.248-05:00Mega Gigantic Update!<h5>
Psalm 30 - New Living Translation (bold and italics added by meh)</h5>
<b>A psalm of David. A song for the dedication of the Temple.</b><br />
<br />
<sup id="en-NLT-14297">1</sup> I will exalt you, LORD, for you rescued me. <br /> You refused to let my enemies triumph over me. <br /> <strong><sup id="en-NLT-14298">2</sup> O LORD my God, I cried to you for help, <br /> and you restored my health.</strong> <br /> <sup id="en-NLT-14299">3</sup> You brought me up from the grave,<sup>[<a a?="" href="http://bibleresources.bible.com/passagesearchresults.php?passage1=psalm+30&version1=51#fen-NLT-14299a" title="Go to">a</a>]</sup> O LORD. <br /> You kept me from falling into the pit of death. <br />
<sup id="en-NLT-14300">4</sup> Sing to the LORD, all you godly ones! <br /> Praise his holy name. <br /> <sup id="en-NLT-14301">5</sup> For his anger lasts only a moment, <br /> but his favor lasts a lifetime! <br /> <strong>Weeping may last through the night, <br /> but joy comes with the morning.</strong> <br />
<sup id="en-NLT-14302">6</sup> When I was prosperous, I said, <br /> “Nothing can stop me now!” <br /> <sup id="en-NLT-14303">7</sup> Your favor, O LORD, made me as secure as a mountain. <br /> Then you turned away from me, and I was shattered. <br />
<sup id="en-NLT-14304">8</sup> I cried out to you, O LORD. <br /> I begged the Lord for mercy, saying, <br /> <strong><sup id="en-NLT-14305">9</sup> “What will you gain if I die, <br /> if I sink into the grave? <br /> <em>Can my dust praise you? <br /> Can it tell of your faithfulness?</em> </strong> <sup id="en-NLT-14306">10</sup> Hear me, LORD, and have mercy on me. <br /> Help me, O LORD.” <br />
<strong><em><sup id="en-NLT-14307">11</sup> You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. </em> <em>You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy</em>, <br /> <sup id="en-NLT-14308">12</sup> that I might sing praises to you and not be silent. <br /> O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever! </strong><br />
(More about this later)<br />
<br />
<strong>Not the Bible:</strong><br />
So, not only am I a blogless pregnant woman, I also can't seem to blog when I'm on maternity leave with 1 in daycare and 1 at home. Oh well. Here's what's happened in the last 6+ months:<br />
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Nothing too much until . . . <br />
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Michael was born!</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Michael Gideon Mincy, weighing a whopping 9 pounds 11 ounces, and measuring 21.25 inches long came to us on Febuary 7, 2012</span></div>
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I have had hypertension my entire life, thin or fat. The only time it really acts up is when I'm pregnant, and boy does it! I was on bedrest only from January 26 until the day he was born, not the prolonged ordeal that happened with baby Daniel, praise the Lord. Oh, by the way . . .</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Baby Daniel isn't really a baby anymore, lol. 35 pounds of boy</span></div>
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Poor Michael isn't named after anyone bless his heart! Technically, I guess you could say he is named after me since I'm a Michelle, but, eh? We just liked the names.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">We are a blessed family of 4</span></div>
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I have had a very difficult time recovering from Michael's delivery. Not physically, but mentally. I have been experiencing post partum depression. I had good old regular depression after Daniel as Dad passed a week after D's birth. This is very different. I am on medication which has helped me function again - I was to the point I felt I almost couldn't muster the energy to get out the recliner to do things like change diapers. It is a daily fight for normalcy in my mind. </div>
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I am also no longer a hospice nurse. After 3 years of 48 hour call, never being caught up on charting, never feeling like I was off work, 2 difficult pregnancies, and 2 babies under 2 . . . I had to find the difference of loving what I was doing, but not loving the job. I hate not being a hospice nurse. I will go back to it one day, but this is not a job for a young mother. Well, a mother of young children as I no longer feel very young anymore I guess. I am back at the hospital I felt I grew up in, working in their very wonderful geriatric clinic. My first day in the clinic is tomorrow. </div>
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James Andrew and I are also making major life changes, the first one being weight loss. We were overweight when we got married, but after 2 kids, 2 c-sections, hospice work, and the death of my beloved daddy . . . fitness has really gotten away from us. My goal is to be the size I was when we started dating.. I am comfortable there and all my clothes fit. I don't want to be skinny because I think skinny women are really bitchy (hehe), and James Andrew likes women with a little meat on their bones lol. We are also completing more home improvement. As I got pregnant with Michael immediately after we moved to White Hall last spring we didn't get the chance to plant flowers, compost, etc. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">My sweet boys at the zoo, just 'cause they are cute!</span></div>
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I'm getting tired . . . </div>
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Back to the Psalm. I have been pondering these verses since I got home today. I looked at myself in the mirror today for the first time in a while, and I realized that postpartum depression aside, I have still been casting a huge aura of mourning around myself that has not stopped since my father died. I told someone recently that I was ready to live again and try to live in happiness and joy, but I haven't cast off my mourning clothes in a very physical as well as mental way. Easter was one of the first times I haven't worn black or some other dark color in 2 years. After dad's death I recalled "Gone with the Wind" (the book) and Scarlett's thoughts after Bonnie died, that she could layer on the black upon black. It's a way to hide. As hard as this will be, I am shedding the black. Lazarus was called by Christ to shed his mourning clothes, and I feel it is time for me to do this as well.My goal and one of the new purposes of my blogging is to show a representation that I am trusting God's word that he will restore my joy. Depression and loss has robbed me of so much of the joy I should have been feeling over the last 2 years. My dad would be pissed. </div>
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Time for bed. My sweet boys are long alseep, and the hubs is floating in that direction too. Time for me to follow.</div>
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</div>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-59590193939823894902011-12-13T21:25:00.000-06:002011-12-13T21:25:01.177-06:00I just can't seem to blog anymore, or My life as a pregnant hermitIt's almost Christmas, and I can't believe this pregnancy has gone by so fast. I thought I was pregnant with Daniel f-o-r-e-v-e-r!!! It seems like it was just Daniel's first birthday, with me grinning like a loon in the bathroom with my positive pregnancy test blinking in my hands. Only 67 more days to go.<br />
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I'm having another c-section. THANK YOU JESUS. I never ever want to go through labor again. I thought I was one tough chick until I felt back labor with half an epidural working. It hurt so bad all I wanted was my Granny holding my hand. Thank goodness for my amazing mother in law who had all 4 babies with lamaze, who helped me breath through it until it was apparent I couldn't birth no babies the old fashioned way. I'm a poor candidate for a VBAC, so it's another slice and stitch job for this girl. But, I'm still tough. As I told my boss recently, I'm the dummy who took a shower 12 hours after my c-section and walked to the NICU because it took the CNAs too long to get me a wheelchair. I do believe it created a better outcome in the end, and that's what the world is about, right (haha)? The bad part about it is I won't be able to swing Daniel around for a little while. <br />
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I just can't seem to get out of the house much or muster up the energy to do much other than housework and catching up on paperwork for work. This pregancy has been easier than Daniel's so far, but I still can't seem to eat enough to gain a "normal" amount of weight. I just can't seem to remember to eat like a pregnant woman should. And when you have a toddler, you eat as weird as they do. For dinner I find myself being full after eating the peels from the apples or whatever I peel for Daniel to eat and a few bites of cheese I steal off his plate (while he laughs about it). Healthy yes, but not enough to really feed my system I guess. At least I'm not losing weight anymore. That tends to irritate the docs no matter what size you are.<br />
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I just feel like a hermit most of the time. I don't want to be bothered, just want to be in my cocoon of safety and don't make me get out of it, thank you very much. And, for heaven's sake, no drama, no drama, no drama. I can't stand much drama anyways on a normal not pregnant day, but my little nerves are so frazzled with pregnancy hormones that I can't take ANY. It wears my stuff out and makes me just want to go to bed and stay there. Which is probably why I sleep so much after work lol. <br />
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Speaking of sleep . . .Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-35675968715078627532011-10-23T04:48:00.000-05:002011-10-23T04:48:45.939-05:00Finally a post! We are alive!Well, after 6 months in the new house we finally have Internet, and I finally have the mindset to post again. With new paint, new furniture (and more to come), and a new baby on the way, things have been a little fruity in the Mincy house to say the least. <br />
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When I find the cord that links the camera to the computer, I will post picture of the home changes. Who knows where it is! We sure don't!<br />
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We found out we were having another baby on Daniel's first birthday in June. I had my suspicions for about a week as I backed into a tree and the mailbox. We had been trying (not trying again, as some people have asked, as Daniel was not only a surprise, but a shock) since after Christmas. We both want a big family and neither of us really want to be chasing a toddler at 40 (which will come much faster for James Andrew than I, haha!), so about 16 months or so between seems reasonable. Though, some days I wonder, as Daniel is a very active little-big guy. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7XqHAW7qoF8juA_8wTkeO7GYPGhL3PyEifHj-zLk-64-tEgKSCImX3BV6HULgN_Udp7BlcAqLeyRSfZRYss2VSnpi8pxzeCg_np_aXvuzFc-Dq7ghVk1ngREbV3qMsuGU7KIUp890j2I/s1600/IMG_0430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7XqHAW7qoF8juA_8wTkeO7GYPGhL3PyEifHj-zLk-64-tEgKSCImX3BV6HULgN_Udp7BlcAqLeyRSfZRYss2VSnpi8pxzeCg_np_aXvuzFc-Dq7ghVk1ngREbV3qMsuGU7KIUp890j2I/s320/IMG_0430.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What happened to my little guy? Did he have to grow?</td></tr>
</tbody></table> More to come soon. Surely our camera cord will walk into the house with all it's other friends we lost or misplaced during moving!Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-27933146089428816722011-05-16T06:37:00.000-05:002011-05-16T06:37:47.367-05:00We bought a house! Or, the reason I had a breakdown this year!We bought our first home. It's in White Hall, within a block of both of my brother in law's families and my parents in law. Pictures to come! We move this weekend. The before and after will be amazing - we had to paint over a flower mural and a red black and gold painted bedromm (blech!)!Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-3463892525421145642011-05-03T21:46:00.000-05:002011-05-03T21:46:29.234-05:00Me, the hubs, and the hospital (subtitle - the story of Dan's birth)I have a friend couple from college who (from their facebook posts) seem like they are going through the same birth and after story that me and the hubs went through when Baby Dan was born. I haven't really talked about this experience much in the past 11 months other than to say it was one of the best and worst weeks of my life. Since it helps to know what others go through, as I have found over the past year, I will share what we went through.<br />
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Dan was born on June 12, 2010. To tell this story correctly, we really need to backtrack to April 27, 2010. That was the the scariest day of my life, also known as the day I went into preterm labor at 31 weeks. <br />
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You see, I used to be an NICU nurse. That's neonatal intensive care, folks. There is a lot of superstition in nursing, especially in the NICU. We all kinda believe that there is a curse on NICU nurses that means that their babies would be in the unit at some point. When I miraculously became pregnant, I thought maybe the curse would pass me by. I was wrong.<br />
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In hindsight I'd been having contractions since my birthday that I thought were strong Braxton Hicks. That Tuesday, I just knew something was wrong. When I was havign 6+ contractions an hour I called the Angels hotline at UAMS and was instructed to go in and get checked. I was having regular contractions that were getting stronger. Within my first hour of being there I went from "high and closed" to "fingertip" dilated - which I know is not a big change, but all I could think of in my mind was "how many times did I hear 'she's only fingertip' when I was first admit in ICN". <br />
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After 3 liters of saline and several doses of sedation, my contractions stopped to the doc's satisfaction (also known as I couldn't feel them anymore and nothing was changing) and I was able to go home after midnight. However, I had to go on partial bedrest until I gave birth. I could only work 4 hours a day for a month, then I was strongly advised not to work until Daniel was born. By then I had +3-4 pitting edema in my feet and didn't feel like working anyways. 2 weeks with nothing to do passed pretty slowly.<br />
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At my last OB appointment on Friday before Dan's birth (which was the next day), I started spilling protein into my urine. With my moderately high blood pressure and the fact that I was having contractions again the OB (who was filling in for my regular OB as she was out of town) advised me to be induced, as I was showing signs of pre-eclapsia. We arrived at the hospital around 2:00, and by midnight I was epiduraled, pitocin was hung, and I was contracting regularly. However, during the night Daniel began having variable decels, which are normally nothing to worry about. The only problem is we could never get my pit turned high enough to produce good and strong contractions enough for me to progress, because it made the decels worse. On top of this, my epidural only worked on the right side of my body, so I was feeling every contraction. <br />
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By 11:00 the next day I was only dilated to 7 and had pretty much stalled out. My contractions were so severe that my mother in law and husband had to literally get in my face to make me breathe. I missed my birthing classes due to being on bedrest, and I was clueless, as teaching something to others doesn't mean that you can do things for yourself! <br />
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The docs decided that I needed to have a c-sections, which freaked me out completely. All I could think was "Great, I'm obese and I'll never heal right, and great, c-sections forever as I'm not a fan of v-bacs, and what if the baby has to go to the NICU?" <br />
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I cried for a good hour. After my epidural was finally fixed and working, I was wheeled to the surgical suite. Dan was born. The nurse had taken off my glasses at some point, so I couldn't see very well. I remember seeing a blue blob being taken to the table, and total silence in the room. I looked at my anethesiologist and asked him why Daniel wasn't crying. The neonatologist told me the Daniel's cord was wrapped around his neck 3 times. I heard the docs slapping his feet and the hiss of oxygen. The words "1 minute Apgar is 3". Finally, a baby's cry. Then he was gone while I was being sown up. <br />
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When I got to the recovery room my family was there. My Dad and husband were so proud. So was I, because he was so beautiful and perfect. My heart literally stopped in my chest the first time I touched him. But Daniel was grunting a little. When he did skin to skin time with me it went away. Then there was news that his first sugar was low, and the I:T ratio on his CBC had shifted, so off to the NICU he went, luckily with some old friends of mine. <br />
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I had to spend the next 12 hours in my room since I was post surgery. I didn't sleep, I watched the clock and when it was 4:00am the nurses took my IV out and I took a shower and went to the NICU to see him. He had a UVC for antibiotics. I got to hold him and nurse him, which was incredible. The docs said that they needed to do antibiotics for 3 days at least since his CBC was a little funky. All was okay for the time being.<br />
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Over the next 5 days I started to lose it a little. I wanted no visitors. I went to the NICU like clockwork to breastfeed, and therefore got almost no sleep. When it took the CNAs too long to get the wheelchair for my poor, sore body, I started walking there myself though the pain was terrible. I cried all the time, and almost came to blows with a doctor who was a friend of mine when Daniel became jaundiced and needed a bili light. I became the mother I dreaded as an RN. I became the guilty mom with what I used to call NICU psychosis. It's what happen when you don't sleep, you spend all your time feeling guilty, and you won't leave the hospital. It's what happens when you convince yourself that this is your fault, and that you are a failure as a mother. This is the way I felt.<br />
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All I can say is, thank God for my poor husband. He kept me form totally dropping my basket. Thank God for my sweet father, who (the last time I saw him before he died) came to the hospital and held Daniel and assured me that I would be okay.<br />
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We survived it, and we took our baby home, only a few days later than most parents do. And our first day or 2 at home as a family was amazing . . . until the word came that my father died on a business trip. <br />
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But that is a story I may never write down.<br />
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My practice, the way I think about my families, and the way that I think about my career changed during my experience with Daniel in the hospital. They say being a mom changes you. Being a mom in crisis changed me as a nurse, too. I listen more, judge less, and take it for what it is. It makes you think about the whole person and family, not just the patient in front of you. Maybe that's maturity, as I'm not 21 anymore. But maybe it's that growing pain, too.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4h5Jz31HMBmLeLmQSL6ttRww0ayxeuwwtIO9k6L9kS0QWEDcIdYVZhyRpU8jY1UYbvKPVHngCLgKDxbviKt9yfRXw54kB14UXrfjsbLgxUIcsaE8YU65ahLnumvfA-qlIoL0ZriGang/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4h5Jz31HMBmLeLmQSL6ttRww0ayxeuwwtIO9k6L9kS0QWEDcIdYVZhyRpU8jY1UYbvKPVHngCLgKDxbviKt9yfRXw54kB14UXrfjsbLgxUIcsaE8YU65ahLnumvfA-qlIoL0ZriGang/s320/012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daniel in the NICU. I took the picture while I was holding him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-20605470872259588372011-03-31T19:22:00.000-05:002011-03-31T19:22:16.770-05:00Fat girl bloggingAs I have had NO INTEREST in losing the rest of my baby weight, yet, I'm still indulging in a little fat girl eating for a while, as long as I do not gain any weight. I think about losing the weight, and then I go to work, and then I head back home, and all I want to do is eat the comfort food. It's one of the bad things about hospice - we all gain weight on the road. No one can talk about or encounter death all day without eating a BIG slice of chocolate cake when you get home. It's just not possible, I don't think.<br />
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Having said all that, I have found a most excellent blog: <a href="http://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com/">http://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com/</a><br />
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She has all my favorite fat girl recipes and I'm loving this blog, even if she did rip off the title from Jeffrey Steingarten.Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-50563125868313891952011-03-30T22:10:00.000-05:002011-03-30T22:10:32.241-05:00Kelly Clarkson - Because of you - Live<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yCuGqIhUaJE?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-1445952962461095112011-03-27T13:32:00.000-05:002011-03-27T13:32:30.198-05:00I love you, boy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXisGtQSjlATHjRm1EBYEpOeUvoOG_hnBETaFER5EIz_Om3e8YsGCocfrMuf4NakEy3eYArH843qguvjPo09lochcrwSCb3ziIIXtj06ig2Uxd7a1wpF81gdG3LtAgSeeZMWKdZB790FE/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXisGtQSjlATHjRm1EBYEpOeUvoOG_hnBETaFER5EIz_Om3e8YsGCocfrMuf4NakEy3eYArH843qguvjPo09lochcrwSCb3ziIIXtj06ig2Uxd7a1wpF81gdG3LtAgSeeZMWKdZB790FE/s320/002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-27234181377168501212011-03-26T20:53:00.000-05:002011-03-26T20:53:59.496-05:00"Ready to go"My Grandfather is back in the hospital. He has been sick on and off since Christmas. I went to see him today, and during the conversation he looked at me and said:<br />
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"Kara, I'm ready to go." <br />
I said back, "I'll take you back to your room." <br />
He said, "No, I've got a plot between here and Jacksonville, and I'm ready to go."<br />
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He was talking about being okay with dying and with being tired of living, to me, his youngest (and most partial to) "grandbaby". Part of me was glad to have the conversation, because it confirmed to me that he is a Christian and that he knows he is going to heaven. And I'm sure he wanted to tell me because he knows I'm a hospice nurse, and because of that I'd listen. Which I did.<br />
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But, of course in the midst of this I had to make a joke because it was just getting too serious. At one point I looked at him and said, "Well, you'll be right by Dad and his parents, so I'll be by to see you often". He did laugh at that.<br />
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On the way home, I realized that this wasn't true, now. I haven't been to my dad's grave since the graveside service. That was almost 10 months ago. I mean to go, and sometimes I intend to. And then I don't. I get these grand plans of taking a picture of Daniel out there to the grave, or a can of his love-ed Grapette soda. And then I don't. Seeing his body at visitation made it real, made me realize it wasn't all a mistake. But visiting his grave . . . that makes it real in another way I guess, in a way I'm not ready to deal with. I miss my father every day - there's not day that goes by that I don't think about him. I don't know why I can't go to his grave. I know I will, one day. I'll probably need my sister and step-mother with me for support. I will go.<br />
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I'm not ready to go though.Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-36472842066466137312011-03-21T19:59:00.001-05:002011-03-21T20:59:53.046-05:00Plum . . . rocks!I SOOOO love these products. I'd tried the baby food when I first started Dan on solids and was impressed. I am even more impressed now because of this concept.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMjfS16TQn3HOJipbZMZqlwB5LeFDb8OrUl28-MjNwLWF21qEojEzFxGH4pVxx3hOHpfZxh_WiFe8w_I3pma7jUQedeCgdn5QA20_F1Wqld4wVUpA2pwZZLvGvB1odjIA-Zd3rXwr9FM/s1600/plum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMjfS16TQn3HOJipbZMZqlwB5LeFDb8OrUl28-MjNwLWF21qEojEzFxGH4pVxx3hOHpfZxh_WiFe8w_I3pma7jUQedeCgdn5QA20_F1Wqld4wVUpA2pwZZLvGvB1odjIA-Zd3rXwr9FM/s320/plum.jpg" width="230" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the hardest things about feeding Daniel is that he wants to investigate anything and everything on his highchair tray. And it all goes in his mouth. Or all over his hands. Or in his hair. Or on me for that matter. There are spoons that you can load baby food into to make it more hands free and simple, but that's too hard. I am about simple cleaning, simple putting together as sometimes I am so brain dead when I come home from work that I am doing good mixing his formula.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As Daniel is eating fruits again, he ate <a href="http://www.plumorganics.com/for_second_blends.php">Pumpkin Banana</a> tonight. It was tart, you could taste the ascorbic acid the company used to preserve the color in the banana, but not bad. <a href="http://www.plumorganics.com/for_second_blends.php">Broccoli and Apple</a> is another new favorite. They have training meals too (like a stage 3 food in Gerber), and the <a href="http://www.plumorganics.com/for_training_meals.php">Red Lentil</a> is his favorite. We are still avoiding beef and pork because of my husbands allergies, so a new protein source is good. And the little dude LOVES lentils. I love my little guy!</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-25381247379511023892011-03-16T22:09:00.000-05:002011-03-16T22:09:55.005-05:00-insert title here-I can't believe that Dan is 9 months old . . . and Dad has been dead for 9 months. I don't love that his birthday will always be marked by a much more solemn remembrance. But, that's how it rolls in my family. My Granny died on my cousin Sissy's birthday, just to name another instance of this.<br />
<br />
It's been a freaking fast year. So much has changed. If you had told me 10 years ago that I would be a married baby momma by the time I was 30 I would have flipped you the bird and called you a stupid idiot. Well, looks like I'm the stupid idiot. Everything I've ever wanted I have. I have a wonderful husband who fits me like God cast our molds together. I have a wonderful sweet amazing son. I have a rewarding job. I have a wonderful family that loves me for me, even with my many warts.<br />
<br />
God is so GOOD! I don't deserve any of this, which is the beauty of how he works. Thank you Lord!Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-80734046015381469422011-02-25T18:59:00.000-06:002011-02-25T18:59:33.376-06:00An Ode to Comfort . . . Southern Coconut CakeA true southern coconut cake is not something that has 4 layers and fillings. It is a sweet concoction found in the back of an icebox, just waiting to be cut. Usually, it is in a spare casserole dish that is not at the home of a sick friend. It's covered easily with Saran Wrap, maybe with one corner up from sneaky hands slipping in to even up a corner. There is Eagle Brand Milk oozing out of these corners, and Cool Whip lazing on the top. It is sex on a plate. This is a recipe for such a cake.<br />
<br />
1) 1 Box Coconut Cake Mix<br />
2) 4 eggs<br />
3) 1 cup milk<br />
4) 1 cup oil<br />
5) 1 can Eagle Brand Milk<br />
6) 1 cup cream of coconut<br />
7) 1 carton of Cool Whip<br />
8) Toasted Coconut for Sprinkling<br />
<br />
Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Mix Ingredients 1-4. Dump into a greased casserole dish, bake for 35 minutes. Mix ingredients 5 and 6 while the cake is baking. When cake is done, poke holes in the hot cake and pour the milks on. Let it cool. Cover with Cool Whip, chill in the fridge overnight. Sprinkle on coconut before serving.Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-24482899950123479012011-02-19T10:29:00.000-06:002011-02-19T10:29:40.317-06:00Dan's new tub<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_WNv9zBIt_L4M6e8bsLxmFXdpwEOqxEI5bbXkp1gihqfNpFh11TF01R1i7aTBsLfgLNkyeTlHHjCKm9PJ8Jf52bP0LUEcdLMpJmlvVMRrbyKGu3Exrc-LjOdnHSsvlQ6aob-r-39xFiU/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_WNv9zBIt_L4M6e8bsLxmFXdpwEOqxEI5bbXkp1gihqfNpFh11TF01R1i7aTBsLfgLNkyeTlHHjCKm9PJ8Jf52bP0LUEcdLMpJmlvVMRrbyKGu3Exrc-LjOdnHSsvlQ6aob-r-39xFiU/s320/012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's so cute I can't stand it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span id="goog_1476953527"></span><span id="goog_1476953528"></span>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-6611259525356914982011-02-19T10:26:00.002-06:002011-02-19T10:26:39.288-06:00My Hub's Black Bean and Corn SaladThis is one of my favorite salads in the world, and it only has 3 ingredients.<br />
<br />
1 cup corn<br />
1 cup black beans<br />
Italian dressing to mix<br />
<br />
Mix. Chill. Eat. Good!<br />
<br />
I like mine with a little extra salt and a squirt of lime juice . . .Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-26742116650167944142011-02-15T19:46:00.000-06:002011-02-15T19:46:49.780-06:00My Valentines!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOu0450YKIujhAk1WEKbRydHJ6OeMAHQCV8iwP_Ys8U9LHUfzf_nX-tOyhMoRrC_jg6iPdUufOifjwYdeTeFlycQflU-DV-7NvDpFfeHA0Uh0rIAhAn5Uf18_Fa_ATlr-ZJJ6fBhAgNs/s1600/025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOu0450YKIujhAk1WEKbRydHJ6OeMAHQCV8iwP_Ys8U9LHUfzf_nX-tOyhMoRrC_jg6iPdUufOifjwYdeTeFlycQflU-DV-7NvDpFfeHA0Uh0rIAhAn5Uf18_Fa_ATlr-ZJJ6fBhAgNs/s320/025.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">They are so impressed with me and the camera.</div>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-61635996402764453592011-02-13T15:08:00.000-06:002011-02-13T15:08:44.928-06:00I love this woman's products.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" h5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn6-P6DHlwwzJFshv2VZWAy7k0mIn9ypT31JoNt9y1odR8GKg-_Lnf1RInsdzrHtYJyv735SJqmTIWNGYLRXZUI1qnUg3lA0_djZ1UU-F6fNUnFxaNSywpNRhDuKgvNs0l1YMY6n38v18/s1600/ak_theme_logo.gif" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.annabelkarmel.com/">She Rocks</a></div><br />
I bought her foodmill, food smasher, and steamer at Babies R Us a few months ago when I still had these vivid dream of making my own baby food. <br />
<br />
Yeah. That happened.<br />
<br />
But, I do taste everything that goes into Dan's mouth. If I don't like it, or it makes me gag, it's in the trash. I made 2 roasts for lunch today, roast beef and chicken, and I decided to break out these products so that he could eat what we did. Easy Peesey Lemon Squeezey to get everything smashed up. Nice consistency, and no big scary chunks hiding out in the mix. And everything is easy to clean and dishwasher safe anyways, yea for busy mom (me).<br />
<br />
I've found that Dan is not big on things with a strong flavor, so we did have to mix the chicken and veg with rice cereal. He loved it, and I like that he's eating what he do, with no preservatives or weird stuff in there. I may keep at this. I'm not making my own purees, and I doubt I'll go all <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Deceptively-Delicious-Simple-Secrets-Eating/dp/006176793X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1297631223&sr=8-1">Jessica Seinfield</a> in the house, but I can do this.Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-24946447641339284042011-02-13T12:51:00.002-06:002011-02-13T13:02:28.025-06:00Ha! I'm not dumb.<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/AVvXsEibKA5gN2-VmqZb7XvDa7-0H9_cBQkplDqJb9B1E81OnUu4J7lgXExqrWZO-VPvlK4zVPz3eeNXEjZKhU1n2q1sLu0LgDTuAzMOADB-Ab7jJZ2_jgfDls_OInfxt86n_3-wLMe-UJ8jZAI/s1600/dan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibKA5gN2-VmqZb7XvDa7-0H9_cBQkplDqJb9B1E81OnUu4J7lgXExqrWZO-VPvlK4zVPz3eeNXEjZKhU1n2q1sLu0LgDTuAzMOADB-Ab7jJZ2_jgfDls_OInfxt86n_3-wLMe-UJ8jZAI/s320/dan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-82501723980820847942011-02-12T16:06:00.000-06:002011-02-12T16:06:25.670-06:00I officially suck . . .At blogging. Have been trying for the better part of an hour to post a collage I made of Dan Dan pictures, and I can't figure it out! Is it that hard to do or do I just have a mental block against it? Or well. It's on my home computer and it looks very nice.Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-29626847877897124982011-02-12T14:43:00.000-06:002011-02-12T14:43:27.512-06:00Look ma, my first bruise!<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/AVvXsEgjY3clIr7nEbSo34tllg-0_rUV5a9GvW9bteYm0v_FtDB8nElrkPLJHWdCwPOtQdu7KqeTkf5U4AiZ_1o3p5PREDwtakZ1zoSZ5GqctKFLXZrjnnyBD9b5WPKXCl7ER0kFedm03a1fkvA/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjY3clIr7nEbSo34tllg-0_rUV5a9GvW9bteYm0v_FtDB8nElrkPLJHWdCwPOtQdu7KqeTkf5U4AiZ_1o3p5PREDwtakZ1zoSZ5GqctKFLXZrjnnyBD9b5WPKXCl7ER0kFedm03a1fkvA/s320/010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
This happened Thursday. It now looks like he has a dirty brown spot on his forehead. Please don't ever break anything. Mommy and Daddy both have excellent track records here, so please follow our example. Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-57288574680467779922011-02-06T10:29:00.000-06:002011-02-06T10:29:27.012-06:00All Things Must Pass . . .<iframe height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BrwDeeJu69I?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="480" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-37108549199606368702011-02-05T22:43:00.000-06:002011-02-05T22:43:10.592-06:00Chicken and WafflesSo, as I am in the need for a little comfort food as it is cold, and I am depressed (as per usual for this time of year) it is time for chicken and waffles, which I am making tomorrow for lunch. It will be a first for the hubs. <br />
<br />
Chicken and Waffles<br />
<br />
1. 1 recipe of your favorite waffle batter, enough for 2 (make sure there is a bit of sugar in the batter as it will help give the waffle a nice golden crust, but don't go overboard)<br />
2. 2 chicken breasts, tenderized but not pulverized with a meat tenderizer<br />
3. 1 cup AP flour, seasoned with salt, pepper, and garlic powder, on a plate<br />
4. 3 eggs, beaten with 1 tsp water, on a plate<br />
5. Oil for frying<br />
<br />
1. Have the waffle batter ready and on stand by. Make sure your waffle iron is hot.<br />
2. Pour oil in a deep frying pan, you want the oil about 1-2 inches deep. Heat to about 375 F.<br />
3. Dredge the chicken in flour and shake off excess.<br />
4. Dip in egg mix.<br />
5. Dredge again in flour.<br />
6. Start frying in the chicken, until golden brown. If the breasts are huge, they make need to finish in a 375 F oven for 10 minutes. The goal is a moist piece of chicken with a nice crust. A big thick hunk will dry out before it cooks through.<br />
7. While chicken is frying, cook the waffles according to the directions on your waffle iron.<br />
8. To serve, waffle on bottom, then syrup, chicken on top. I like a little hot sauce on the chicken, but I'm a bit of a freak.Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1645864099740708673.post-14460570151895019362011-02-04T17:10:00.000-06:002011-02-04T17:10:45.437-06:00Why?After losing my father, who was so young at 60, to a heart attack last year I thought that there was no death that could shock me more. No death ever will shock me more, I guess, but finding out that Luke died last year from brain cancer has shaken me. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYxPogHy3N60jpHUkv9PLWulyHJBnMAVbZHrXP7s2WOJZLAKywmxvk15y282ifGWsc7NVAK5TGjHiWqjtvIhC0Axy1nIRl7fwoAg5TD88Wl64GM4nEhMcmfl1TnXfU1_tibIjIVTf5a0/s1600/lukehunsicker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYxPogHy3N60jpHUkv9PLWulyHJBnMAVbZHrXP7s2WOJZLAKywmxvk15y282ifGWsc7NVAK5TGjHiWqjtvIhC0Axy1nIRl7fwoAg5TD88Wl64GM4nEhMcmfl1TnXfU1_tibIjIVTf5a0/s200/lukehunsicker.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
29 years old. One of the most talented people I think I will ever meet. <br />
<br />
I think the last time I saw him was at Old Man's Kirks, when he was playing in Saturnine or 613 Mob in high school. Or maybe in passing at Vino's in college. My memories are fleeting. I regret that. I regret that my head has been so far up my ass the past 3 years that I didn't even know that he was sick.<br />
<br />
I haven't been living my days as I should. This has shown me again that life and time are fleeting, and that true friends, and my family, are the 2 most important things in this physical world. Every day is precious. Every single day.Daniel and Michael's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00827622550923664755noreply@blogger.com0