<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072</id><updated>2011-12-21T07:22:27.651-08:00</updated><category term='Sometimes Every Day Is A Monday'/><category term='Poetry'/><category term='Calgon anyone?'/><category term='Sheer Craziness....'/><category term='The Wonderful World of Caleb'/><category term='Wonders of the World...'/><category term='Life Happens'/><category term='The Angels in my Life'/><category term='Knowledge or Hindsight?'/><category term='Just Everyday Stuff :)'/><title type='text'>Heartstrings from Heaven</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-7115505440892316578</id><published>2011-02-11T06:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T06:52:27.387-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TCDqhfu8NBA/TVVNI3eFTCI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/K5UYMx_yiCk/s1600/Jan%2B2011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TCDqhfu8NBA/TVVNI3eFTCI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/K5UYMx_yiCk/s400/Jan%2B2011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572444928665275426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Geesh&lt;/span&gt;...the past year and a half have been some crazy ones!  I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; tired of being cold, come on Texas Heat!  Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and safe and family filled New Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where to begin....?  Well, most recently, I was so happy to reunite with a brother that I haven't seen in almost twenty years :)!  He and his family, my niece and nephew and his wife and myself and my hubby and kids, along with my sister and her son(now living with us! whole other story in itself!), all had dinner last Saturday.  It was wonderful, he is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; sweet and his kids are beautiful and so sweet as well.  His wife is too funny and sweet, of course.  There is a lot of family crap that we've both endured as far as our father, whom I will refer to as "the sperm donor" from here on out.  I don't tell my story about that to too many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ppl&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Short and sweet, my father could be the perfect psychopath, he's smart in a scary way and I could see him being on one of those crime shows as a serial killer or rapist or something..scary I know!  Short and to the point, he was and is abusive, both physically, mentally and verbally.  He is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pedophile&lt;/span&gt; and a drunk, a womanizer and a habitual liar.  Woohoo, gotta love that for a dad huh? Ummm...not!  He should have been locked away years ago, and all I can say is Thank God my mom got us away from him as soon as she did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow! Enough about the "sperm donor"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy to say that the relationship with my first daughter and my grandson is still going strong.  We text and message each other via facebook quite often.  We were able to spend the day at her grandmas the first week in January.  Where we exchanged Christmas gifts and talked and ate and the kids had a blast.  I'm soooo blessed, I can only Thank God for giving me the chance to know her and her family and have the wonderful relationship we still have.  Thanks for taking the time to read this, I promise to post again soon!  If anyone still reads this blog that is!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-7115505440892316578?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/7115505440892316578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=7115505440892316578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7115505440892316578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7115505440892316578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2011/02/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TCDqhfu8NBA/TVVNI3eFTCI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/K5UYMx_yiCk/s72-c/Jan%2B2011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-8257090164177909725</id><published>2010-01-07T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T14:19:31.257-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow..it's been so long!</title><content type='html'>For those of you who read my blogs, I apologize for not blogging in so long.  I have been so wrapped up in my new job that I hardly have time to breathe :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to bring you up to date with all the latest in my life in as few words as possible.   My relationship with my first daughter and her mom are as wonderful as ever.  I am so very thankful and blessed by the fact that not every reunion is as uncomplicated and stress free as ours has been from the very beginning.  My grandson is as handsome and beautiful as ever, tons of curls and the biggest brown eyes with the longest eyelashes I have ever seen!   We were able to go and exchange Christmas gifts and spend the day on Jan 2nd.  I hadn't seen them since August, wow how time flies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second daughter is in Eighth grade this year and so our biggest dilemma now is where she's going to High School.  She's finally made up her mind for certain and her dad and I are agreeable with her decision.  The school she's chosen is better for her academically, she's thoroughly in love with acting and playing soccer...both of which programs are offered at this high school.  My middle son has had some issues, but over all he's doing great this year, awesome grades!  As for my youngest, my most rambunctious and daredevil of a son, he's as fun as ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I should give you a brief description of my new job, the one that has been keeping me far far away from my blog.  I work as a Two Yr old Mothers Day Out Lead teacher at our church.  I love it really.  Here lately I've been struggling with some new developments, but over all I love the job.  I don't just work in that program, I work Sundays, both mornings and evenings and I work whenever they need me on other occasions.  Every Wednesday evening we have WOW, Tues and Thurs is MDO(Mothers Day Out), Mondays we have Monday fun Day's, and also on Wednesdays, the first and second of the month we have MOPS. (Mothers of Pre Schoolers).  All of these,  my job is to watch the kids and or teach.  There are other nights that I work too, but that list is basically why I haven't been able to blog in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to try to get on more, but if you don't see anything for awhile then you'll know why!!!  Thanks for listening to my rambling and have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-8257090164177909725?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/8257090164177909725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=8257090164177909725' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8257090164177909725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8257090164177909725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2010/01/wowits-been-so-long.html' title='Wow..it&apos;s been so long!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-7085243011324178796</id><published>2009-08-16T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T12:36:01.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Flies...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SohfbgSFVdI/AAAAAAAAAIc/1itwdUC652o/s1600-h/DSCF1134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370647481766204882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SohfbgSFVdI/AAAAAAAAAIc/1itwdUC652o/s200/DSCF1134.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Sohfar6SuhI/AAAAAAAAAIM/0bhLnhfUp-0/s1600-h/DSCF1125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370647467707775506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Sohfar6SuhI/AAAAAAAAAIM/0bhLnhfUp-0/s200/DSCF1125.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SohfadWSBBI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LbB-FZ_3WX4/s1600-h/DSCF1150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370647463798637586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SohfadWSBBI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LbB-FZ_3WX4/s200/DSCF1150.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spent the day with my first daughter yesterday...it was awesome as always. I cannot believe how big my grandbaby is getting and wow the curls!!! I cherish every minute with them and have to give all my thanks to God for blessing me with such a wonderful relationship with my firstdaughter and her family. I try to explain how it is I feel when I am there, but for some reason the words illude me. I know that I am her first mom, but I also know I am not her mom. Nor do I intend to be. I am no longer jealous of the relationship that she and her mom have, and amazingly enough, have not had those feelings from day one of our first face to face. I really thought that I would, but I think that in my mind all I could see was that tiny little baby. Now it is REAL to me that she is no longer a baby but a grown woman and I am proud that I had some little part in that. Not in raising her, but in nurturing her while she was still apart of me and for being blessed enough to have found a wonderful family. She and her mom are so very close and it tugs at my heart...in a good way. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have made me feel welcome and like a part of thier family from day one. It has meant so much to me that they made sure that my first daughter knew about me and about her brothers and sister. I still say that having an open adoption is something I don't think I could have done, but I feel as if in a way that is what we have now. When I was young, it was still too fresh and the pain was unbearable. My feeling is that it would have been like pouring salt into an open wound. The thought of seeing "my" baby with someone else, calling someone else momma, and then having to watch them leave with her everytime would have been too much for me to bear. I have to say that I have an enormous amount of admiration for those first moms who are in open adoptions. I took lots of pics and cannot wait to share...hope everyone had a wonderful weekend and I'll try to post again soon :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-7085243011324178796?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/7085243011324178796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=7085243011324178796' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7085243011324178796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7085243011324178796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2009/08/time-flies.html' title='Time Flies...'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SohfbgSFVdI/AAAAAAAAAIc/1itwdUC652o/s72-c/DSCF1134.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-3292018163598375558</id><published>2009-08-07T12:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T13:01:55.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Made it!!!!</title><content type='html'>This week has been so much fun, but an experience I do not want to repeat...LOL.&lt;br /&gt;Our Church had it's annual week of VBS and it was a blast, but by Wed. everyone was exhausted, teachers and children alike...:(.  Last year I had so much fun, learning the songs and the dances that go with, and this year was a whole new ball game.  I was with the first graders last year, one classroom over from my oldest son.  This year we had twelve two and three year olds!!!&lt;br /&gt;Thank the Lord we had three teachers, as well as two of us had teen daughters that were too old to attend but were able to volunteer and they helped immensely.  The girls got to spend the first hour in our small chapel working on the routines for the pre k and four yr olds then they would come help us after that.  Setting up snacks and helping to keep the kids entertained by dancing for them while they ate.  It was the cutest thing ever :).  OOOHHH and the highlite of the week...drum roll plz....lol, my daughter has her first boyfriend.  He goes to the church and actually helped in our room this week.  He's really sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that this year I will be having my own class, the two yr olds, and so now I have an idea of what to expect.  The difference, however, is that this was all week and MDO is only Tues and Thurs, so we get a break in between.  Of course, the drawback to that is MDO is a six hour day as opposed to three ...ugh.  Really though, I'm thoroughly thrilled, excited and nervous, to be having my own room next year.  I'm anxious to get in and start getting my classroom ready and to see how this first year will be.  Thankfully, my friend and co worker from Wednesday nights is going to be my assisting teacher.  She's great, I love working with her and our kids have a blast together.  We are both ready to get started and I'm so happy that we both have the same ideas about what we want and don't want in our class.  It's hard to explain, but for me......being able to work with the children of fellow church goers is the most satisfying and enjoyable "job" I've ever had.  I feel blessed to have been given the opportunity to care for and get to know these children as well as develop a special relationship with thier parents.  Before, it was just the other couples I attended bible class and church with, now it's ....I don't know...just a blessing I never dreamed of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much more that I could write, but I'll keep it short for now....have a great weekend!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-3292018163598375558?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/3292018163598375558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=3292018163598375558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3292018163598375558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3292018163598375558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2009/08/made-it.html' title='Made it!!!!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-7471931455479161444</id><published>2009-07-31T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T12:41:32.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready for school....sort of</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Sohgso9gjlI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2iA9iwmPNuc/s1600-h/DSCF0464.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370648875665231442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Sohgso9gjlI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2iA9iwmPNuc/s200/DSCF0464.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SohgsBuU9HI/AAAAAAAAAIk/MW_hNbtILtc/s1600-h/DSCF0424.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370648865132573810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SohgsBuU9HI/AAAAAAAAAIk/MW_hNbtILtc/s200/DSCF0424.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot believe another summer has flown by, the year too for that matter. Katlyn will be starting 8th grade this year and Travis 2nd grade...wow! It seems like only a short while ago Katlyn was starting 6th grade and her first year in middle school and Travis his very first day of Kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though Travis went to a Pre K and that was a BIG deal for me, and him. It was not the same as his first REAL day of school. I cried the whole first week. I would drop him off and remember that it was only a few months ago my baby girl was in the very same school. Now I was taking my middle child there and my big Baby girl was going to middle school. I don't know which was worse, my daughter starting the first day of Kindergarten when she was an only child, or both of them starting a new school at the same time. What is really going to be hard is when Katlyn starts High School and my youngest starts Kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am anxious to get them back in school and out from under my feet, but at the same time I wish they'd stay little forever. I told a friend the other day that I was looking forward to my youngest starting school, but I know that will in a way seem like a finality in the sense that my babies are all growing up. Last year in Mothers Day Out at my church, I was assisting in the Pre K room, and the teacher I was helping was one of the very teachers that Katlyn had when she went there. She's 13 now...u do the math..LOL. Anyhow, they have a graduation ceremony just like schools do for the Kindergarteners, and the 5th graders when they leave for Middle School. Serveral of our kids were graduating and getting ready to move on to kindergarten. We had several practices in the small chapel the last couple of weeks and wow...I cried. I have pic on my fridge of Katlyn on the very same stage getting her little diploma, wearing her graduation cap and it just brought all that back to me. Since I am a teacher there, Caleb gets to attend for a discounted price and I am dreading the day when it's his turn to be up on that stage. I will bawl like a baby I know it already!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...guess I'm just sitting here being sad that all my "babies" are growing up and one day they'll be all grown with babies and families of thier own. Okay...going to stop there, before I really do start to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back to post again soon....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-7471931455479161444?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/7471931455479161444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=7471931455479161444' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7471931455479161444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7471931455479161444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2009/07/ready-for-schoolsort-of.html' title='Ready for school....sort of'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Sohgso9gjlI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2iA9iwmPNuc/s72-c/DSCF0464.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-608502484364789005</id><published>2009-07-22T11:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T12:13:38.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really Long time......LOL</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I don't know if anyone ever reads my blog at all anymore, but if so then thanks for listening.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;......Not much really going on with me. Life and family, like everyone else.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I did quit babysitting and am now working as much as I can at my church.  I love it, not only do I get to get out of the house and be with other adults..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hahaha&lt;/span&gt;, but I can bring my kids with me.  Of course, I can leave them at home with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; daddy too.  I started out trying to babysit when I got laid off which was nice for awhile, but soon got annoying.  Don't get me wrong, I love kids, I really do. Suppose I must since I have three right? :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I just couldn't take the parents and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wishy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;washiness&lt;/span&gt;, "how much do I owe you?", "what time do you put "?" down for a nap?"...seriously?!?  I even had a set time that the kids had to be picked up...5:30....me calling at 5:30..."you almost here?"....mom reply"I'm leaving now.."....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;AAAAAHHHH&lt;/span&gt;!!!!  Not only that, but drop the kid off at no later than 9 am and pick up at 5:30 or later and only send maybe some fruit chews and a can of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;spaghettios&lt;/span&gt; and not one thing to snack on for later.  I only charged 20 a day....no set amount during the week.  Hell, there were days when the kid had no change of clothes...no diapers or wipes and occasionally nothing at all to eat in her bag.  Not to mention bringing her over when it's maybe 50 degrees outside in a light jacket and sandals? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Geesh&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;...enough about that.  I started working at my church Wednesday nights, watching kids for the parents with choir and other things going on and then they asked me if I could work in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;MDO&lt;/span&gt;(mothers day out), in the preschool class.  I jumped on it.  I am now going to be a lead teacher in the 2 year old room next year and am working every other Sunday Morning as well as an occasional Sunday evening.  I get to work with children which I love and be around other great people and still get to be there for my kids...could I ask for anything better?  NO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;It's a win win for me...work but not work and that's hard to find.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;I worked the music camp with my daughter and my friend and it was a blast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt; I am looking forward to seeing my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;firstdaughter&lt;/span&gt; and my grandson at least once this summer before school starts back up..haven't seen them since Jan 1st, and I know that little boy is getting so big.  Hit a milestone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;bday&lt;/span&gt; this year...the big 40! Ugh....then to top it off my daughter turned 13....wow how time flies.  I was lucky enough to go to the Jonas Brothers Concert with my daughter who was thoroughly ticked that I got a better seat than her.  Her best friend and her won tickets and so I had intended to wait in a tent outside with all the other parents.  About ten minutes after I had gotten in and started reading my book, a woman came in and offered me a free ticket...wow!  It was fun, but a little awkward being a grown woman with no teenage or younger child sitting next to me...I felt like a pervert..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;!  Even though I knew that my daughter was there, no one else did!  Anyhow, I love that I was there for my daughters first REAL concert.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Well. I'm sure there is so much more I've left out and I am sorry that it's been so long.  Hope everyone is having a wonderful year and summer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Much Love and God Bless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-608502484364789005?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/608502484364789005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=608502484364789005' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/608502484364789005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/608502484364789005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2009/07/really-long-timelol.html' title='Really Long time......LOL'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-3278484468473118756</id><published>2009-01-12T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T07:45:21.109-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life Happens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sometimes Every Day Is A Monday'/><title type='text'>Happy 2009 Ya'll!</title><content type='html'>Wow...another year has flown by.  This year has already been plagued by both good and bad luck...no surprise there..lol.&lt;br /&gt;I was lucky enough to go and spend the day with my first daughter and my grandson, her mom and family.  We had a blast, myself, Katlyn and Caleb.  Ate, and ate and ate, played uno and just talked until the time had flown by. :(  Then that is where MY luck went south, trying to get the car loaded and ready to go so that I didn't have to worry about anything more than coat, purse and children, I miscalculated the steps and down I went.  I heard a very loud pop and prayed that it wasn't me...and that I would be able get up.  I did get up, and at first, other than feeling a little tender and throbbing, I was walking fairly normally.  Of course I went back inside and sat down only to feel intense pain when I got back up to leave.  UGH!  I had to drive for two hours with a sprained ankle on New Years Day...Happy New Year to me lol.  I have had a few jammed fingers and a badly sprained toe before, but this was new to me and damn it hurt :(.  Of course the one thing that was stressed, STAY OFF IT!, was nearly impossible.  My hubby had to work the next day and heaven forbid I ask my daughter to do anything...get the typical eye roll and sigh and then I'm irritated and do it myself anyway.  Then for the weekend anytime I asked my husband for anything, it was like pulling teeth, like father, like daughter..GRRRR.&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, it's been fairly smooth sailing, if you don't include the 494.00 violation I got from the Toll Tag office for a car we no longer own.  We sold my car in August and just six days after the sale, he went through the toll tag and didn't pay and then for most of December and the first couple of days in Jan too.  Enough times to rack up a 500 dollar fine.  I could not find the bill of sale and freaked, so I backtracked and found his name and number from an old phone bill.  I called him and confronted him about it, to which he seemed genuinely shocked.  Bullcrap!  He told me that he had already changed the registration..Lie!  I called DPS and they confirmed my suspicions and so I had to fill out and mail in a Transfer of Vehicle Notification...blah, blah, blah.&lt;br /&gt;It was not only important I do this to get out of his fine, but when the registration expires at the end of this month, he HAS to switch it to his name....woohoo!&lt;br /&gt;Two more things to ring in the new year, a code violation from the city to scrape and paint our house...YIKES...I guess that's pretty bad huh?  Next but not least, the person I babysit for wants to renig on what we discussed at the beginning of the school year.  I am going to do a lot of praying for a better year ahead... and hope ya'll have a great one too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-3278484468473118756?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/3278484468473118756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=3278484468473118756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3278484468473118756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3278484468473118756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-2009-yall.html' title='Happy 2009 Ya&apos;ll!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-9014863753464278075</id><published>2008-12-20T07:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T08:21:29.684-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Just Everyday Stuff :)'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0ZqonabVI/AAAAAAAAAHM/PIV7tH6RZ24/s1600-h/mommas+lil+boy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281906158223387986" style="WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0ZqonabVI/AAAAAAAAAHM/PIV7tH6RZ24/s320/mommas+lil+boy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0ZqUZfguI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XR5vuAuzzVU/s1600-h/smile+for+daddy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281906152796291810" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0ZqUZfguI/AAAAAAAAAHE/XR5vuAuzzVU/s320/smile+for+daddy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0ZqU_g9TI/AAAAAAAAAG8/KjCEgoXkLK0/s1600-h/The+Blanket.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281906152955770162" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0ZqU_g9TI/AAAAAAAAAG8/KjCEgoXkLK0/s320/The+Blanket.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0aaDMNvJI/AAAAAAAAAHU/9LA5GroywIU/s1600-h/bigauntkatlyn_landen.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281906972810919058" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0aaDMNvJI/AAAAAAAAAHU/9LA5GroywIU/s320/bigauntkatlyn_landen.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0aaeF2RKI/AAAAAAAAAHc/tIcAGZu9nwg/s1600-h/bathtime.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281906980031972514" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0aaeF2RKI/AAAAAAAAAHc/tIcAGZu9nwg/s320/bathtime.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0Zp6vLBFI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Sgl3NP3HLHc/s1600-h/snuggled.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281906145907901522" style="WIDTH: 322px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 285px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0Zp6vLBFI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Sgl3NP3HLHc/s320/snuggled.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow...it's hard to believe the end of the year has arrived. Seems like just a few weeks ago my kids were going to their first day of school. Where does the time go???? I know I am no different from most other moms, some days I can't wait for my kids to get a little older and other days I just want to cry because they are growing up too fast!! :( &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not much new going on in my life, which is a good thing..LOLL. We had a wonderful Thanksgiving, lots of family over at my house. My brother finally introduced us to his new girlfriend. That was really a big deal...seeing that my brother has never been married and has no children, and he's already past 45. She blended in well with our family, she seems to be a really sweet person and someone I could do things with like you do with your sisters. We've been emailing back and forth and she's basically just amazed that no one else had snatched up my brother before now. He is a die hard romantic and believes in going all out when it comes to the women he dates. He's always been that way, even in his twenties, when he was living with us. I'd see him taking his girlfriends out to fancy restaurants and renting nice cars so they wouldn't have to ride in his gigantic four by four ...hahaha. One time he was going to take his girlfriend to Hawaii....that didn't pan out though and he took our mom instead. How many guys do you know that would take their mom to Hawaii for a week???? Not many!!! It was just sad that every girl my brother dated only cared about what he could do for them..the money he could spend on them and when they decided he wasn't spending what they thought was enough they just screwed him around. Anyhow, she's moving in with him this weekend and I cannot wait to see where it goes after she gets moved in :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On another note, I just sent off the Christmas gifts for my first daughter and my grandson. I finally finished the blanket I was crocheting..LOL. It was suppose to be a birthday present back in April...oops! Anyhow, it turned out great...if I do say so myself. They should get them by Tuesday. I sent her a package full of things for the baby a few weeks ago, things that belonged to my baby boys. Most of it was Pooh since that is her theme. I sent one of those No Jo or whatever you call em, sling carriers. It's not like the regular carrier, it cradles the baby when they are newborn(great for nursing!) and then when they get older, up into toddler years even, you can still carry them in it. Came with a tape, but who has a VHS player anymore :)?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She did say I can now post pics of her and my grandson so here goes!!! Hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-9014863753464278075?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/9014863753464278075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=9014863753464278075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/9014863753464278075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/9014863753464278075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!!!!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SU0ZqonabVI/AAAAAAAAAHM/PIV7tH6RZ24/s72-c/mommas+lil+boy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-1843518911438169180</id><published>2008-11-10T07:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T07:58:38.145-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wonders of the World...'/><title type='text'>Been a little while....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SRhZyg3sgmI/AAAAAAAAAF8/lfE0yZE9qBA/s1600-h/Robyn+and+her+Mom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267058488561664610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SRhZyg3sgmI/AAAAAAAAAF8/lfE0yZE9qBA/s320/Robyn+and+her+Mom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SRhZrdionDI/AAAAAAAAAF0/TGdFHJy7Ubs/s1600-h/My+Girls.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267058367408938034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SRhZrdionDI/AAAAAAAAAF0/TGdFHJy7Ubs/s320/My+Girls.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just wanted to pop in and say hello to everyone who's been reading my blog. Funny, I never thought anyone would be interested in knowing about my life or the things that I think about. It's a nice feeling though, and it is such a therapeutic feeling to get my thoughts and feelings out there, basically expose myself to the scrutiny of others. Not much going on recently, soccer season is over...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;WOOOHOOO&lt;/span&gt;!!! This weekend past was the tournament, our girls played three games in one day :(, lost every one....they went into it with a good attitude though. This is the first season all these girls have played together as a team, the majority of the girls were together on a prior team, and a couple were new to the sport or have played before, but with other teams. They tied two games this year, won one by default and lost the rest, but all in all, they played really well their first season. Sounds ironic, but it's true. We had one girl injured in the third or fourth game, actually stopped the game and she had to be rushed to the emergency room. It was heartbreaking to hear her screaming and crying in agony...and it really angered me to hear the girls laughing from the opposing team, especially the one who injured our player. I just don't understand what values some parents are teaching their kids now a days. Our girl will always have to wear a knee support and will always have a loose tendon and knee cap because of it, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;grrrrrr&lt;/span&gt;. The coach actually had the gonads to come over and apologise, he didn't mean any of what he said of course, but whatever. Made him feel better I'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter and much more exciting note, my friend is home from the hospital. Long story short, it's a miracle. Her son sent an email back in September, and she had been in since September first. She was in ICU, hooked up to all kinds of machines and her liver was failing and their were so many other problems. When I first spoke with him, they were basically going to decide the following Monday what to do....it was really looking as if she were going to pass away any moment. Prayers help and this is one example. I went to see her that first day and she hardly even spoke...or when she did you couldn't understand her...she basically was in like a vegetative state. Her mom came in from Ohio and I tell you, it was scary....she looked older than her mom. Her mom had a stroke a few years back and she looked so healthy compared to my friend. Then the following weekend, she was alert and trying harder to talk and be understood, she even tried to get out of bed. She couldn't of course. The following week, they moved her from ICU into another room, not a regular one, but in between ICU and a normal room. Then a couple of weeks later she went into a nursing home.....Saturday I get a call...it was her!!! She is home...God works in amazing and wonderful ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on yet another note, just a little irony. I have been trying to get rid of my kids clothes and toys and a few other odds and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;in's&lt;/span&gt; on Craig's list and through yard sales. I have sold quite a few of my daughters clothes through Craig's list, and now I am in the process of selling her old changing table. I called the woman who intends to purchase it, and she began telling me how she home schooled her children. She said that she'd adopted two or three I can't remember which, from China and a couple through fostering. Now they are in the process of adopting a baby from one of the girls they had adopted through fostering...as she was too young to parent. The point of my short story is this....I never realised how many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bmoms&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;adoptees&lt;/span&gt; and adoptive parents there were out there until I started looking for and found my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;firstdaughter&lt;/span&gt;. Lately there is always something, either on the news, on a show I watch or a movie I see.... Even more so, I found out that my sons kinder teacher was adopted, as was the other kinder teacher..my daughters second grade teacher was trying to adopt from China...there was an adoptive mom talking to the secretary one day in the office. Now, I am getting ready to sell one of my belongings to an adoptive mom. I don't know...just kinda crazy..thought I'd share :). Hope &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ya'll&lt;/span&gt; have a great Thanksgiving and if I don't get back here before Christmas, have a safe and happy Christmas as well!!!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS...I'm adding a pic of my firstdaughter and her mom and a pic of my two girls together for the first time...don't they look alike??!!!  I will add pics of my grandson eventually...I'm still waiting for his mommy to post pics first..I made her a promise and I must abide.  :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-1843518911438169180?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/1843518911438169180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=1843518911438169180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1843518911438169180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1843518911438169180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/11/been-little-while.html' title='Been a little while....'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SRhZyg3sgmI/AAAAAAAAAF8/lfE0yZE9qBA/s72-c/Robyn+and+her+Mom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-7255130573046785355</id><published>2008-10-21T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T15:01:08.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What are Parents teaching kids these days???!!!</title><content type='html'>I am shocked and appalled everyday by the way kids behave, not only with other kids, but with adults. The lack of respect and the downright belligerent way they speak to other adults is really dis heartening. My daughter is in middle school now and she hates the kids that go there, well most of them, that is. She always tells me stories of how the whole class is punished because of the kids that are constantly causing disruptions in the class. This year she is in Theatre Arts and she tried to sell tickets for a show they were putting on, and many responses she got were..."I'm not gonna buy tickets from a white girl...". I mean...WTF????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we have the kids that are constantly walking past my house cursing and acting like a bunch of wild buffoons. They walk in front of and behind my house and I don't even want to let my kids out(the littlest especially), because of the things that come out of these kids mouths. I know that I was no angel when I was a teen mind you. But I knew that if I disrespected another adult, there would be "hell to pay". My mother would make me regret my actions and I can tell you in all honesty, the other kids on my street knew my mom meant business as well. Not one of them spoke to my mom without a "Yes Ma'am...No Ma'am" in the sentence somewhere. When my mom meant business, no one was immune to her wrath.   She never hit any of my friends...LOL...but she just had that tone and that look that made you scared to death of what she might do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm not going to say I'm in favor of beating kids, but I am not against a few swats on the behind when they need it. I got plenty when I was growing up and I'm not "damaged" because of it...if anything, I think it did me allot of good. I believe that kids need that now a days... more than ever!!! This "time out" and "disciplining with love and logic", just doesn't cut it with some kids. Yes, it might work for a few, but there are those that need a red bottom or if my mom had her way...a good slap upside their foul mouths every now and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter plays soccer and it's still shocking to me when I hear what parents yell to the kids that are playing. Some examples are..."see we didn't even practice and we still beat you", or "get that girl with the brace, she's not that good anyway"...OR, better yet, "knock her down, shove her out of the way, TRIP HER!!!". These are the PARENTS saying these things!!!!! And the kids are not much better, last night they tied a team 0/0 and the girls are suppose to go to each side of the opposing team as well as slap hands(kinda like a high five) and congradulate each other. Half the girls refused and then the goalie for the other team had the audacity to tell our girls that they "sucked" anyway. GRRRRRRR......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, but it just thoroughly pisses me off, when I see parents that just don't give a shit how their kids behave...it's sad and scary to think that these will one day be grown ups passing this behavior on to other kids.  Voting for our presidents and leaders in our communities. Scarier still, they are most likely the "road rage" that you will see on the news and they could even be teaching YOUR kids kids one day!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just something to ponder.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-7255130573046785355?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/7255130573046785355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=7255130573046785355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7255130573046785355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7255130573046785355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-are-parents-teaching-kids-these.html' title='What are Parents teaching kids these days???!!!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-1904780994522696141</id><published>2008-10-15T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T14:12:49.777-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life Happens'/><title type='text'>You have got to be kidding me!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;This falls in the "be careful what you say and in front of whom you say it" rule I believe. It is an incident that happened last year when my son was in Kindergarden and it still lingers in my mind. Of course it does not help that I see this woman everyday, and that she lives within visual sight of my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning I was running late, as usual, and had to sign in at the office before I could take my son to his class. I dropped him off and proceeded to the office to sign out. While signing out of the system, I overheard a conversation between another student's mother and the head woman in the office. The Mother was expressing her feelings about her daughter's reaction to finding out she was adopted. Her daughter is in fifth grade this year and was apparently 10 when her parents shared this information with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now do not mis interpret what I'm about to say here. I do understand from a mothers perspective, the emotion that this young girls mother could have been feeling. She explained in detail, how they had told her daughter about her firstparent's. Apparently, her daughter replied with a comment something like..."you mean I have more parents out there??". Now...I understand, that this is her mother, in every sense of the word. But it did sting a little to hear her respond to this question so vehemently. "NO" she said, "you only have one set of parent's". She told this story with what sounded to me like quite alot of resentment and anger at the fact that her daughter had even thought, much less said alound, that she had "other parent's" out there somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't blame her for her response, because in reality, she is correct. I suppose, it might have been tone in which she said it, or the look on her face when she was recalling it.   She has every right to feel the way she feels and I'm sure that if I knew the whole story I might feel differently.  However, it just hit a nerve, I wanted to say..."I am a firstmom, and I found my Firstdaughter and we have an amazing relationship". I wanted to shout, sometimes it does work out.   Sometimes you can have a relationship with your birthchild and his/her parents.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Now every day when I go in there, I want to pull out the picture of my first and second daughter sitting side by side for the first time ever.   Then follow that up with a picture of my grandson... :)....    Oh what I would give to have a picture of ALL my children together.  I haven't yet, but one day I will. I just want people to realise, that no matter what ....be careful what you say, because you never know who might be listening...or within earshot that is!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-1904780994522696141?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/1904780994522696141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=1904780994522696141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1904780994522696141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1904780994522696141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me.html' title='You have got to be kidding me!!!!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-1410385841144433117</id><published>2008-10-07T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T08:34:37.022-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Dear Friend.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Friends come and go in our lives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Many long forgotten as years keep passing by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Few remain within our hearts and in our minds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;But a chosen few withstand the tests of time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;There are those that come to mind now and again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Briefly touching our thoughts, unknowingly we grin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Some only thought of at special times&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;When life triggers a memory long forgotten in your mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;All hold a place in your heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Some who hurt you deeply&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Still bring tears to your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Others who made you laugh &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;til you thought that you would die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Of all the ones I've met along the way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Some I gladly called a friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;A select few became more like sisters in the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Because we shared a special bond&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;An unseen link that brought us together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Even though the miles might be many&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Friendships can still stay strong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Sometimes these friends they slip away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;As we meet new friends every single day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;But they don't slip away from our heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Because in our lives they played an intricate part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Dear Friend &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Even though you may have come and gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;A place in my heart for you, lingers on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Written by Michelle Naylor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Oct. 7th 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;Dedicated to all my sisters and friends that have changed my life and in part made me who I am today..my love and thanks to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-1410385841144433117?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/1410385841144433117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=1410385841144433117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1410385841144433117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1410385841144433117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/10/dear-friend.html' title='Dear Friend.....'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-911914715874347616</id><published>2008-10-01T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T10:41:43.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoops! It's been awhile.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SOO17smpTHI/AAAAAAAAADs/tZj3ccIj9Fs/s1600-h/my+babies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252241627634289778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SOO17smpTHI/AAAAAAAAADs/tZj3ccIj9Fs/s320/my+babies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was hoping to keep up with this thing, but as usual, time got away from me. Quite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;allot&lt;/span&gt; has happened since I last posted on here. I am now officially a "Grandma"?!? That word still sounds peculiar, because in no way do I feel like a grandma. Here I am almost forty with my youngest still potty training, and now he's an uncle...? That is almost too funny to say out loud. I am hoping to post some pictures of my grandson, but for now I must wait for his mommy to put some out there first. Not a problem, he is her little one and she should have the opportunity to show him off before anyone else :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never thought I'd say this, but if it weren't for Hurricane Ike, I would probably still be waiting to see my firstborn and my firstborn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;grand baby&lt;/span&gt;. They were without power for over a week, so my second daughter played &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hookie&lt;/span&gt; and she and I went on a short road trip. We spent the whole day, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ooing&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;aaahing&lt;/span&gt; over the baby. My second daughter was just mesmerised by her nephew, although I don't think being an aunt has really sunk in. We had lunch and talked, went shopping at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt; Mart, that was sort of strange, but nice too. Never imagined myself shopping with my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;first daughter&lt;/span&gt;, her son and Mother and my second daughter....very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;indescribable&lt;/span&gt;. On the way back to the house, we picked up dinner and spent another two hours talking and taking pictures. I didn't want to leave, but life goes on and the kids go to school and chores to be tended to. It was a beautiful, amazing and wonderful day that will forever be etched in my memory. It will be added to the four days I spent with my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;first daughter&lt;/span&gt; in the hospital, and our first face to face reunion in 22 yrs. They however, do not to outweigh those memories that I have of my three youngest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;children's&lt;/span&gt; special moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of those moments happened just this past Sunday, when my second daughter and I were baptised together in front of our church. She and I were both terrified, but doing it together was not only special, but we were a support system for each other. I had been thinking about it for some time, but when my daughter decided that she was ready too, I told her I would do it with her because she was so scared to do it alone. Words cannot begin to describe the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;roller coaster&lt;/span&gt; of emotions I was feeling that day. My family and my husbands family were there, my sisters boyfriend video taped it and took pictures as well...I cannot wait to watch it. I enjoy attending church and am more involved than I ever thought I would be. It brings me much joy to watch my children having fun and making new friends, all in a safe environment. Not to mention, the biggest plus of all, we get to do it together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an amazing year this has been so far.........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-911914715874347616?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/911914715874347616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=911914715874347616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/911914715874347616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/911914715874347616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/10/whoops-its-been-awhile.html' title='Whoops! It&apos;s been awhile.....'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SOO17smpTHI/AAAAAAAAADs/tZj3ccIj9Fs/s72-c/my+babies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-5182700756252344179</id><published>2008-09-15T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T07:25:54.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired...but Here, kinda?</title><content type='html'>Wow.. What a week...UGH.&lt;br /&gt;Soccer is now in full swing and all week I worried about my DD because she was on an "any day now" status since her last OB visit.  With hurricane Ike and all that drama, and soccer and baby, I thought that was the extent of the drama...but, Nope!  Friday afternoon I checked my email only to find an email from a close friend that I use to work with.  I say close friend, but that sounds so generic.  I'm sure most of you understand that, you have friends that are more like family than friends, but maybe it is easier to say that they are close friends or dear friends, rather than to explain it in detail to someone else.  She is more like my second mom and a friend all rolled into one.  Unfortunately, the email was not from her, it was her email address, but it was her son sending it.  She is in the hospital, ICU, and from the sound of it, much worse than I would have imagined.  I knew she was depressed since our lay off and other family issues as well as her own personal struggles were taking a toll on her.  Apparently, I didn't realise just how bad things were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out Thursday night that my DD went to the hospital, she was due to be induced on Friday, but because of Ike that was cancelled.  Well, this baby boy didn't want to wait any longer..LOL, he was born on Friday morning and mom and baby were doing wonderful.  However, because of Ike, the hospital was under lock down...I haven't heard from them since Saturday afternoon.   Also on Friday, after reading my email, I get a call from my niece who is having health issues of her own and she was asking for me to pray for her.  She could tell I was already crying and asked what happened, I told her about the baby and my friend and of course she was sympathetic.  She had her own worries, so I told her I'd pray and now we wait and wait some more.  Her test results will hopefully be in today.  Between my worries about my DD and my grandson and her parents, and my dear friend and my niece, I am emotionally spent :(.  I know it will get better, it has to, but phew.....what a weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a couple of hours at the hospital with my friend Saturday and Sunday, finally meeting her son and his wife, her parents and two of her siblings, with the exception of her sister and nieces and nephews.  It's funny really, the things that go through your mind at times like these.  Everyday I have gone up there, all I think about is all the times her and I had lunches together and all the laughs and fun times we had.  I caught myself thinking yesterday how ironic it is that I have known her for seven, almost eight years and this is how I meet her family.  I hate it....I really hate it.  When I'm there, I see my mom...My Mom, I see her and I know it's her, but I keep seeing my mom.  I have no idea if that makes sense to anyone, but my mom didn't make it to ICU and she was gone before I could say goodbye.  Now all I keep thinking is, should I be saying goodbye?  Do I tell her to fight and not to give in, she looks so frail and so sick and nothing like the friend I've grown to know and love.  I saw her mom yesterday and she looks so much older than her mom....lying in that bed, it brought tears to my eyes.  Even now, just thinking of it...makes me want to cry.   In my heart...I know she wants to let go, I know she doesn't want to fight, she as much as told me so a couple of times in our conversations.  I just chalked it up to depression, but now, I think she knew and she just gave in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well....I know this is life and everyone has their own sad stories, but I just needed to get this off of my chest.  Maybe if I write it down, I'll feel at least a little less heavy with this sadness that I feel is weighing me down.  I pray for everyone who is suffering right now, everyone who has their own turmoil.  Even if you have nothing but happy stories to tell right now, I pray that you have more to come.  For those of you who have read my blogs, Thank You for taking time to "listen".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-5182700756252344179?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/5182700756252344179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=5182700756252344179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/5182700756252344179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/5182700756252344179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/09/tiredbut-here-kinda.html' title='Tired...but Here, kinda?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-8823526712505723817</id><published>2008-09-10T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T12:11:21.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doin 90 to Nothin....</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe another schoolyear has begun...ugh! Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't enjoy having my house primarily to myself, well myself and my two yr old. LOL&lt;br /&gt;Of course babysitting another almost two yr old at least three times a week doesn't necessarily qualify as having the house to myself either. Geesh, I guess I don't ever have the house to myself, unless my hubby gets a wild hair and tells me he's taking them all out somewhere. NOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soccer season is starting up, so things will be wonderfully busy for awhile.  On top of that I'm trying to find other things outside of home to keep me  occupied.  Plus, I can be around other adults once in awhile to keep me sane. Since I don't have any friends to speak of that I can go and let the kids have a play date while we have grown up conversations. I figured, since Sundays at bible school helped me so much, why not work at the church, in some way or another. YIPPEE! I am now helping in the two and three yr old room every Wednesday evening. The two older kids have thier own "classrooms" and Caleb stays with me. It's like an extended day of babysitting LOL. It's ok, I really enjoy getting out of the house and the kids have a blast singing and playing with other kids thier ages. It keeps us all from going stir crazy and gives hubby an evening to himself. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I don't really have much more to say right now, but I just wanted to blog something so I don't get in a blogging slump again. I am getting ready to round up a car load of kiddos, so I'm off for now, hope this blog finds you all well and I'll blog more later ...bye for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-8823526712505723817?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/8823526712505723817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=8823526712505723817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8823526712505723817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8823526712505723817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/09/doin-90-to-nothin.html' title='Doin 90 to Nothin....'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-3723838144849588679</id><published>2008-08-26T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T18:47:12.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I get it...I really do get it.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I found out something about one of the mom's from my daughters Soccer team yesterday. We've been talking for awhile and she knew that I had relinquished my firstdaughter when I was 17. She knows about my finding her and how we've been communicating and that I just recently had a face to face with her for the first time. She, as with many others I've told, has been very supportive and intrigued and always interested in knowing how it's going. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Finally I found out why she was so interested, well I'm sure this is not the main reason, but I'm sure it's a factor. She was adopted when she was one, by her grandparents, but she didn't find out until she was 10. She told me her story, about her mother and how she had a brother and sister that were also adopted. She just recently had contact with her father. Due to her circumstances, her reunion with her bparents has been a troubled one to say the least. I cannot fathom what she must feel, because the short of it is, that her mother is far from the way I am. She doesn't want to "know" her daughter, she's in it for herself and herself only.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I tried to tell her what I thought her dad might be thinking, just from a firstparent standpoint. Just listening to her story about her relationship with both of them, was a hard thing to hear. I hoped that my reunion and relationship with my firstdaughter didn't make her long even more for that from her firstparents. I just tried to tell her how I felt about it. What I've learned from listening to all the stories and different opinions and feelings from other firstparents and adoptees as well as adoptive parents. Basically, my feelings are this....as a firstparent, I am not my firstdaughters Mother, I gave up that right. Yes, I am her biological mother, we are linked forever in a way that cannot be taken away. However, in reunion, a firstparents relationship is only what our firstchildren want it to be. No more, No less. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;However much, I'd like to be the one she calls mom, I'm not. However much I want to be a grandma to my grandson...I'm not. He has a grandma, and she has a mom....I'm not sure what that makes me really. I call myself a firstparent, but even that doesn't sound right....that's why I say. I get it...I really do get it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-3723838144849588679?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/3723838144849588679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=3723838144849588679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3723838144849588679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3723838144849588679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-get-iti-really-do-get-it.html' title='I get it...I really do get it.....'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-1432014411029906696</id><published>2008-08-25T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T11:17:28.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UGH!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Maybe someone else can relate to this, maybe not, but I am driving MYSELF crazy because of it.  I am a very sensitive person, I cry at sappy movies, hearing stories of children who have been hurt or killed brings me to tears and makes my stomach turn.  I hate being in a room full of quiet people, I will talk about anything just to have it not be quiet...LOL.  Which I suppose is the reason my friends say I'm the friendliest person they know...I'll talk to just about anyone.  Of course staying at home all the time makes this trait even worse.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;I don't have many friends, I have a few that we have our trials and tribulations just like any other relationship, but we always manage to remain friends.  However, there are those that I think we are that close and then one day....it's just not there.  Not because I don't want that friendship, and not necessarily because they don't either.  Just because life continues to move....and you have to keep up.  I have a tendency to say things or do things that I don't realise and sometimes that's the reason for a friendship loss.  My point is this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;I wish that it was easy for me to just let a friendship go, like some can just keep going like it never was.  For me, I dwell on it and dwell on it, almost to the point of going crazy.  Mostly, if I don't know why.....if one minute we are and the next we aren't, I go insane trying to figure out what happened.  If I know it is just because our lives were so hectic that we lost touch, then it hurts, but not as bad....does that make sense?  I just wish I could let go.....because the not knowing hurts too damned much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;For all the friends I have, and for all the friends I've lost....you all have a special place in my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-1432014411029906696?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/1432014411029906696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=1432014411029906696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1432014411029906696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1432014411029906696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/08/ugh.html' title='UGH!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-3084384884596498741</id><published>2008-08-21T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T08:19:12.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Feel Like a Grandma.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I cannot believe that it's been 22 years since I had my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;first daughter&lt;/span&gt; and even though we've been sending messages.  Even though I've seen her, hugged her and talked to her.  I spent seven hours with her....it's like a dream, if that makes sense.  It's like my all my senses know but my mind can't wrap around the concept that she's not that baby that I remember.  I wonder if I'm the only one who feels like this, is it easier for some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;first moms&lt;/span&gt; to grasp that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;baby's &lt;/span&gt;are all grown up?  Do some ever grasp that concept of the time that has elapsed?  Will I???????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I wanted to sit and talk to her the whole time I was with her and her family and friends, but I knew that wasn't possible.  First, because it was her day, a day for everyone to share and celebrate with her.  Second, because I didn't want her mother to feel like I was invading "her" space.  We did talk, more than I thought we'd be able to, and she had a friend with her, which made it a little more comfortable.  Actually, I got a tad irritated with her friend, because she wouldn't shut up!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;  She was a sweet girl, and from what I learned through her and from my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;DD's&lt;/span&gt; mom later, she'd had a rough life.  All I kept thinking though, was this is a moment in time that I'd never get back and I wanted to spend as much of it learning and taking in all I could about my DD and if she talked the whole time I'd miss it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;It was and still is very surreal to me.  I still feel as if it is all some sort of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt; dream.  I was always very honest and up front with my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;DD's&lt;/span&gt; mom.  When I was still carrying her, I made my decisions and stood by everything that I said.  I tried my best to reassure her that even though I had chosen to see my DD after she was born, that she needn't fear a change of heart.  Although, I already had a change of heart, I felt as though I could not take back my promise to someone else.  I tried to put myself in her shoes, what if having a baby was not what God had planned for me?  What if I had put my heart out there for a baby that wasn't mine to hold yet?  The thought of losing a child that I'd already grown to love before I'd even gotten the chance would probably crush me.  I know not all first moms feel this way.  I have feelings of betrayal and anger still, at the fact that I felt like everyone pushed me to that decision.  I felt like I was in a corner with no other way to go, no other options given to me.  My mom told me it was up to me and she'd help in whatever way she could, but that just made my decision harder still.  How could I put my mother through that, she already did as much as she could for me and my sister.  I couldn't ask her to take responsibility for my child.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I made my choice and I followed through, however difficult it was, and I made it through with years of therapy to overcome the grief that remained.  I cannot explain that pain, the pain that you feel throughout your whole body.  Like an ache, an ache that never goes away.  Maybe, it's similar to that of a parent who has lost a child tragically?  That is the only thing that to me would be even remotely close.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;....now I'm rambling, way further from where I'd intended to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;It has been over a month since I finally got to see my DD and give her that long awaited hug. Now only a few weeks left before she too becomes a Mom.  I am excited for her, I am excited for me, I am excited and jealous for and of her Mom.  Even though her mother told me I was going to be a Grandma, I don't feel like a Grandma.  I won't get to see him grow, just like I missed out on seeing his mommy grow.  I won't get to see all his firsts.  I want to feel like a Grandma and in my heart I know I am, but without all the benefits.  I am going to see her when he's born, I will stay in a hotel if I have to, but I intend to see my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;grand baby&lt;/span&gt; and hold him at least once.  As I did with his mommy before I said goodbye.  At least this time, there is more of a possibility I'll see him before he grows into a man.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I made his mommy a blanket and sent it with her when I let her go.  I felt it was appropriate to give my grandson a treasure like that too.  I also tried to continue the tradition that my mom started for her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;grand babies&lt;/span&gt;, and instead of sewing, I crocheted his.  I hope it lasts for a lifetime.  I don't feel like a Grandma...but who knows...maybe one day I will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-3084384884596498741?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/3084384884596498741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=3084384884596498741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3084384884596498741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3084384884596498741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-dont-feel-like-grandma.html' title='I Don&apos;t Feel Like a Grandma.......'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-8782801728864700817</id><published>2008-08-19T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T09:55:22.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is there an expiration date on being tagged???</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well....here goes, apparently I was tagged several months ago for forgetting how to blog.   Yikes!  I did forget how to blog as well as several other things.  I've been a little selfish lately, a trait that I've apparently passed onto my kids :(.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ok MomChelle, thanks for the tag ;)...LOL.  Six random things about me???  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;1) I love watching TV...look up couch potato in the dictionary and you'll see my name.  I have approximately 60 shows set up to record LOL!  If I could I'd add more to it, but unfortunately I can only record two different shows at one time...:(...decisions, decisions!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;2) I hate, loathe, detest cleaning.  I never have been good at it, I used to bribe my sister to do it when we shared a room as kids, she loved it and even at age 5 she was better about it than me!  UGH!  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;3) I'm a pack rat, hence making the fact that I hate to clean even worse...I have way too much Junk.  I just can't seem to throw anything away, clothes, kids school papers, even old bills..geesh.  I watch that show "How Clean is Your House?", just to make myself feel better. Hahaha!  At least I can honestly say my house is not, nor will it ever be that bad!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;4) I used to love to read, but I never have time for that anymore.  I really enjoy those scary books about haunted houses and ghosts and such.  Especially if the stories are based on supposedly true stories.  The scarier the better!  I've never been much for the Harlequin romance novels, the closest to that is the Diana Gabaldon series.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;5) I love spending time with my family, going for walks or to the park.  We all have bikes now and when the weather permits, we like to go riding.  One of our favorite things to do is to rent a PPV movie and pop popcorn, then we pull out the blow up mattress for the kids and all pile in the living room together.  I do like to go out every once in awhile, either a girls night out or just a "date" with my hubby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;6) I just recently have found out how much I enjoy volunteering at our church.  I am hoping to get a job in the "Mothers Day Out" program this year.  It has been a much needed break and I really love it.  This year has been a hard one, but I've also met some great friends and wonderful women who I admire and love that helped me get through.  I truly have a newfound admiration for SAHM's and know that I'm not cut out for that job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Alright, can't think of anything else, and I have know idea who to tag now.  But if anyone else wants to share, I'm trying to be more consistant with my blogging and reading others, I'd love to know more about ya'll.  Hope everyone had a great summer and hope the first day of school is a breeze :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-8782801728864700817?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/8782801728864700817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=8782801728864700817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8782801728864700817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8782801728864700817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/08/is-there-expiration-date-on-being.html' title='Is there an expiration date on being tagged???'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-6456931824648400176</id><published>2008-08-15T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:45:18.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Check out my Slide Show!</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 320px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-3a.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=360287970202713658&amp;amp;site=widget-3a.slide.com"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;div style="WIDTH: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;ad=0&amp;amp;id=360287970202713658&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-3a.slide.com/p1/360287970202713658/bb_t025_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;ad=0&amp;amp;id=360287970202713658&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-3a.slide.com/p2/360287970202713658/bb_t025_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-6456931824648400176?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/6456931824648400176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=6456931824648400176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/6456931824648400176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/6456931824648400176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/11/check-out-my-slide-show_2535.html' title='Check out my Slide Show!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-9073133751847694172</id><published>2008-08-14T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T08:34:20.440-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wonders of the World...'/><title type='text'>What a Beautiful Journey.......</title><content type='html'>It's been such a very long time since my last blog. I think I may have forgotten how to do this! LOL&lt;br /&gt;What a wild ride the last few yrs have been. I started looking for my firstdaughter in Feb. of 06 and amazingly found her in April O6, three days before my birthday and a couple of weeks before hers. What a rush of emotions, happy, scared, excited, terrified...relief, the most important of all. That weight of the not knowing for 20 yrs lifted in an instant. She's all grown up, healthy, happy, smart, talented and beautiful..of course :). I sent her the first of three letters, enclosed in a birthday card along with pictures. Waited three months and sent her a second letter, despair kicks in at this point. What is she thinking? Does she hate me, is she still in shock that I found her? Is she as afraid of where this will lead us as I am, now that the first step to reunion has been taken? OK...one more letter, right before Christmas. Still no reply.....I'm crushed.&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful I found a place where other women share similar stories because I don't think my sanity would have held out without that support system. I was lucky enough to find a group of "sisters" and we created a wonderful bond. We kept each other going...I think....at least that is true for me. They are a wonderful group of women, strong, funny, caring and each amazing in their own way. One can laugh at herself and life, but is fiery and determined and has the amazing gift of being able to accomplish things I wouldn't even tackle! Another is full of wisdom and the awesome strength to juggle both life and family that I would give anything to possess. She can take care of cooking dinner, baseball games and still manage to get her house clean...grrr...LOL. Last but certainly not least is a Rockin Eighties Chick, who remembers way more about the eighties than pretty much anyone else I know! She's funny and sweet and spunky. Anyhow, without them, I could not have retained the little amount of sanity I had to start with.&lt;br /&gt;I managed to wait and wait somewhat patiently, until I couldn't wait anymore. I found her on one of those "myspace" type places and for the longest time I kept checking, because I just knew it was her. Tossing around, do I send her a message, do I sit and wait some more? Finally, a sign! A picture, she posted a picture of herself, my first sight of her all grown up. I was ecstatic, elated and totally freaked out...LOL! OK...now do I send her a message? One of my friends said to "go for it!", so I did!!! And what do ya know...she replied and I finally knew for certain it was her and I just about fell out of my seat. That's where the relationship really started. We sent each other messages for almost two yrs, asking questions, telling little stories about our lives, learning a little every time about each other. We never met, or talked over the phone, but somehow we made a connection and it was strong enough to make her feel more comfortable with me than I realised. Enough so, that she decided to skip talking on the phone and go straight to a face to face. Talk about shocked...I was stunned speechless, because with every message I sent, I was terrified...what is she thinking, did I say something dumb or did I make her mad or upset with something I said?  Constantly felt as if I was walking on eggshells. However, she invited me to her shower(baby), yup, gonna be a grandma...I still feel odd saying that. It was an amazing day, I showed up with my second daughter, fifteen minutes early and before everyone LOL. Finally I saw her, not on the computer, not from a picture, but flesh and blood and she was so beautiful. I hugged her, hugged her mom and watched both my first daughter and second daughter hug for the first time. That was the moment that brought tears to my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;The shower was wonderful, we got to talk for a little while, but it was limited due to the occasion. Afterward, they invited us to go to her grandma's and visit. We stayed there for another five hours, ate dinner and talked and talked. I got to meet her brother and hear about when she was little. We talked about the adoption, and we talked about both our families. She showed me her amazing artwork, and her mother told me how she is a beautiful singer as well. It was just an amazingly, beautiful, much more than I ever expected, day. &lt;br /&gt;I want to thank each and every one of my "sisters" for giving me the support I needed to make it this far. And for my family for putting up with my craziness the last couple of yrs. How lucky and blessed I am for having them all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-9073133751847694172?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/9073133751847694172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=9073133751847694172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/9073133751847694172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/9073133751847694172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-beautiful-journey.html' title='What a Beautiful Journey.......'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-7549982798627163737</id><published>2008-03-10T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T09:27:31.380-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Wonderful World of Caleb'/><title type='text'>EEWWWWW!!!!</title><content type='html'>Ok, let me just give you a brief overview before I tell you the latest in the Saga of Caleb.  He is two and a half and every bit of the terrible two's.  Out of all three of my kids, I must say he is the one who puts me on the verge of insanity with the things he finds to get into or the crazy things he's done.  From putting mascara all over his mouth and inside his mouth, to emptying an entire bottle of Tylenol on the floor in a matter of three minutes mind you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was one, I thought he'd swallowed the tip of his nose sucker.  At age 1 and a half he stuck his hand on the burner I'd just turned off and prior to this he'd touched a pan we think and had a blister on the crease of his middle finger the size of a dime.  We didn't know he'd burned it until after dinner and we were washing his hands, he didn't cry or make a noise of any sort until then and even at that moment all he did was say "hot".  That became his word for all "owies".  He then proceeded to stick his hand in the middle of a red ant pile not long after that, and was bitten at least fifteen times and all he did was "uh uh", as he walked up to me with his hand outstretched.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is the child that when he gets a bug bite, it swells to the size of a golf ball.  If we are lucky, he won't scratch it and make a scab, once a scab has formed we have to cover it or he'll continue to pick at it until it leaves a scar.  He has several on his legs and one on his hand we thought would never heal.  If that all was not bad enough, he's gotten this fascination lately of inserting objects of ALL kinds into his ears, and his nose "ahhhhhh".  LOL  Today's latest adventure, I must say, is one that would have been really funny I'm sure had it not been for the fact that I thought he might have to go back to the doctor because of it!  I was putting him in his seat and noticed an obstruction in his nose, thinking it was a booger I told him to blow.  On closer inspection it was green, blue green, I thought paper??  NOPE...GUM!!! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to get it out with a kleenex and my finger, I know...eww gross, but a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.  To no evail, it was just breaking off into little snotty globs of goo.  Finally, with the help of a flashlight and some tweezers, Walah!!  Wow...sometimes I am truly amazed at the countless things kids do and say, each one has some memorable moment all their own.  Mom's know and anyone who's watched kids, you've had a taste of it I'm sure!!!!  Gotta Love Em!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-7549982798627163737?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/7549982798627163737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=7549982798627163737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7549982798627163737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7549982798627163737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/03/eewwwww.html' title='EEWWWWW!!!!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-68137966980815142</id><published>2008-03-02T22:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T23:44:17.836-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Knowledge or Hindsight?'/><title type='text'>Adoption...What You Don't Think of Until It's Too Late</title><content type='html'>First let me say, WOW it has been awhile! Second, what you are about to read, for those of you who have not given up your rights to parent, but are rather hoping for that mother to do so, I will warn you now, you probably don't want to read further than this sentence. For those of you out there that are "sisters", with stories similar to mine, maybe you will relate, or maybe you are still new to the intricate and heart wrenching world of adoption. What I am going to say is by no means an attempt at changing a future first mothers mind about giving up rights to parent their child...OK, maybe just a little. OH HELL, it's definitely an attempt to keep any unsuspecting Mother to be from living the never ending, nauseating, gut wrenching, hole in your heart forever life of placing their child into someone elses arms forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that I had thought about my choice, every facet of it. I thought I was "OK" with my decision to give my child to this man and woman who told me one thing, only to find out twenty years later..it was all lies! My thought process was this, I am 17, I am single, I don't have a job, I haven't finished school, her father is doing things with his parents knowledge that no young person should be doing, and most likely will not finish school(which he didn't). My mom is a single parent, barely taking care of me and my sister, I can't expect her to care for me and my child. What do I have to offer her? I don't want her to miss out on things(material mind you), I can't provide her with the stability of a mother and a father. I'm not capable of providing her the things a family with two parents would be able to. I am doing this out of my love for her. She deserves more than what I have to offer her. What I didn't realise though, that I do now, is that I was doing the only thing I thought I could do. I felt, that once I said it and once I'd picked this couple, I couldn't change my mind. Guilt maybe? I felt like I couldn't change my mind, everyone had done so much, the lawyers, the aparents paid the doctor bills, plus my mom's heart was breaking, how could I keep a baby and make her feel obligated to help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I thought I'd thought of everything, but I didn't. At seventeen, truly, do we really see the whole picture? My mind didn't have any knowledge of the hole that my heart would be forever an open wound. I didn't realise that my love for my first daughter would see me through. I didn't realise that I COULD take care of her and give her what she needed. Love, a home, food and the basic necessities that she needed to thrive were there for me, I just needed someone to show me the way. If I had known then what I was giving up, I never would have signed those papers, I NEVER would have missed out on all those Firsts. I would have been MOM, Grandma or Nana or Mema, whichever the case might be. See that is what no one ever tells you, you are giving up not just the right to be a parent to your child, but the grandparent to their children too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a cruel joke Adoption can be. For those of us not able to experience "open adoption", I suppose it can be worse. Or those of us who have semi, only to have that door shut in your face because of the aparents lack of trust, or just out of sheer meanness maybe(sometimes). That to me is the cruelest of all. Now, in the midst of reunion, I am feeling that knife in my heart just turning and turning with every thought of what I have missed out on these years gone by. Now to my first daughter, who is soon to be a mom, I am no one. I am but the incubator that shielded her and gave her a place to grow and thrive, until her entrance into the world when she was ready, and gave her to another. I grew to love her before I knew she was there, from the first instant I knew she was growing inside my womb, I loved her. Before I felt the first flutters, until the moment I felt her turning somersaults and reeking havoc on my insides, I loved her. She was mine, if only for that brief amount of time, she was mine. They may have had all the "firsts" that came after, but I had her FIRST. I felt her growing, I saw her first, I held her first, I counted her fingers and toes first. I changed her first, I fed her first, I cuddled her first while she slept in my arms and I gave her those first kisses and breathed in every scent of her sweet baby smell FIRST. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this, I have those memories, they are mine, forever etched permanently, no one, especially those who lied to me to get what they wanted, will ever take that away. They might be "mom" and "dad", but I am her Mother forever. They are her babies Grandma and Grandpa, but I am the Grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will just find some comfort in knowing that a little of who she is and who her children are, is apart of me.  For example, two of the names she chose were names that I chosen while carrying her.  Ironic really how life comes full circle no matter what we do with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-68137966980815142?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/68137966980815142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=68137966980815142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/68137966980815142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/68137966980815142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/03/adoptionwhat-you-dont-think-of-until.html' title='Adoption...What You Don&apos;t Think of Until It&apos;s Too Late'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-4621504789590403457</id><published>2008-02-18T17:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T18:11:01.409-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Knowledge or Hindsight?'/><title type='text'>Time Stands Still</title><content type='html'>It has been awhile since my last entry, thought it was time for an update on the news my first daughter shared with me only a few weeks ago. Seeing as she's apparently shared her joyous news with her friends, I am hoping that it is safe for me to share it as well. She is going to be a Mom, and I am thrilled for her, for her Parents...soon to be Grand parents. In as much as I am happy and excited for her, there is unfortunately an underlying feeling of jealousy and sadness for me. That baby that I said good bye to over twenty years ago is going to have a baby of her own. That right of being able to spoil my grand baby isn't going to happen this time. I am NOT  "grandma", I am NOTHING to this baby on the way. Wow! I never never thought this far ahead when I signed those papers and kissed my first daughter goodbye. Never in a million years had I dreamed that that decision would leave me saying "goodbye" all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am linked to her, which makes me linked to her unborn child too doesn't it? To any unborn yet to come??? Some say that when an adopted child becomes a parent, the need to reunite or at least to "find out where they came from" kicks in. How does this work when we are already in the process of a reunion...of sorts, which consists of the occasional message back and forth via a website? She obviously isn't ready or doesn't have any desire to know of my(her) story, why I chose to relinquish. Who her father is, or how we met. She doesn't desire any information up to and including that of her birth. I have not offered, as I was told she would let me know when she was ready. Now I am questioning, how will she feel as her pregnancy progresses and after she has brought her sweet baby home? Will she want or need to know more about her past, her biological family...OR, will her feelings turn to that of anger? Anger at my choice to give up my rights to parent her, because now, she will know the overwhelming love that comes with that first look on your precious child. Maybe she will wonder how on earth I could look at her sweet, beautiful little face and still choose to give my right to parent to another. So many questions, not a single answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I will just keep doing what I'm doing. Try to be as patient, as understanding, as non threatening as possible. Let her continue to take the lead and see where it takes us. Try not to get heart broken at the thought of not being able to see her on the day of her baby shower or to help throw it for her even. I'll make this blanket that I hope she will love and cherish and that my first firstgrandchild will treasure someday. This is the tradition that my mom started for her grand babies and I intend to continue that same tradition, even if I am not or cannot be the grandparent that I long to be. I'll wait patiently, and pray everyday that one day this path that she and I are on takes us one step further and hopefully leads to more than just this cyber relationship that we seem destined to continue for now. I long to hear her voice, I ache to see her in person and give her the biggest hug possible, but I'll wait....as long as it takes, until she's ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-4621504789590403457?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/4621504789590403457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=4621504789590403457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/4621504789590403457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/4621504789590403457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/02/time-stands-still.html' title='Time Stands Still'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-3925827493592658503</id><published>2008-01-28T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:36:09.934-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Knowledge or Hindsight?'/><title type='text'>I have no right.....Or do I?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My jealousy is making it hard to stay focused. I found out some scary, wonderful, and downright terrifying news from Robyn this weekend. I think that the shock of it will last until I finally have that face to face that I'm longing for. I cannot give any detail just yet, but lets just say that it's life altering, as much as having Robyn was life altering for me. All my kids for that matter! Anyhow, I'm trying to be supportive and comforting and MATURE about the situation. I have offered my advice and feel as if I am a long distance friend rather than her first mother. I know that I have no right to be apart of her life anymore than she has allowed me to be up to this point. However, I am forever linked to her and when she has children, am I not linked to them as well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been brewing this over and over in my head. I concieved her, I carried her in my body. Went through the morning sickness, the swelling hands and feet, the aches, the lack of sleep either from being uncomfortable or the having to pee twenty times in the night. Through the heartburn that had me up sick in the middle of the night and downing antacids like they were candy. Made it through the stretchmarks and the horrible scar left after an emergency C section. I remember the first time I saw her after waking up in the recovery room, all alone at three in the morning, just she and I. Looking at her in the little light that barely brightened the room. Sleeping, so soft and smelled so sweet, pulling her little cap off to see her beautiful blonde hair and opening her blanket to do the ritual test of ten fingers, ten toes. I had her with me, just the two of us, for four long wonderful days. So many times I wanted to change my mind and take her home with me. All I kept thinking was that I would hurt so many people, her "parents", my mom, who worked so hard for me and my sister. I kept telling myself that what I was doing was the right thing...for her, everything for her. Now, I wonder, was it really just for her, or was it my fear of hurting someone else if I didn't go through. I imagine it was a combination of many things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am jealous now, of all the firsts I missed. All the firsts that I'm missing and all the firsts yet to come. Especially those yet to come. When she has children, her Mom gets to be grandma, this wouldn't have been possible without me. I never thought of this before, there are alot more possibilites for her parents than just that of being parents, now they can be grandparents too, and everything that comes with. If she has children, does that make me a "firstgrandma"? Since I made my choice, who am I in her life? Who will I be to her children? Just a woman who gave her life and then gave her away? I can only hope that one day, I will be more than just that woman, that I can maybe be more than just a friend. I know I cannot and could not ever be her Mom, but I would like to be something more. I feel like I don't have the right to feel this, but these are my feelings nonetheless.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-3925827493592658503?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/3925827493592658503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=3925827493592658503' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3925827493592658503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3925827493592658503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-have-no-rightor-do-i.html' title='I have no right.....Or do I?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-4097302917814292817</id><published>2008-01-26T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:36:50.931-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life Happens'/><title type='text'>Breathe in Breathe out......:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I feel so much better. This past week has been a ton better than it has been for awhile. Aside from some shocking news that I'm still recovering from, I feel so much better. I made up my mind that I am going to get up every morning and say a prayer and take several breaths before I get out of bed and start my day. Aside from a headache that is unrelenting, not related to stress, it's allergies...LOL. I feel pretty....what's the word...content...relaxed....calm? Either one will work. It just took me blogging about my frustrations and feelings to make a whole world of difference. Well, that and the advice from my friends(sisters). It makes the world a much happier place when you have somewhere to vent and people who will "listen" and offer to be there for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I had several things working against me. First, the fact that I am not used to being at home all the time and secondly, I'm frustrated because hubby and I never seem to have any time to ourselves anymore. He's working all the time which is frustrating to me and very tiring for him and I think it actually makes me feel guilty. Like I'm not contributing or anything. I know I stay at home and watch the kids all day and do other things that are important and necessary, but I still feel like I'm not doing enough sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I am tired of feeling like crap and I'm gonna do my damndest to not procastinate and do what I need to do to get back on track. I am determined to get my house situated and organized. I need some ME time...reading, writing, drawing....maybe use the oil paint set for dummies I got for Christmas...LOL. Spend more time on here chatting with my friends. I need to go out and do some things for myself like I used to. Get my nails done, get addicted to pedicures(no Brazilian, I draw the line there!), and go shopping for ME! It will get better, I will be as stress free as I can....I will not let my kids drive me nutz...oh wait....that might be a lost cause. I'm gonna do like that song says..."I will survive" :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-4097302917814292817?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/4097302917814292817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=4097302917814292817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/4097302917814292817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/4097302917814292817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/01/breathe-in-breathe-out.html' title='Breathe in Breathe out......:)'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-5803451462069175426</id><published>2008-01-22T12:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:37:21.068-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sheer Craziness....'/><title type='text'>I Feel I've Failed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know part of this "depression", yep, I'll call it what it is..."depression", is because of the weather today. Rainy, dreary days always make me tired and listless and not wanting to do anything except crawl back into bed and stay there. Which, as you know, being a mom makes this impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been over a year and a half now of me staying at home and I love my kids, but I hate being at home. I don't have any friends to speak of, that I see or spend time with that is. I spend all day long with no one older than 12 yrs of age. As of late, I don't want to do anything, because I feel half the time I'm chasing my tail. I hate my house, it's old, it's dusty, and there are so many things that need to be done to it, it literally makes me ill just to think about it. Every now and again I get a bug up my butt and clean like crazy. I get really excited when I get a couple of rooms done, only to get aggrivated and upset as I attempt another room and come back to find the other two are right back where they were before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel tired, angry, and irritated all the time now. What good am I doing my children if all I ever do is yell at them and am angry with them??? Travis is failing Kindergarten for Pete's sake! I am so busy trying to clean or too depressed to do anything that I have failed him. He needs my help and I am here...but I'm not. His daddy is working two jobs to keep me home and for what??? So he can die young and leave me a widow with three kids??? Why?? Why can't I do this?? What am I doing wrong?? I don't ever want to go on the computer anymore. This being my only link to Robyn and my "sisters", making me feel even more alone and feeling guilty for not being there when my "sisters" need me. I have this blog and I think of things to blog about, but can never muster the time or energy to blog and when I do, I have lost any ideas of what I was going to put here. My myspace page is still in Christmas theme and my facebook has so many notifications and pokes and invites it's scary and daunting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I had Travis and my mom passed and my husband and I separated for a yr, I was a totally different person. I made all my daughters halloween costumes and all her birthday cakes. I always sent out the invitations on time and never forgot to send "thank you" cards. I always sent Christmas cards to everyone and I never forgot things. I knew everyones birthdays and phone numbers by heart. Now, I am always late with the Christmas cards...if I even remember to send them, and I usually end up sending birthday invitations via computer or phonecalls. I am always rushing last minute to make birthday cakes, or lately I just break down and buy one, and heaven forbid I make all three of my kids costumes for Halloween.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel lately, like I've fallen in a giant black hole with no hopes of escape. I cry at the drop of a hat and get angry just as fast. My language as of late is atrocious, which is rubbing off on my oldest boy, and making it's way to his classroom...not a good thing! I don't want to go back to work, HELP, how can I get past this? I want to be here for my kids, but I have lost me in the process...how do I get "me" back?? Feeling like a huge failure to my kids, my husband and most of all myself.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-5803451462069175426?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/5803451462069175426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=5803451462069175426' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/5803451462069175426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/5803451462069175426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-feel-ive-failed.html' title='I Feel I&apos;ve Failed'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-1655943213547127927</id><published>2008-01-15T17:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:37:52.151-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sometimes Every Day Is A Monday'/><title type='text'>Margurita time!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Has anyone invented the smiley in the straight Jacket yet? If not, do you get money for inventing new ones? LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had the worst "Monday Part II" in a long long long time. This morning wasn't too rough, until....my hubby and daughter left the house. I knew I was in for it when all I said to my middle child was " Ok Travis, it's time to...."....and I heard a loud thud(him hitting the floor on his knees, head thrown back, hands clenched in fists), and then a low but audible "AAAAHHHHHH". I then repeated it, making sure to say it loud enough to be heard over the next moan and groan and flop. "Time to brush your teeth", to which he reluctantly surrendered his DS and stomped into the bathroom. There we all were brushing our teeth, catastrophy averted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both Travis and Caleb already dressed and ready to go, I finished getting myself ready. Then the dreaded, "ok...get your back and jacket it's time to go"....."AAAAAHHHH", and thud, and then whining, and crying and huffing and puffing. That would be a combination of both Caleb and Travis at this point. Caleb used to be so excited to run out the door every morning, now, not so much. His latest technique is to do the Rolly Polly I call it. Visual...he drops to the floor, tucks his feet and head and covers his head with his arms and if I try to pick him up he just hangs like a rag doll. So, I usually have to pick him up and carry him while maneuvering his older brother out the door and to the car. Trying with all my might to light a fire under his butt, I tell you, they get slower and slower the older they get. Unless it is the park or an event that spells fun fun fun. We make it to school, no more drama, other than having to carrie Caleb the whole way. Travis wants to walk himself to class...woohoo...I tell him to take off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of my day consists of two wild childs, both approximately two and a half feet and under. It's not so bad the first hour, and the next hour and a half are pure heaven as they both get some much needed Z's. Then...to quote a very old phrase, "the shit hits the fan". I get the littlest one up first, in the high chair and onto lunch. The next is up and ready to eat, only he won't eat. I am trying to send a fax via my new fax machine, I hate electronic gadgets with a million buttons and no idea what they all do! Anyhow, I'm thinking, how hard could this be? Five minutes and I'll be done...NOPE...LOL! Caleb won't eat and the other little girl I watch is through at this point. Caleb needs a diaper, the baby needs a diaper and I'm thinking five more minutes...just five more minutes. A minute later...just one mind you, and I'm thinking, Caleb is REALLY REALLY quiet. I go into my living room to find him standing over my couch, the babies powdered formula(BIG CAN), in a heap at his feet and a mound or so on the couch and the empty container beside him. My turn..."AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"....to the left of him is also a bowl(had a lid at one point), that contained cornstarch at one time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm distressed, I pull his pants off, dust him off as best I can and stick him in his bed so I don't have a mind to beat him with a noodle or something. I vaccum up the floor and the couch, not forgetting his pants, and think, ok, I'll just leave him for a few minutes where he's safe and I know I won't have a mess to clean up. I finish my fax, get the baby cleaned up and down and then change her. Next I go to get him and find to my horror that he has removed his diaper, which is not clean I might add and so lo and behold...a mess to clean up. Now the thought of needing calgon has come and gone at this point and I'm in need of a beer. I get everyone, including him cleaned, changed and ready to go get the rest of the crew. I realise then that my oldest has rehearsal, which means loading everyone back up an hour after we get home and heading back out...ggggrrrrrrrrrrr. I go to her school first and pick up her friend that I watch, then head straight over to my son's school to pick him up(waiting 30 + minutes).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd think that was it right? Nopers, next we tear the house apart because the DS is gone, to which Travis insists he's not had it since last night. We find it, and then it's dinner time, the kids won't eat, unless told to get ready for bed. The dog get's sick in the floor, and Caleb has fallen off the couch, knocked a picture off the wall and OMG...it's actually quiet right now! Not for long I'm sure :). I need some Margurita Mix and a really big bottle of Tequila!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-1655943213547127927?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/1655943213547127927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=1655943213547127927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1655943213547127927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1655943213547127927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/01/margurita-time.html' title='Margurita time!!!!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-5809929877254403344</id><published>2008-01-06T23:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:38:41.755-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sheer Craziness....'/><title type='text'>Am I Losing It?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Family, I love my family, I love my brother and my sisters. I love my nieces and my nephews. My immediately family...IE my kids and my husband are my world. Does anyone have those family members that seem to live to piss you off? Their sole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;purpose&lt;/span&gt; in life is that it revolve around them and to make yours as miserable as possible, so much that you avoid them at all costs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get it....they can make HUGE, GINORMOUS, IDIOTIC mistakes or bad choices and I just try to find some silver lining. I show support and encouragement and give the shoulder if needed. Especially now that my mom is gone, it's double what it used to be as far as the toll it takes on me and my world. God forbid, I do something &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;maybe&lt;/span&gt; a little out of the norm and possible stupid...hey...it happens :). Do I get support or encouragement? Hell no! I get judged and snapped at and belittled. When I point out the stupid acts that have been done by them in the past and how my reactions differed tremendously in comparison. Well...that's the past now isn't it and it has absolutely nothing to do with the here and now. In other words....they are allowed to screw up and I have to be there for them, but I screw up and it's another story and it doesn't matter one damn bit what excuses or past accounts I bring up, that's almost worse than just admitting defeat and stupidity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another issue that tears me up, I don't think anyone with one child can truly comprehend what parenting is like for those of us with two or more. Not to say that it makes someone any less of a parent, but well...lets face it...having more than one is a whole other world. My sister seems to think that my daughter can still spend the night and that it should be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; if my middle son stay home. He is five now, he notices these things....this is his AUNT..for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Pete's&lt;/span&gt; sake and his cousin...who is a boy I might add. When he was a baby, we could get around it, now...not so easy. My rule is...if one is to go, then both have to go. NO EXCEPTIONS! My kids are not going to be picked and chosen at my families discretion. My sister was angry about this and has voiced it in the past, but I am not going to budge. She asked me this last time...."can't you just tell him his sister needs to get away sometimes?", I asked her if she wanted to explain that to him. No response. Then a bit later she says..."doesn't he go and spend the night at his Nana's(my MIL), by himself?", I told her yes, but that was because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Katlyn&lt;/span&gt; never wants to go to church and that is what he does with his Nana. Then she says..."doesn't she go to her friends houses alone?", and I said yeah, but YOU are his and her AUNT...not a FRIEND...and HE(my nephew) is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; COUSIN...not the same thing as a friend!!!! Am I missing something, or is she just not understanding? Am I speaking another language??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is odd to me anyway how my sisters son, who is eight, would rather play with my 11 yr old daughter than my five yr old son. That said, he is an only child, he is totally into anything to do with computer games, or handheld games or PS2 and such. He is in no way an "outdoorsy" kind of boy, or a "cowboys and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Indian's&lt;/span&gt;" kinda kid. My boys...well...they are very much the opposite, very much into cars and trucks and getting muddy and playing outside as much as possible. Maybe he's a little intimidated. I don't know if this is from being an only child, or if it is just is in his genes. I love him dearly...although it's kind of heartbreaking that he and I are not all that close...will probably never be close. He is his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;mamma's&lt;/span&gt; boy...and he was close to my mom, but never really to me, except when he was little. My kids are not perfect mind you, far from it. All I know is.....I love my kids and I will do everything in my power to keep them safe and happy and try my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;damnedest&lt;/span&gt; to make sure they all know they are loved as much as the other, no more, no less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, enough of a rant I suppose...just felt like letting off a little steam. Be back later to blow that whistle again I'm sure!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-5809929877254403344?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/5809929877254403344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=5809929877254403344' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/5809929877254403344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/5809929877254403344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2008/01/am-i-losing-it.html' title='Am I Losing It?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-7492035557807804049</id><published>2007-12-22T18:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T19:03:03.891-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life Happens'/><title type='text'>Is it just me?</title><content type='html'>I am trying so hard to enjoy the holidays, with all the hustle and bustle and the crazy shoppers and maniac drivers...it is difficult some days.  I am almost finished, FINALLY! :)   Now the family drama kicks in.  Big brother won't come because the nephew who did something absolutely unthinkable to him is going to come..OR...the nephew or brother in law won't come because; A: someone else in the family is going to be there, or B: someone, or all the family hates him.  Me, I tried to be neutral, and for years it has worked to a degree.  I often times wonder if the drama such as this isn't what contributed to my mother's high blood pressure and in the end caused her to leave this world before her time.  Since my mom's passing, five years now, there has only been one Christmas and Thanksgiving that the whole family was together, without her I mean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one!  In the years since, my older sister just stopped talking to my older brother and then my younger sister pissed him off by butting in where she shouldn't have been.  Soooooo then the next two years were without my big brother, so I would take him a plate because he was all alone.  Now, it's my nephew and my older brother because he moved in with him and couldn't follow the lifestyle that my brother lives.  Not that my brother wanted him to join a new religion or anything, just that my brother has a very clean house and intends for it to stay this way, someone even the least bit lazy and my brother would not get along.  In the end, my nephew just moved out without so much as a notice and then called the police to help him retrieve his belongings....not necessary.  That began a whole new drama.  Now my sister, his mom and her daughter have been on the outs since she moved away and had a baby.  I have tried to have an open mind to the whole situation.  I love my niece and both her brothers as well as my great niece, but sometimes you just have to say ENOUGH! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my niece an ornament last Christmas, her first, and bought a few things as well as making her a bear.  I went to my nieces to take her a crib and other things for the baby before she was born, dragging all three of my kids an hour away.  THEN, I went to her shower with my youngest, two hours away.  THEN, I went to the hospital after the baby was born with my youngest in tow, also an hour away.  After that, I drove and met her halfway, not by choice, had planned on going to her home, other plans...for her...came up(understandable), and we bought them lunch.  The baby was four weeks old, and the last time I saw her was at HIS families home for her first birthday.  This year she lied, she told me herself, to her mother and then to me(to cover her tracks she said), about what she and the baby and her baby's daddy were doing Thanksgiving.  I found this out because I called to see if what I got my great niece this year was going to be ok, only to find out they were going to HIS families house again.  There is always an excuse, she can't drive alone, or he's got personal reasons, or they have no gas, or...or...or....PLEASE...no more excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I do not work, well, I do, but it's not set in stone as far as a 9 to 5 type job, it is forever unsteady.  My husband, works two jobs and at times goes back in to his first job after he leaves his second, so, he basically works three shifts in one day.  We all have troubles, but I always felt like family is family no matter what.  Now, I finally told my niece that that was it, I can't take it anymore, I've been understanding, supportive and nurturing.  NO MORE.  I'M DONE.  She want's us to come to her, but she's not willing to come here.  I hate the holidays sometimes, and sometimes....I wish that I could just not FEEL, I'm tired of being too damned nice and then getting stomped on.  I'm tired of expressing how I feel and then being made to feel like I have no right to feel this way, please....give me a f'n break!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-7492035557807804049?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/7492035557807804049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=7492035557807804049' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7492035557807804049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/7492035557807804049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/12/is-it-just-me.html' title='Is it just me?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-3773696113935387444</id><published>2007-12-12T14:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T14:58:48.723-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life Happens'/><title type='text'>Please!</title><content type='html'>I don't know why, I don't begin to understand how, someone can sit and so blatantly bash not one, but many and not see what they have done.  I am no better, but certainly not worse than anyone else in this world.  I don't pretend to be anyone other than who I am.  I am a mom, a first mom in the midst of a reunion of sorts, and a woman, and a human being.  I love, I cry, I hurt, I get angry...I can yell with the best of them and I can give the cold shoulder if need be. &lt;br /&gt;This world has many hardships, no one is immune.  We all have our journey, each with different obstacles to overcome and many that we have managed to overcome and become stronger individuals for having done so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times when there is too much for me to take, during these times I raise my hands to God and tell him so.  I tell him no more...please no more, not now, I can't take anymore right now.  I must confess, it gets better, for a time, then the ball starts rolling again.  Kids are sick, the car is shot, the house is falling apart...I AM FALLING APART!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will survive, I am a survivor.  I am strong, I take pride in that...I get it from my mom.  Not saying that things don't get me down, that I don't get depressed, that I don't "lose it" from time to time.  I'm not a machine for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pete's&lt;/span&gt; sake, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt; human flesh and blood like everyone else.  I love my kids, I love my husband, I love my life....this is MY life, and I'm thankful for every bit of it.  This makes me who I am, where would I be without it?  I don't let the tribulations in life make me a victim, I overcome or I get passed it and move on.  I refuse to be a victim, I refuse to wallow in my pain.  I will be strong...I will overcome, I will be me in every sense of the word.  Don't judge me, unless you can say that you are without faults, don't cast that stone unless you are willing to take back what you dish out.  An old saying or two that I believe with all my heart and have seen come true over and over again.  "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" and "What goes around comes around".  Words to live by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-3773696113935387444?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/3773696113935387444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=3773696113935387444' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3773696113935387444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3773696113935387444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/12/please.html' title='Please!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-8850742435861454265</id><published>2007-11-29T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:42:55.399-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>My Poetry(one of many)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/R09R5zoMqhI/AAAAAAAAACo/yuvFeF4vkn0/s1600-h/DSC00939.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138415753406229010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/R09R5zoMqhI/AAAAAAAAACo/yuvFeF4vkn0/s320/DSC00939.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"&gt;Gift of God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Something heavenly to behold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;A sight more precious than any gold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Her pale blue eyes so wide and bright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;With soft pink skin all aglow with life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;A special sparkle from within&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;No other could ever take her place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Not ever could they fill the space&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Her life a specal gift to some&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;A joy to them for times to come&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Her heart will fill with love for them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;To them she is a precious gem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;For others will always love her so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;At least they will forever know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;She is loved so much by many that care&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Thier shining faces with love all aglow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Now have the chance to know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;What holding a little one of thier own &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;To which all thier love will go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;With plenty of pictures to be shown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Daddy's little girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Mommy's little baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;With soft fine hair for mommy to curl &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;And many a new dress to make her beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Her little body an armful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;She is a GIFT OF GOD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;MLF;May 1986&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is certainly not a masterpiece, but there it is :). This was written when my hurt was still so raw, I was only 17, but I may as well have been an old woman. I surpassed all my friends with a knowledge few if any of them would ever experience. When placing a child, your child, your flesh, your blood, a part of your heart and soul, into someone elses arms, entrusting them with a most precious and irreplacable peace of your being. You are forever changed, hopefully, that change enhances who you become in a positive way and not the negative. But no matter what that change, it is immenent and it cannot be avoided, or tucked away to face at a later time, it is always there, lurking, waiting to rear up and let you know that you are always missing something. With time comes a sort of peace for some, for others it lies just short of thier reach. I pray that you find it and that life brings you joy and happiness for the New Year on the horizon and all the years that follow.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-8850742435861454265?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/8850742435861454265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=8850742435861454265' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8850742435861454265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8850742435861454265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-poetryone-of-many.html' title='My Poetry(one of many)'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/R09R5zoMqhI/AAAAAAAAACo/yuvFeF4vkn0/s72-c/DSC00939.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-2776503541438058888</id><published>2007-11-24T18:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:46:01.259-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life Happens'/><title type='text'>Tinsel, Lights, Music and Memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/R0jY5ToMqeI/AAAAAAAAACQ/jtbnTvSKSEg/s1600-h/mommy3b.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;It's not that I don't think of my mom at any other time of the year. It seams as if Christmastime just amplifies those feelings of loss and grief. I hear songs or see Christmas lights or families bringing home trees tied to the roof of thier cars. These remind me of years gone by, Christmas's past. It's been five years yet sometimes it feels as though it's only been days. The kids do something funny or maybe they're driving me nuts and I just want to pick up the phone and share. Other times I want to ask her for her advice on something or just to hear her words of encouragement when I'm feeling lost. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I can't call her on the phone, I can't show up on her doorstep. My kids can't see there MeMe and she can't see them. Travis and Caleb will never know my mom, this tears me up. I want to enjoy Christmas again, I want to be excited for my kids. I know that they are just as excited as I was at thier ages. I want to feel that again. Now, looking back, I wonder how my mom felt at this time of year. I was around the same age as Katlyn was when my granny passed away. It's ironic to me sometimes, and scary too. Katlyn was just six when my mom left us, the same as I was when my granny passed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I still talk to my mom everyday and I look for something, anything, a sign to let me know she's still around. Sometimes I feel like she's next to me, watching me, watching her grandkids. Other times I feel as though she's far far away. I know however, that she's always here, with me, with us. In our hearts and memories. Love you Mom.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-2776503541438058888?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/2776503541438058888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=2776503541438058888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/2776503541438058888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/2776503541438058888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/11/tinsel-lights-music-and-memories.html' title='Tinsel, Lights, Music and Memories'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-4893906361422750187</id><published>2007-11-16T17:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:46:46.653-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Calgon anyone?'/><title type='text'>Worthless and Lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Today was such a peaceful day, not rushed nor stressed, peaceful. I had my lil' Caleb who is two and this adorable little baby girl who just turned one on Wednesday. I didn't really plan to run any errands besides going to the bank. Baby girl woke up from her nap first, no biggie, I fed her and then proceeded to wake up my big baby boy. Fed him, got both of them dressed and diapers changed then headed out the door. I should have known something was up when I smelled something rotten. UGH! The baby girl was ripe...oh well, it'll have to wait til we get back from the bank. Second clue, the booster for Caleb wasn't in the car, my husband had it. I had to go anyway and just drive extremely carefully..having been in a car accident myself, this is unusual for me, I have a rule, no belt, no go. I buckled him without his seat and prayed. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Both of these should have warned me to just stay home until it was time to get the girls and my middle child and the baby girls big sister. Nope...I went on..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am now at the point to which picking up Travis is a task that I dread. I know all the teachers at this school, the principal, geesh, the vice principal was Katlyn's fifth grade teacher last year. Now I was never, I repeat never in the office with Katlyn and she's now in sixth grade. The year isn't even half way over and Travis has been there three times, and I'm feeling like an unfit parent more and more. The last and most recent trip which required myself and my husband to be there, I thought was the worst it could possibly get...UMMMM NO. He had threatened another classmate and told him/her that he was going to go home and get his daddies gun and kill him/her. How can anything be worse than that you ask yourself, right? Hows this for ya? I picked him up today, and was confronted by his teacher...my heart sank before she even spoke. Overwhelming fear and dread hit, what now...OH GOD...what now?!? He had apparently found his way into the girls bathroom this week, not sure exactly what day, and exposed himself to another little girl in his class. Can I go and crawl under a rock now? This little girl went home and told this to her mother, who in turn called the school. Not sure what is to happen now...but I seriously just want to not take him back and attempt to enroll him somewhere else. I do want to know however, why was my son able to get in there in the first place? Where was an adult? Do they have a habit of letting the kids go to the bathroom alone in kindergarten? The have a bathroom in the classroom, so if this had been the case, and his teacher just didn't see him, then that would be one thing. This, however, happened in the GIRLS bathroom. They had to have been on lunch or Recess or something...again I ask you...where was the teacher?!?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His teacher asked him about the incident and he denied that he had done it. I in turn confronted him when we got home and he did after a little coaxing, tell me that he had in fact done this and that it was only his behind that he exposed....not that that makes it any better really. I tried to explain why this was unacceptable and then we had a brief discussion about this month in general and his behavior chart. He said he didn't care...AHHHHHH....I just want to scream...loud...really really loud. I want to shake him and make him understand. What did I do wrong? Where did I fail my little boy? I see him hurting when no one wants to play with him and it tears my heart to bits. I see how happy he is when he finally does find someone who's willing to play with him. He's rough and rowdy, but he's so tender hearted and cries at movies and when he's feeling lonely. I ache, every bone every muscle...my soul, aches for my baby boy. What can I do, I'm so lost, I feel like I am in a dark tunnel and there is no glimpse of light ahead. &lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-4893906361422750187?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/4893906361422750187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=4893906361422750187' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/4893906361422750187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/4893906361422750187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/11/worthless-and-lost.html' title='Worthless and Lost'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-2677853560853677656</id><published>2007-11-15T07:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:48:36.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drained....Emotionally,Mentally,Physically...Drained</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;I am so tired, I am tired to the point at which getting out of bed requires me to take a pill and even then it is a struggle. No not a prescription or an illegal drug, but sort of like my "coffee" they are just caffeine caplets...it puts a whole new spin on "revive with vivarin". I know that having kids can make you tired, but I've been "tired" for a long time, even before my kids. However, it's definitely gotten to be more of a struggle than ever. With my son and his numerous trips to the office and notes from the teacher, Katlyn and her "pre teen attitude", and Caleb and the "terrible twos", I think I'm just going to do like the bears do and hibernate!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;My daughter was a quiet child in school, most of her comments were that she was "too quiet", not participating enough with the class. She had friends, don't misunderstand, she was just shy in the classroom activities. She's always gotten great grades, and the teachers have all enjoyed having her. The only time I had any other issues in her school was in kindergarten when she would have "accidents" in order to avoid computer time. That was remedied however after the second incident when her teacher and I had a conference and we took action. It was her teacher who found the solution to the "problem". When she had a third "accident", her teacher still made her finish her computer time after she returned in fresh clothes. She discovered that it was better to just do her computer time with the rest of her classmates than to be alone and watching her friends doing other Center activities she enjoyed. As she moved on through elementary school we enrolled her in soccer as a way to bring her out of her shell a bit, this worked wonders....she is not the most outgoing in her class, but she is not afraid to join in and even got up and sang a song in front of her entire third grade class!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Travis, on the other hand is a whole other ball game. I should have known from his year in Pre K, how his Kindergarten year would go. That said, I could not have fathomed that the year wouldn't be half over and I'd have been to see not only his vice principal...twice, but his principal as well, a total of four times. I've had an hour long conversation with his teacher, spoken to his PE teacher and the counselor...I just want to crawl under a rock! His first trips to the office were because he tried to "choke" another child and apparently himself and he supposedly hit another boy(unprovoked)...wow...sounds like a five yr old boy to me! The second trip was for him hitting a little girl, AFTER SCHOOL, which may I add, if they had sent him to the car as I had asked, because he was standing at the door looking for me(because they called his name), and then they sent him back to sit down. This last trip was only yesterday, he apparently told a little boy he was going to bring his daddy's gun to school and kill him???!!!! WTF???? Sad thing was that I had just mentioned to his teacher how well he'd been doing at home and she said he was doing much better at school the past couple of days. Lo and behold, I should have just dropped him off and left...because the call I recieved later just made my heart sink. Let me first say that even though my husband has a gun, it is locked, unloaded and the bullets are in another place...both of which are hidden...I don't even know where they both are. Likewise, we have never spoken of it's existence in front of any of our kids, nor has it been out for them to see, so they have no idea it is in the house. With all the school shootings and things happening now a days in ALL the schools, they had to take drastic measures and my husband and I had to come to the school...the whole time all I can think is...HE'S ONLY FIVE!!!!! He just turned five in July ppl!!!! He hasn't barely gotten out of being a four year old!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;I am just so tired, lost, and have no idea where to go to get this figured out....now I have Caleb who is exhibiting much the same characteristics as Travis...he's sneakier though! I'm saying a prayer everyday to help me get through the terrible twos, the frightening fives and the terrifying tweens...AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-2677853560853677656?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/2677853560853677656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=2677853560853677656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/2677853560853677656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/2677853560853677656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/11/drainedemotionallymentallyphysicallydra.html' title='Drained....Emotionally,Mentally,Physically...Drained'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-5266869371259989598</id><published>2007-11-14T15:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:47:46.922-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Angels in my Life'/><title type='text'>That River of Patience Still Illudes Me....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's been a year now and I'm still hanging on, however my patience has not improved much with age. I thought that the older you get the more patience you're supposed to aquire...I'M STILL WAITING!!!!!! I used to go on my computer everyday, sometimes the majority of the day and stay up til the wee hours of the morning..chatting, searching...hoping. Now that I've found the what I was searching for, it's still so far out of reach. I feel like a dog when you hold a treat above thier head and make them beg for it, but never give it to them. My lack of patience and forboding depression has led me to stay far far away from my computer as of late. If I don't go on, then I won't be tempted to check my email every five minutes or log onto facebook even though I know that the message I long for is not there. As the saying goes..."what you don't know can't hurt you"....If I don't look, and stay away and keep occupied then it can't hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm waiting the only way I know how. The only solution to my lack of patience that keeps me sane, or some semblance of it anyway. I try to take the little bit that I am given and be satisfied with that. Take the "glass is half full" mindset and keep repeating it over and over again until I believe it. One day there will be more, one day there will be more to our communication that this necessity of a machine that so many of us turn to in these "modern" times. Long gone are actually pulling out a pen and paper and sending a letter, a "personal" letter, to someone. Now it is via the vast cables and lines that run through our cities that we communicate with our friends and loved ones. To me an inpersonable machine with which to keep in touch with people we care about, but in our hectic world, it seems a necessity with which we cannot do without. I am longing for the moment when I will actually have that piece of paper, either a letter or a card with which to cherish the fact that it was with a pen and with her own hand that these words were formed. The knowledge that her fingers held this treasure that I now can tuck away and read over and over again til my heart is content.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm still searching for that patience, but who knows what will satisfy this hunger to know as much about her as I can safely store in the corners of my mind, to think about when time allows. Will it be that first "real" letter, will it be the first time I hear her voice on the phone? Could it be when, if ever, I get to see her face to face, possible share an embrace and finally tell her everything I've wanted to tell her for the past twenty one years? Only time will tell. Until then....I wait....however impatiently...I wait...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-5266869371259989598?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/5266869371259989598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=5266869371259989598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/5266869371259989598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/5266869371259989598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/11/that-river-of-patience-still-illudes-me.html' title='That River of Patience Still Illudes Me....'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-1535249442776167535</id><published>2007-10-02T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:49:19.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why...Why...Why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why don't they tell you before you have kids that you will want to bang your head against the wall at least once everyday for the rest of your life? Why don't the tell you that no matter how many times you repeat the rule, the child will continue to break this rule daily? Why doesn't someone warn you that although someone else telling a child to use his or her "inside voice" on TV, this in no way pertains to your household. If someone had told me 5 yrs ago, prior to the birth of my two boys, that I would never again be able to enjoy a meal without one or more of my wild beasts running amuck, I would have made my husband sleep in the spare bedroom. Perhaps if I knew then what I know now, I would have been the little old lady with all the cats, or dogs preferably.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I thought that the biggest joy I could possibly have would be to stay at home and be here for my children to see their lovely faces light up everyday after school. My dream was that they would be so overly joyed to have mommy home everyday and here to pick them up that they would be angels 24/7....NOT! It was a fantasy to think that my house would be spotless and dinner ready by 6 and the kids bathed and in bed at the same time every night. Don't think that's happened once this year and a half I've been home. I feel like all I do is yell, clean clothes, fold clothes....fix a quick meal whenever possible. Do homework and bathe kids, chase dogs and sweep and mop at least four times a day, ohhhh and don't forget vacuuming! LOL...Why..oh why...didn't I have a clue? Mom...I know you'd be having the time of your life watching me cope with mine :). But all my kids never cease to make me laugh even when I want or need to be mad...gotta love em.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-1535249442776167535?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/1535249442776167535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=1535249442776167535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1535249442776167535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1535249442776167535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/10/whywhywhy.html' title='Why...Why...Why?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-1556050224670026740</id><published>2007-09-20T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:49:55.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Adventures of Caleb</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/RvK8cNk-byI/AAAAAAAAAB8/JVpdiNRyPFw/s1600-h/DSC00858.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112355719886040866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/RvK8cNk-byI/AAAAAAAAAB8/JVpdiNRyPFw/s200/DSC00858.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/RvK8ctk-bzI/AAAAAAAAACE/7EgwFAZXCCY/s1600-h/DSC00860.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112355728475975474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/RvK8ctk-bzI/AAAAAAAAACE/7EgwFAZXCCY/s200/DSC00860.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;It has been quite awhile since I've posted, I don't know if I remember how...LOL.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Woohoo! The kids are in school again and I'm home alone with my wonderful baby boy. Soon to be two and every bit the two yr old terror that little boys can be. He is the quiet one, the one that didn't say "mom" until just a few months ago, I was elated when he did. Now...I want him to forget my name....HAHAHA. He was the child that pointed and grunted and that was how he got what he wanted, try as we might to get him to say "drink" or "more" or "juice" for that matter. Eventually we'd just cave in and let him have it. He's also the one I have to watch constantly, he burned his hand one night and didn't cry or scream or even whine. My husband found it when wiping him off after dinner and by this point, to our horror and amazement, the blister was the size of a small marble. We told him it was an ouchy(owy?), and that he touched something hot, and from then on his ouchy was "hot". Later, he stuck his hand in an ant pile and came over with approximately ten ants on his hand and at least 20 to 30 stings....all he did was hold his hand up and whine. Not one teardrop!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;God love him, he is my baby...he's so hard to discipline or reprimand. I cannot imagine my world without him, or any one of my kids. You would think, with it just being him and I, that he wouldn't have the opportunity to get "into" any trouble right??? Well, not my little angel...lol. This incident happened when I was only four feet from him washing dishes. He was sitting at the dinner table, upon which was my purse, not realising at the time that he had confiscated my mascara and thinking that he was being a doll by sitting and eating his lunch, I continued with my task. When I had finished, I proceeded to go and give him a snuggle and a kiss, only to find that my littlest joy had been busy with something besides eating his lunch. He was grinning from ear to ear with black muck on his teeth, his tongue and beautiful round face. It was hard to be mad, especially when I was fighting the urge to burst into huge waves of laughter. Oh the wonderful world of mommyhood!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just a little story to add that happened today....for those of you with children, I am positive most, if not all can relate to this. I was in the bathroom to which I am NEVER alone, for some reason, this requires an audience. Anyhow, I was "finished" and ready to wipe myself, and to my horror, my baby had stolen the toilet tissue! I tried to explain to him that Mommy needed this and that I needed him to bring it back....the response was his sweet smile and blank stare....LOL. Then...aha! I told him, "Caleb, please bring mommy the potty paper, I need to clean my bo bo(what we call his bottom)(sorry if TMI)...." Lo and behold, a light goes off in his head and his eyes light up with understanding.....and away his little legs carry him. To my joy, amazement, and amusement, he brings me his wipes!!! I love my life. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-1556050224670026740?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/1556050224670026740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=1556050224670026740' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1556050224670026740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1556050224670026740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/09/adventures-of-caleb.html' title='The Adventures of Caleb'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/RvK8cNk-byI/AAAAAAAAAB8/JVpdiNRyPFw/s72-c/DSC00858.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-6594190021659373480</id><published>2007-07-25T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:50:31.239-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Angels in my Life'/><title type='text'>Thoughts of Yesterday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Rqe42wA5_RI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Rg6JoEakBbs/s1600-h/DSC00646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091241154506784018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Rqe42wA5_RI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Rg6JoEakBbs/s200/DSC00646.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I cannot believe that 21 yrs have passed since I told my first daughter I loved you and said goodbye to her for the last time. What a beautiful young woman she has grown into. Not that I know her personally, just in what she's told me and shown me since we've been "talking". I never dreamed when I was that pregnant scared 16 yr old that I'd be here today, sending her messages and hearing about her day. Knowing that she is an independent woman with dreams and goals and parents that helped her to be who she is today. It helps to see how goal oriented she is and that she has so many talents that she is mastering, what amazing gifts she's been given.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I would be lying if I said I am still certain the choice I made was the right one. There will always be the lingering "what if?", but I did make the choice I thought I had to make at that time in my life. I can say with certainty that I believed in my heart that the choice I made was for her, about her and without a doubt the hardest and most life altering choice I've ever had to make. Yes I did go on to have more children and yes they were life altering events for me as well. However, unlike most first time parents, who's lives are altered due to the birth of their child(ren), I had to live with the pain of knowing that my firstborn was out there somewhere and possibly one day might want to know why I didn't keep her too. So my joy of the birth of my preceding children is forever "saddened" in a way, with the guilt of having chosen to place my firstborn into the arms of another. Never hearing her call me mom and being able to see her do all the firsts that so many parents long for. Looking into the faces of my other children when I held them for the first time, I was reminded of the one I will never hold again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I still believe that I had all the right reasons to place my first daughter. I've seen other birth moms whose reasons were much the same. They wanted their child to have everything they couldn't give them. They wanted their child to have two parents, and they wanted their child to not have to ever "want" for anything. They wanted their child to have things they didn't. I wanted all those things and more....but now, I have a whole new spin on this. Aren't the most important things, love and nurturing and home and nourishment? I could have given her these. I could have been the one she called Mommy. My mom was a single mom and for me, that is partly why I chose to place. Not because I didn't think I could do it, but because I saw my mom struggle and that was hard for me to see. I didn't want to think of my first daughter being saddened by watching me struggle to take care of her. I wanted her to be a child and not "worry" about her mom having to work two jobs or split shifts to be able to keep a roof over her head or keep food on the table. I wanted her to have the peace of mind that I thought a child would have if he/she had two parents taking care of her. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hindsight is 20/20 they say, and they would be right. I now have the knowledge of a mother of three(four in my heart), to know that two parents does not mean a child will not worry about his/her parents and whatever hardships they have to endure. I know now that a child will always worry and be concerned about his/her parents...or parent, whatever the case may be. Life is not easy, for any of us, well.....for most of us. I made the choice I did out of love it is true, but that does not change the fact that had I known then what I know now.....maybe things would be different today. I may have been more likely to have kept my firstborn in my life and not just in my heart and memories. That said, she is and will always be my firstborn and part of my heart and soul. I pray that one day we will meet and I can hold her in my arms again. And if that day never comes, I will always have the memory of that sweet sleeping angel I held in my arms.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-6594190021659373480?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/6594190021659373480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=6594190021659373480' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/6594190021659373480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/6594190021659373480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/07/thoughts-of-yesterday.html' title='Thoughts of Yesterday'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Rqe42wA5_RI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Rg6JoEakBbs/s72-c/DSC00646.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-1032303880252775054</id><published>2007-07-05T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:51:44.579-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Angels in my Life'/><title type='text'>Some Hidden Secret?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro0qGf6zJ4I/AAAAAAAAABE/AL5OiGMV4GQ/s1600-h/DSC00686.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083765845506860930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro0qGf6zJ4I/AAAAAAAAABE/AL5OiGMV4GQ/s200/DSC00686.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro0pcv6zJ3I/AAAAAAAAAA8/NchLsfXpo7A/s1600-h/DSC00766.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083765128247322482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro0pcv6zJ3I/AAAAAAAAAA8/NchLsfXpo7A/s200/DSC00766.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro0pFP6zJ2I/AAAAAAAAAA0/KyAPTVR8jEg/s1600-h/DSC00767.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083764724520396642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro0pFP6zJ2I/AAAAAAAAAA0/KyAPTVR8jEg/s200/DSC00767.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I have a new found admiration for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SAHM's&lt;/span&gt;, after having been one for just over a year now. I had all these expectations, I thought it would be just like what you see on television. Somehow, I expected to be Supermom.....NOT! Oh heavens...how on earth do some mom's do this day in and day out and not go totally insane?? How do they change diapers, clean kids, cook, wash laundry, clean house(spotless!), and manage to get in a shower for themselves, read a book or just plain do anything that doesn't require Mr. Clean, a sponge, a dustpan and wipes and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;desitin&lt;/span&gt;??? On top of all this, they still manage to grocery shop and be PTA moms....co ordinate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;magnificent&lt;/span&gt; parties and maybe even have an at home business on the side...and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;unbelievably&lt;/span&gt; still be able to have a truly heartwarming fucking smile on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; face!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;You never see them yell at their kids, they say things like..."Michael, we don't hit our sister", or "Cindy, we don't throw"....and "Do we need a time out?" Can I throw up now?? I feel like I'm going insane, and I cannot seem to keep one room clean for longer than five minutes...much less an entire house. I spend my day mopping floors, cleaning clothes and dishes, picking up toys, only to turn around at the end of the day and it looks as if I sat on my couch watching soaps! Sometimes I feel like I need a straight jacket and a rubber room. People used to tell me all the time, "you should be a PTA mom", because I make my kids birthday cakes and because I sew &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; costumes for Halloween. Yeah RIGHT!!!! I can't even hardly manage to get a shower in, and heaven forbid I attempt to read a book. I cannot fathom setting up some school activity or hosting a school party....I'd have to be co ordinated and be able to function in a stressful setting...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; not something I'm capable of. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am not organised enough to plan something like that...my mom used to tell me, "I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached", how right she was! I love my kids, don't get me wrong, I love watching other peoples children. I have even gotten certified in CPR and First Aid. I am still trying to figure out how on earth to enjoy it and not lose my ever loving mind! I need some pointers, some glorious knowledge about being a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;SAHM&lt;/span&gt; that I am not aware of....I NEED DRUGS!!!! A PILL!!!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#339999;"&gt;Maybe one day I'll figure it all out, I'll find the secret to staying home and not wanting to tie all my kids up in one room and stick cotton in my ears :). Seriously....how do those mom's do it? They are MY IDOLS! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-1032303880252775054?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/1032303880252775054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=1032303880252775054' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1032303880252775054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/1032303880252775054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/07/some-hidden-secret.html' title='Some Hidden Secret?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro0qGf6zJ4I/AAAAAAAAABE/AL5OiGMV4GQ/s72-c/DSC00686.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-8038421930051825627</id><published>2007-07-03T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:52:27.558-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Knowledge or Hindsight?'/><title type='text'>What if....? The question most often asked, but rarely IF ever answered.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro1XRP6zJ9I/AAAAAAAAABs/egirJtv0-dI/s1600-h/angel.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083815508213704658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro1XRP6zJ9I/AAAAAAAAABs/egirJtv0-dI/s200/angel.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh to be young again, to go back and relive those carefree days of not having to be "responsible". No hard decisions to make, like whether or not to pay the phone bill this check or next or what food to put on the table to feed a family? For that matter, no worries about where that money or food will come from. IF I had only known at thirteen what I would experience at 14,15 and 16...maybe my choices might have been different. Now...here I sit some 20 something years later thinking...what if...??? What if that really cute boy hadn't moved onto my street, what if I had never tried beer...what if I'd never smoked cigarettes or tried pot? What if....and the biggest what if of all...what if I'd never given in to that cute boy when he asked me for sex?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A couple of facts to go along with the what ifs....I would not have had my "first love", I would not have done that horrible dreadful thing that no one talks of at the tender age of 15. I would not have been pregnant at 16 and an emotional wreck at 17, telling my firstborn daughter good bye forever. I would not be who I am today. My firstdaughter and all my children after, would probably not be here. For all the hardships...and for all the joys...there comes knowledge. Knowledge that moves us on to new lessons. What if I had not done the unspeakable at 15, would I have had a baby at 17? I can remember that day as vividly as the birth of all my babies...the horrible people with signs out front and the smell and the procedure, but most of all...the 30 yr old woman holding my hand in the recovery room, both of us crying and consoling each other. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Many times I have wondered...what if I had kept my firstdaughter, what would my life and her life be like today? On many an occasion, I prayed for GOD to give me a chance for a "do over", to change my mind. How many times I have re lived that day at the hospital watching the nurse taking her sleeping little body from my arms...telling her to grab the blanket I made her and the letter I wrote her, along with the teddy that my aunt had bought her. Being drowsy from the two valium my mom asked the nurse to give me and then still unable to keep from being hysterical and calling my mom begging her to come and get me. The hospital room filled with the memories of my precious little girl. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love my children and I love my life, I would love to see how some of those what if's might have changed my life, but not if it means losing what I have or who I am. Sometimes, we just have to live our lives the best we can and get past all the "what if's..".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-8038421930051825627?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/8038421930051825627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=8038421930051825627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8038421930051825627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/8038421930051825627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/07/what-if-question-most-often-asked-but.html' title='What if....? The question most often asked, but rarely IF ever answered.'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro1XRP6zJ9I/AAAAAAAAABs/egirJtv0-dI/s72-c/angel.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-3425304227920083106</id><published>2007-07-02T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:54:01.736-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life Happens'/><title type='text'>MOM</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082664980964386594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/RolA3v6zJyI/AAAAAAAAAAU/PaqjtytIWq4/s200/mommy3b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sorry....but this will be sad, don't go on if you don't want to cry!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I cannot believe it has been five years now, and I think of my mom as much today as I did the day she went away. I think overall, that out of all my siblings, I handled her passing pretty well. Funny, the things you think of at times like those, I was afraid her last thoughts would be that she was upset at the fact that it was my baby shower. Of course, I was concerned that instead of her going peacefully, that was what she worried about. I was pregnant with my first son and only weeks away from my delivery date. My mom had watched Katlyn from birth, I had such a rough pregnancy, it was nice to have at least the comfort of knowing my daughter was safe and well cared for. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now looking back, I see how easily it could have happened on a day when it was just my mom and Katlyn alone. That thought scared me tremendously. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I will never forget that day as long as I live. After speaking with my sister to let her know I was on my way, it was just a ten minute or so drive to my mom's. We turned on the street and saw the fire trucks and ambulance and I don't remember getting out of the car. I remember my sister looking pale and tears streaming down her face as I raced to the door as fast as my huge belly would let me. She said two words...forever etched in my mind "It's Mom..." I wish now that I could have held my composure more or had sense enough to have someone take Katlyn to another room, but all I could see was the men on the floor in the kitchen, surrounding my mom. They worked and worked on her, and then they put her on a stretcher and rushed her through the living room and toward the front door. In that split second, I grabbed her hand and sqeezed.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Although they were still working on her, I knew in my heart she was not with us anymore. I remember the officer holding me back....and I remember calling "mama" over and over...and then Katlyn with her arms wrapped around me telling me it'll be ok mommy. Just a few weeks later at the same hospital that my mom was brought to, I delivered my son. All the memories of my mom being there when I had my sonograms constantly going through my mind. The last day I saw her was the two days before the shower, at one of those visits, I knew she didn't look well but it was hot and she'd been driving around all day. Needless to say, I did not have my second son at that hospital and dread driving by there. I never thought I would be saving my maternity clothes, because I wore them to my mothers funeral. Anyhow, even though it's been this long, it still seems like yesterday. It's hard not to pick up the phone and call my mom when something funny happens with my kids or when something important happens in my life. It gets easier, but it never goes away.....I miss you mom as much today as the day you went away, I love you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mama&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Mama it's been so long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Sometimes it's hard to believe I haven't talked to you in almost a year now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I always think of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I can see you doing all of the little things you used to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I remember how you stayed up late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Drinking your cup of coffee and playing solitaire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I remember how you used one spoonfull and a half of sugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;And just a little cream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Funny the things you think of when someone is gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;The silly little things that make you cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;In the same instant make you smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I miss talking to you about the trials and accomplishments in my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I miss your words of encouragement&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;As well as your all knowing silence when you disapproved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I miss your upside down frown when you had just woken up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Or when you were deep in thought&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;There are so many things that I miss about you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I could never list them all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;It would take all the trees on Gods green earth to do this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;So I guess I'll just put down the most endearing to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Of all the things I miss about you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I miss the way you brightened up everyone's lives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;The way you brought out the goodness in all your children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;In how much you loved and were loved by your grandchildren&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Mama we love you dearly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Mama we miss you terribly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Mama we'll think of you always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Mama we will try to be what you hoped we could be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Mama I hope we make you proud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Goodnight Mama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Sweet Dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Written by Michelle N.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;June 20th 2003&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-3425304227920083106?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/3425304227920083106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=3425304227920083106' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3425304227920083106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/3425304227920083106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/07/mom.html' title='MOM'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/RolA3v6zJyI/AAAAAAAAAAU/PaqjtytIWq4/s72-c/mommy3b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5390992574710036072.post-4729741931554040093</id><published>2007-07-01T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:56:07.162-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Angels in my Life'/><title type='text'>And then there were three.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro1VB_6zJ7I/AAAAAAAAABc/ongE_hoN0gY/s1600-h/DSC00646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083813047197444018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro1VB_6zJ7I/AAAAAAAAABc/ongE_hoN0gY/s200/DSC00646.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro1VCP6zJ8I/AAAAAAAAABk/05xjiqxAi4o/s1600-h/Baby+Pics+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083813051492411330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro1VCP6zJ8I/AAAAAAAAABk/05xjiqxAi4o/s200/Baby+Pics+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Somewhere up in heaven my mother is looking down on me and laughing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hysterically&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Katlyn&lt;/span&gt; was a surprise, but after seven years we felt like it was a sign that we needed to take that next step. Travis, an even bigger surprise, but again a sign from above that we needed to get our shit together. Caleb, the biggest surprise of them all.....I had my girl, I had my boy....and now another boy makes three??? Maybe not like I had planned for it to happen, but they are here none the less, and I can't imagine my life without them.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My wishes were for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Katlyn&lt;/span&gt; and Travis to be just a few years apart, instead it ended up with a separation of six years.....oh the fights they have! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Katlyn&lt;/span&gt; was my easy, and uneventful pregnancy, minus the heartburn throughout, and the kidney stones at the very end. The induction went as planned and her birth was easy and fairly fast. Our little June bug was born at 3:45 P.M. on the afternoon of June 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, all 7lbs 4oz of her. A week overdue, but just as perfect as she could be. Travis on the other hand...was the first of two trying pregnancies. Sick from the start, the morning sickness was unbelievably bad. The heartburn was inevitable, and then to top it off I was diagnosed with having too much amniotic fluid. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then began at approximately five months the bi-weekly sonograms and visits with both the perinatal doctors as well as my regularly scheduled visits with my OB...:(. Never had I thought a pregnancy could make me so miserable, and the fact that he was born in the middle of one of the hottest months was no exception! Unfortunately, despite the pregnancy issues, I never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;envisioned&lt;/span&gt; the birth of my son without the support and comfort of my mother. She went to the heavens on the 22&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; of June, just weeks before my baby boy was to be born. It happened on what was supposed a special day, the day you celebrate the life of the little one to come, my baby shower. Travis was also an induction, but two weeks ahead of his due date, rather than after. This did not go as planned, with risks to his health rising with each contraction, he came into this world via emergency C-section. On 3:45 in the afternoon, July 15&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, came my 7lb 13oz little boy. With more hair than I could have ever imagined my child would have. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shock and amazement three years later, when that pregnancy test result came out positive! Wow....the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;roller coaster&lt;/span&gt; is in full swing...here we go again. All hopes for an easy pregnancy gone with the first bouts of morning sickness, even worse than what I had with Travis. I had not thought that would be possible, it required medication to help me eat :(. With worries of my pregnancy being as difficult as the last, my doctor informed me that there was a one in a ?? chance of me suffering with the excess fluid again. Guess what??? I was that ONE!!!! At approximately three months, here we go again. Sonograms every two weeks and visits with the OB right after. Although, other than the discomfort of being HUGE, I felt great. Then toward the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;eighth&lt;/span&gt; month, I found myself on bed rest. Oh wow...I had no idea how hard that would be! I thought sleeping all the time sounded wonderful, but it wasn't! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caleb was born via scheduled C-section one week early, even that didn't stop it from being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt; eventful! He was born at 8 am September 22&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;nd, all 8lbs 3oz, &lt;/span&gt;and spent six hours in the nursery because of breathing issues...then almost had a feeding tube because he wouldn't eat. THEN....we were informed by the pediatrician on call that he might have down syndrome....WOW....I was a wreck! Other than a high pallet, which made nursing almost impossible, and a tongue tie(??), as it turned out, he was and is a perfect little boy. And then there were three(in actuallity there were four, but that's another story...).....and I wouldn't trade any of them for anything in the world.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5390992574710036072-4729741931554040093?l=heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/feeds/4729741931554040093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5390992574710036072&amp;postID=4729741931554040093' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/4729741931554040093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5390992574710036072/posts/default/4729741931554040093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartstringsfromheaven.blogspot.com/2007/07/and-then-there-were-three.html' title='And then there were three.....'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09065736305421375324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/SKTa4crV7II/AAAAAAAAAC0/-de0VoL527Y/S220/me+april+08.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_co3a36mqsvo/Ro1VB_6zJ7I/AAAAAAAAABc/ongE_hoN0gY/s72-c/DSC00646.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
