tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42913038560346834752024-02-21T08:54:31.450-06:00Too Smart for Her Own GoodIntellectuals with a sense of humor wanted.Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-5735053006521245462019-06-20T06:19:00.000-05:002019-06-20T07:12:00.863-05:00A Dozen for You<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 19px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">Dear Littlest Son,</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">A Dozen, 12 years. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Happy 12th Birthday to you Karter! </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">I’m going to dive right in. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Momma misses you so much. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Life has been extremely trying these last 7-10 months. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>You know, you see it all. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There’s been many nights I swear I hear your voice but it’s always just a dream, unfortunately. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A lovely dream it it can be, though, my Son. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Momma has a few battles going on that aren’t the best but such is life. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>All I can do is take things one day at a time. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Just know that each and every one of those days I love you so very much! <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Happy birthday littlest Son. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">Dad is working hard as usual. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Only a few more years. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He’s doing great and striving for perfection in his career. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He loves and does his best to care for your Brothers and I. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He loves you lots. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Happy Birthday Son! </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">Your Brothers as you know are young men basically. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Oldest Brother is off to college in a couple months. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>You watch over Him, make sure he does great things as we think he will. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Middle Brother is so tall, I think he surpassed me. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>You should give him dreams on how to become a basketball star. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He’s smart as a whip. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Just like Oldest Brother and I’m positive you are. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>They love you. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I know they are so very curious, especially Middle Brother. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I answer all I can. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>They love you lots. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Happy Birthday to you Karter!</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">All those candles you boys have on birthday cakes, wowie! <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At least we’d get to start on your day and in 6 days Oldest Brother and 10 days after Middle Brother. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>We’d throw the best of parties if you were here just one more time. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Happy 12th Birthday Karter! </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">This year has been eventful I’ll say as much. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>We are trying very patiently to sell our Kansas home as Dad’s work changed. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>We all hated to say goodbye but it’s hopefully going to a wonderful set of folks who can fill it with as much love as we did. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Oldest Brother graduated from High School 6 months early, with honors. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He also got his first job. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Exciting times for Him. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Grandma and Grandpa H. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>helped Momma drive to California, was a good thing to see the west. California, not our favorite. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I know you’ve seen and heard Momma’s language trying to drive on the ...well, anywhere. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>We will get to the coast sooner than later I promise. Happy 12th Birthday Karter. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I love you. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>We love you.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">As you’re aware Grandma Lisa doesn’t have to read these letters anymore. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>She gets to spend the day with you feeding you cake and ice cream. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I’m sure you are most spoiled Grandson in the Universe, possibly. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I’m glad you have her. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Tell her we send our love, that we miss her. I’m sure she’s excited to spend another birthday with you. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>One here, one there. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>We love you! Happy birthday son.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">Karter, it’s once again that point where the tears I’ve held back are going to rain. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Oldest Brother and I have a flight this morning so we can get back to Dad and Middle Brother. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>You’re always with me, you give me strength in the darkest moments, I love you baby boy. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I do wish you were here to celebrate your day with but once in a lifetime on your actual birth day will have to work. Happy Birthday Karter! <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A thousand hugs for you! I love you, We love you.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">Until next year, I’ll be listening for your voice in my dreams. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">Love Always,</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 19pt;">Momma</span></div>
Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-56532625336474248652018-06-20T13:54:00.000-05:002018-06-20T15:26:30.374-05:0011, Eleven Years.Dear Littlest Son Karter,<br />
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Happy Eleventh Birthday to You! An angel you've been and will always be from now on in. It's ok, Momma is impatiently waiting to meet up with you in my later years. I envision us just running to each other maybe even knocking each other down when we finally get to that meeting point. We'd pick each other up, and you'd be able to tell me all about the Universe and all I'd been missing out on. Since that's a few years off, this is how I let you know I'm still here and always will be from here to eternity. <br />
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Happy 11th Birthday Karter! We love you. <br />
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I haven't held a baby since I've held you that last time, I don't know if I'll ever be able to again. It's a thought I often think about, so many people around us have or are going to have some beautiful babies and I just take a step back. It's not their fault NOR yours. I guess I meant it 11 years ago when I was thinking I didn't want to let you go. Maybe you're forever swaddled in my arms, even at age 11 lol. <br />
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Happy Birthday to You!<br />
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Chocolate or Vanilla? Your big brother Kalvin and your Uncle Trevor are the only two people I can think of who like vanilla over chocolate. On this, I'm just going to say you'd like vanilla too. Which is fine, I'd make you the loveliest vanilla/white cake I could and I'd lovingly place 11 candles upon it for you to blow out. We'd likely have Neapolitan ice cream though, just to appease everyone. Maybe we'd even have superhero themed plates, napkins, party hats, and balloons. Whatever your preferences we'd make it happen. It's a day of celebration, all about you, just like we try very much so for your brothers each year on their birthday's. Except... you aren't here. The only gift I can truly give you is my love, my letter. I love you Karter. We love you!<br />
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Happy Birthday Dear Karter!<br />
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Life is moving along down here. Momma is her usual in and out of the doctor's office self. Maybe one day things will be figured out. Daddy is working extremely hard, he does such a great job, I know you see this. He misses and loves you just as much as Momma does. Your Brothers are so big! Your oldest brother is a Senior in high school now, he's working hard toward college please guide him to the best choices and see him through. Your other brother is nearing 12 years old. Crazy when I think of it sometimes, how close in age you guys are...I wonder if you'd be in the same grade as him? He's well, he loves video games as I'm sure you know. Many, no, probably every time your Brothers go outside to play with one another I always hope for a second or two you'd come racing in with them telling me all about the latest adventure. You three young men are my strength, always will be.<br />
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Happy Birthday to You!<br />
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Momma will never forget you, your voice, your cries, the doctors working so hard to help you stay with us just one more minute, hour... Those sounds and images are still fresh upon my mind. However, the best sound was your voice as the doc pulled you from my womb. The best image was you're little face and giving you a tiny kiss. Your little hands and precious hair. Not to forget that nose just like Daddy's. You were a precious gift then and will be for always. <br />
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I love you Karter. We all love you littlest son, brother, grandson, nephew, cousin, friend...<br />
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Momma is now crying profusely and can barely see the screen, that's ok I know what I want to write even though it's extremely hard to. The part where I'll always love you, I miss you, you've given me such strength in times of difficulty. You are part of the light that keeps me grounded when all seems dark. You are Our very own angel. Our very own star out in that big bright Universe, shining down on us in the dark. I love you so much Karter, I miss you so much. I know you're always with me in my heart, I can still hear your little voice telling me "Momma, it's ok I'm right here..." <br />
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11, Eleven Years. <br />
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This might be a love song, but this rendition got me in the feels. To you dear son..<br />
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<a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6YB9M8aB6b8&feature=youtu.be">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6YB9M8aB6b8&feature=youtu.be</a>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-30556942167175495602017-06-20T16:33:00.000-05:002017-06-20T16:33:13.489-05:00A Decade of StrengthDear sweet son Karter,<br />
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I'm really at a loss this year. I'm swept up in a storm of emotions. Should I be happy, sad... judging by the ever persistet tears I seem to sweeping off my face I guess it could be all emotions. As you likely know, Dad is on his way home once more! In fact on your day it's kind of like a birthday celebration. I shouldn't have a bit of saddness should I? <br />
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From your point of view I'm sure you've seen what Momma has gone through this year. Lets just say I'm not getting any younger. You've been with me every step of the way, I promise. You gave me the gift of strength, a decade ago. Real strength to persist past even the most foul of things. I believe I have. So, thank you once again Son.<br />
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It's really hard for me to write today, because all I want is to see you come barreling through our door after playing outside. All I really want is to see you cuddle on the couch with Daisy. All I really want is to hear a tantrum you'd throw over something you didn't want to do. All I really want is to see you, as the ten year old Boy you've become today. <br />
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This is why the tears are falling. No matter how much I hope and wish you aren't here with us, physically. Maybe you're even screaming in my ear "Momma I'm right here don't cry..." but I cannot hear because you aren't here, physically. Heck, then again maybe those cries you let out a decade ago where just that "Momma I'm right here don't cry!" Maybe that's why your voice echoes so much from time to time, within me. And just now, as you as my witness I was able to stop crying. <br />
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Dear Karter, our now Ten year old son, thank you so much for that gift of strength. Today is your birthday, son. Ten tall candles on that birthday cake, double digits! What would you wish for? I can only imagine you'd want every set of legos ever made, 12 video games, and a drum set. Would you get all of that, nah, but we'd do our best. Your brothers would snag what they liked best and help you put the sets together, and then you guys could argue over who was second player in said video games. That's easy enough to see, lol. Dad and I would give you those parent hugs that you probably would be "too big" for, but Momma would hold you so tight and look into your blue eyes and tell you how much she loved you. You'd squirm to get away--ten year olds don't do that. ;) Happy Tenth Birthday Littlest Son, We Love You. <br />
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Here comes the part I dislike most, the end of this year's letter. I love you son. Thank you for giving me the strength that keeps me going when I want to stop. I hope you're enjoying things from above and liking hanging out with this year's loved ones passed. You keep a keen eye upon us and never be afraid to yell your loudest in my ear, when you think I need it most. I'll hear you. Thank you for AGAIN helping Dad home to Us. We are anxious to go pick him up later. However, don't worry the tears I'll be crying then are those of joy just to have him back to hold. Thank you Littlest Son. Happy Tenth Birthday! I love you, we love you, and miss you so very much. <br />
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As Ever,<br />
MommaToo Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-57783368569280884182016-06-20T10:27:00.001-05:002016-06-20T10:27:19.184-05:00Nine, Nine TimesI cannot read the past years' letters to Karter, only write todays. If I look too far back, I begin to devolve into a slobbery mess of tissues and tears. Welcome, thank you for reading it means the world. <br />
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Dear Karter,<br />
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Happy 9th Birthday to You! Nine times of birthday wishes. Nine times of taking time out of my day to share You with the world. You are worth every single word and so many more. I love you. We love you. <br />
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Last night your Middle Brother and I noticed a large amount of lightning bugs a float in our back yard. We haven't seen many here, until last night. It was a whimsical time of prancing through the yard on the hunt for lightning bugs. With mason jar in hand Middle Brother tried so very hard to make a catch. The sun had set long before so we were going on the last few minutes of dusk. We had fun. One of those rare occurrences in life where he and I got to do something "outdoorsy" and succeed at it. Our powers combined we caught one lightning bug! It was so tiny. Middle Brother sat and watched it in awe. I watched him in awe. Then outside I got real sad, really quick. Why, and why now?<span id="goog_1814102419"></span><br />
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The answer was about as blunt as a dump truck slamming into another dump truck, head on, full speed. Boom. <br />
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Karter, I just wished you were right there with Middle Brother attempting to catch those lightning bugs. Running though the yard, giggling, not caring about the dark of night. Maybe you were there. I can only hope, even if we can't see you maybe that why we finally caught one. <br />
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I've looked up a couple things on lightning bugs. They use their ability to flash to communicate with others and potential mates. They have bioluminescence in their bodies, which they can light up at will. How? Well that part is thought to be due to oxygen. Like breathing in or allowing it in some way. This last line got me when I read it... <br />
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"No oxygen, no light..." <br />
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Queue those tears because mine are a flowing. Your voice floods through my ears. Your beautiful little nose, tiny little fingers and toes. A kiss of both hello and goodbye. I really wasn't hoping it'd be a kiss for both. If I could've jumped off that operating table just to hold you longer, I would've. Your voice was so crystal clear, for a tiny bit. Yet like the lightning bug - no oxygen, no light. <br />
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If my magic wand were working you'd be here to help us find lightning bugs tonight. I'd be making you a cake with the number 9 candle, serving your favorite ice cream, and dinner menu of your choice. A few gifts. A birthday celebration that we won't be having, tonight. or ever.<br />
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My Dear Littlest Son, Karter, I love you. We love you. Watch us grow this year. Keep Daddy safe as always. Help your Big Brothers make good choices and put effort into the work they do. If you can, help my body to stop revolting against itself. I know you will be waiting, watching, maybe we are your lightning bugs... Maybe that's how you see us. If so, that's ok by me because I know what you are seeing is beauty, love, serenity. <br />
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I truly dislike this conclusion part of the letter. I love you Karter, We love you. Everyday. Forever. Thanks for coming into our lives with a voice not forgotten. Happy 9th Birthday. One year to double digits. I cannot believe how quickly time passes as we age. No matter what, no matter how many birthdays I write to you, you are still that intensely voiced little human being who was just, plainly, too bad ass for this world. So, until we meet again on that World of Bad Asses, I love you. I love you. I love you Karter. We love you Karter. Happy 9th Birthday! <br />
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<a href="https://answersingenesis.org/creepy-crawlies/insects/lightning-bugs-the-beetle-beacons/" target="_blank">Lightning Bug Article - If you feel like reading about them.</a>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-55612539205030666232015-09-14T08:54:00.001-05:002015-09-15T07:13:21.855-05:00The PreciousMeanwhile in Kansas...<br />
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It was this past Christmas and Smart Husband really, really wanted to buy me a new, shinier, bigger rocked, wedding set. I had been hearing before this though that this is what I deserved. I just am a Momma and Wife, always putting the Hubs and Sons ahead of myself. Days, weeks, months crept by with a wisp of winter and hope of spring. Then I relented.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OG engagement ring in box.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLu8-idyP4qKCoclLem-fdNHVcacplmWAxCujiSo8-zCjalf3PtAH9uKHqtc-S_UKkk641ONhYEZarKpJ0n1TTfZ0JBjov-xRtZczCJK2r17BZKdY4ea__QkN3Oq1-tBvMtPvgwTG5I_B1/s1600/IMG_4684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Backstory, it was hot summer back in whatever year it was we first crept onto the scene as a pair. He was leaving for Iraq, I was not. We were dirt poor, love rich. We both had emerald Ford Escorts with the combined mileage of roughly one million miles. Basically the engagement ring was worth a whopping 25 to 30 cents total, love rich. I think that it was entirely assembled from found bits on the ground and a grocery store vending machine. It's priceless now. It's traveled a few of those million miles and still resides with us at our home. <br />
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The wedding ring, circa 2004, my husband let me pick out was so beautiful to me. White gold and princess cuts. Later that year he picked the wedding band to go with. Perfectly mismatched. I loved it but he always wanted a bigger stone for me. Fast forward to him seeing a few PFC's wives with mortgages on their finger and still telling me that I deserved a bigger ring.<br />
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The ring my husband initially showed me was at a big box type jewelry store at a hefty price of $7000. SEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS. Ah, no Momma's got groceries to buy, a house to keep up, two boys who eat and grow and need things like you know dental visits... the ring idea was just too self centered for me. However, we discussed the possibility of a custom ring and it being a possibility IF a good price was attainable. <br />
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Being from a former small business owner's family, have friends with their own business, and my small time small dollar producing furniture restoration business I know the value of the dollar. I wanted to use a small business, local if possible. I knew I didn't want the status quo or a safe, normal ring created. A google search and a few positive reviews later I arrived at Vernon's Custom Jewelry, LLC in Junction City, Kansas. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3D0-gV6M3cO6uPLMT2SqZwPKCNhydiUuUBhJesvIp_C1tFLEHbxGDZRa8uFku8thilqcyn-LbYpInPzwnasYXGocbGbjAMKptCI9LwzeD-rcAyJdYextthctuRzefunbnkvRzxR1KmH72/s1600/IMG_3977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3D0-gV6M3cO6uPLMT2SqZwPKCNhydiUuUBhJesvIp_C1tFLEHbxGDZRa8uFku8thilqcyn-LbYpInPzwnasYXGocbGbjAMKptCI9LwzeD-rcAyJdYextthctuRzefunbnkvRzxR1KmH72/s200/IMG_3977.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First sketch.</td></tr>
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From moment one I was treated with respect and was given a variety of options. Of course, me and my complicated self couldn't find anything in their store to buy. When I mentioned the possibility of a custom piece the Store Owner Chris, sat down with me and discussed options. He drew a sketch of something he thought I may like based upon what I'd told him I thought I wanted. I was there maybe and hour and left with a sketch to take home to Smart Husband.<br />
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Smart Husband and I mulled over the options. Thought a bit and he countered with a drawing of his own. Masterfully creating a ring of the stones we had bought, been gifted, and inherited. Stones hundreds of thousands of years old and from half way across the globe. Love rich. This was what we took back to the Jeweler.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTVllCt8c9NsM78Wvhsv7CM06AZiVkXcg-PQ8v6S9Ulzf_M_nxKOKeZPr2k9wNMOzN8STNXsE6Yu04uy69j_8DS4CmyrLEHbeYGwzYGljmrO2ujTe158og0uIFdJgWBuV-LIO47wSRJhqh/s1600/IMG_4034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTVllCt8c9NsM78Wvhsv7CM06AZiVkXcg-PQ8v6S9Ulzf_M_nxKOKeZPr2k9wNMOzN8STNXsE6Yu04uy69j_8DS4CmyrLEHbeYGwzYGljmrO2ujTe158og0uIFdJgWBuV-LIO47wSRJhqh/s320/IMG_4034.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blueprint by Smart Husband!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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From the Smart Husband sketch the Jeweler sent measurements of all of the stones, this approximate sketch, and all other technical specs off to a CAD company. This took a large chunk of time but it was worth it when we saw the CAD model. Super unique, again love rich. We gave the "ok" to go ahead with casting the ring! <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGXcONamiXNDQBFzDE3PJ2Fvadv2sZD5Q0lmsxZGMeXuwKR9PUS3gPkPzHsUVdBhmIu7UeZ1BsXK1e9aSCNvbrIO1UqJ5EYtpMbVf8F5w-RNzRLRPEywaxm6cu9Tw0IrHOThUn0TEzWDl/s1600/IMG_4207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGXcONamiXNDQBFzDE3PJ2Fvadv2sZD5Q0lmsxZGMeXuwKR9PUS3gPkPzHsUVdBhmIu7UeZ1BsXK1e9aSCNvbrIO1UqJ5EYtpMbVf8F5w-RNzRLRPEywaxm6cu9Tw0IrHOThUn0TEzWDl/s320/IMG_4207.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CAD work of up the Precious.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Once the ring was cast the rest was history. Ok, not exactly that quick. Chris, the Jeweler, had never seen a "princess cut halo" let alone ever assembled one. Have we seen this type of halo since? Nope, but we're willing to start the trend! After hard work and dedication the Jeweler worked his magic and master his craft. The precious was done. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhctDl_wcyhywf4ajLGVUhgm0W96seYusB7thc4Eo_7UbgQ61BJ3ogb2ggoV5zcBPNVzA0Gzz1dcrD0YElS0h8GvfCupPJ_WkgUbrZvRQHnlT7PqboOHQAfj5ihYuN3sD2i27GVCEE1GIkP/s1600/IMG_4605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhctDl_wcyhywf4ajLGVUhgm0W96seYusB7thc4Eo_7UbgQ61BJ3ogb2ggoV5zcBPNVzA0Gzz1dcrD0YElS0h8GvfCupPJ_WkgUbrZvRQHnlT7PqboOHQAfj5ihYuN3sD2i27GVCEE1GIkP/s320/IMG_4605.JPG" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sides are set. So close!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Love rich, Smart Husband and I ran uptown to see the amalgamation of not only metal and precious stones but love and time. Stones from Grandparents, Parents, In-laws, my Husband. Love rich, the Precious was done and it is BEAUTIFUL! We cannot say thank you and give high enough praise to the Jeweler. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnxSEuD64Q8O99tvfrv2G4G3BwyMB328hXCUDpBYNVC5MttnYy-xuZuuVgTeE-DZEIXgnvMqa9wvW2jt1uCa1q67gkaQNWbP743FAGDPC2OATe70MAwV_sB2NATVvjix4o_6j_L2s0qPaZ/s1600/IMG_4678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnxSEuD64Q8O99tvfrv2G4G3BwyMB328hXCUDpBYNVC5MttnYy-xuZuuVgTeE-DZEIXgnvMqa9wvW2jt1uCa1q67gkaQNWbP743FAGDPC2OATe70MAwV_sB2NATVvjix4o_6j_L2s0qPaZ/s320/IMG_4678.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too Smart has her ring!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
If you happen to be love rich, time rich, thought rich, and would like to dream up your own custom piece, do so. The sky is the limit especially with the best Jeweler in the land! Fly in, road trip, send your items, whatever the case please consider Vernon's Custom Jewelry, LLC in Junction City Kansas to make your vision a reality. If it's not custom then they have lots of awesome items that may be what you need. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Vernon's Custom Jewelry, LLC</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">716 N. Washington St.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Junction City, KS 66441</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">(785) 223-5999</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://vernonscj.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Vernon's Custom Jewelry Website</span></a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/vernonscj" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Vernon's Custom Jewelry Facebook Page</span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://twitter.com/vernonscj" target="_blank">Vernon's Custom Jewelry Twitter </a></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrto436CLbFBS2z-aFz2_45TMpWhG_G3ww0kVPx-TqI2ruKcam6QXgIcVseVeVYVZ_GQgwOVKbApb0v01n2LO-0BWMYbEBkfL_dPaVj2-4w9AVYtJDCRxY8AOYvIV-kUcdZNRmuX4G7YN3/s1600/IMG_4685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrto436CLbFBS2z-aFz2_45TMpWhG_G3ww0kVPx-TqI2ruKcam6QXgIcVseVeVYVZ_GQgwOVKbApb0v01n2LO-0BWMYbEBkfL_dPaVj2-4w9AVYtJDCRxY8AOYvIV-kUcdZNRmuX4G7YN3/s320/IMG_4685.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close up of the Precious. Thank you!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>--Thank you to my Husband, my Parents, Grandparents, In Laws, and to the Jeweler. With out you, your love, your contributions this would still be a dream. </i><br />
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<br />Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-32891255637123608332015-06-20T09:03:00.000-05:002015-06-20T09:34:28.837-05:00Great 8Dearest Karter,<br />
<br />
When I write "Great 8" in no way to I mean this is a Great event but definitely an event in our hearts. <br />
<br />
Happy 8th Birthday Littlest Son!<br />
<br />
The world was just to small of a place for you, you decided to exit upon entry. Sounds like some space stuff. Maybe the basis of the real life Interstellar. Better get our watches on because I'd love to hear from you across space and time. I'll wait my turn as I can still hear that big roaring voice of yours like it was yesterday. <br />
<br />
My heart, our hearts, is always a bit heavier on this day. Instead of planning a small birthday party I gather the courage to write you another letter. Lucky you, I'd rather write than plan anything social. How well you know your Momma. ;)<br />
<br />
Emoticons aside I wish to get to the celebrating you part.<br />
<br />
Eight years. Eight. Years. Tears well up in my eyes when I read that. Eight years we've been apart. Eight years old you are today. Eight years you've been gone. Gone. Eight years old. <br />
<br />
No video games to be had. No lego sets to search four different stores for. No exclusive t-shirt with a famous game logo emblazoned upon it. No gifts. Instead, you my Son give us a gift every single year on your birthday. <br />
<br />
Momma has said it before that strength is the gift you've given me, year in and year out. The strength of a million oxen. The strength of Hercules. The strength to perceiver when sometimes it seems much easier to give in. The strength to be Me and realize that despite it all I am able. Strength to teach your Brothers life lessons. The strength to make it through the times Dad is gone away on official business. <br />
<br />
Just yesterday big Brother and I were discussing you. He asked questions to which I answered as best as I could. <br />
<br />
He asked "why did this happen to Karter?" <br />
<br />
I replied with "it just did." <br />
<br />
He then asked "are there others like him and did they survive?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, but generally they need at least one if not two kidney transplants almost right out of the womb. We didn't want to put him through that, we couldn't. "<br />
<br />
"Why Mom?"<br />
<br />
"Two reasons. One, the reason his kidneys weren't developing on time was because there was little to no amniotic fluid. We couldn't have a procedure done that would allow for more fluid, more lung development, because it was too risky for him and I. Second, it takes years to get one kidney who knows how long it'd take to get two. It would require a lot of pain and suffering for all of us. "<br />
<br />
Your Brother then sort of nodded as if he understood the master plan. Did he realize that I felt so sad yet so proud in that moment that I could both explain in an adult vernacular to him and FEEL every word I said to him. Proud because he asked more adult questions. I told him the odds of having what you did were very small. Maybe a few hundred people in the world have it. Funny that just earlier he was asking me about playing the lottery and the odds of winning it. Maybe we already had. <br />
<br />
A few long seconds passed, maybe minutes and he said to me "I just wish I was a big brother." <br />
<br />
At this point I was unraveling on the inside. I told him with great strength and no tears "Oh, but you are a big brother." He sort of had a half smile. <br />
<br />
Why on Earth am I including this? You were probably right there. <br />
<br />
Eight years old to your big Brother's nearly 9 to your even bigger Brother's nearly 15. I love each of you equally and differently. Thank you for gracing us with your short life. Thanks for being a little Brother. They grow by leaps and bounds every single day and I'm sure you are right there with them. Eight years old, I wonder what your biggest wish for this year would be as you blew out the candles. <br />
<br />
We love you. We miss you. We think of you randomly but maybe not so randomly. Happy Birthday Littlest Son and Brother. Momma, Dad, and your Brothers love you. We miss you. I didn't make it through this years letter tear free. In fact, I really need a tissue. As much as I do NOT want to leave you, do NOT want to stop writing to you, I must. I will keep your memory until my days are over, until we meet again. <br />
<br />
Until then Karter I love you, I miss you, you are always with me. Happy 8th Birthday! <br />
<br />
Love,<br />
<br />
Momma<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuT4UznJI9C2tpGZxoAyCII04rAvEswaByD1Swwz_0pJrkRF-nWsWbGJi-2moL4vyVIomEFpbS8mXxUW7Pk-Pg94z-9ilbyi7hXvX4rboORPZENhjk5Jg2-VWVulmfyOoaj_4oiJt-bXQ/s1600/IMG_4412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuT4UznJI9C2tpGZxoAyCII04rAvEswaByD1Swwz_0pJrkRF-nWsWbGJi-2moL4vyVIomEFpbS8mXxUW7Pk-Pg94z-9ilbyi7hXvX4rboORPZENhjk5Jg2-VWVulmfyOoaj_4oiJt-bXQ/s320/IMG_4412.JPG" title="Happy Birthday" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-52346738386670270462014-06-20T10:43:00.001-05:002014-06-20T10:43:48.555-05:00Lucky 7Dear Sweet Karter,<br />
<br />
Again I write as I promised I always would once yearly upon your day of entry to life and exit to the unknown. <br />
<br />
As you can tell, we are in homeless once again. Seems our tri-yearly, mandatory move always falls upon Your birthday or your Brothers' birthdays. That's ok, Dad and I are trained professionals in the way of preparing for birthdays on the fly, Army moves, and other such fly by night/by the seat of your pants occasions. We have landed gracefully upon Kansas soil. Our temporary home (as you can see) is a historic flat, this building was the 1st EVER Fort Riley Post Exchange. Many have passed through these doors, the old souls here have probably cried a few tears here as well not unlike your emotional Momma. <br />
<br />
My lucky number has always been 7. Dad and I were married on the 7th. Kalvin was born in the 7th month. Our last two address' have had two 7's in them. Along with other random tid bits of 7 throughout my life.<br />
<br />
Today is your 7th birthday, Happy Birthday Littlest Son!<br />
<br />
Momma hopes beyond hope that this year, your 7th year, will bring us good fortune, good health, and good times. I need you now more than ever, Karter. I need you to give me that strength you blessed me with. I need that strength to get through the gauntlet of health issues without giving up. I love you Littlest Son but I don't want to leave behind Dad and your big brothers anytime soon. As much as I'd like to be reunited with you, I'm very much so needed here. Please return the strength you've given me to fight for my rights as a patient, as a woman, and as chronically ill person. Thank you, Littlest Son. <br />
<br />
Happy 7th Birthday, Karter! We love you.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
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Dad is still doing a great job in the Army. I may be a bit biased but that's because I love him. His job has brought us here to Kansas, where we hope to settle for more than 3 years. Your Brothers are well, happy, and tall as weeds. I know you are with them always, helping protect them from the harsh ways of Earth. I know you are with them when they build hide outs in the woods, when they throw every single Lego on the floor to sort through them to build the next holy grail, and when they sleep at night and have those not so nice dreams. Thank you for keeping watch over Dad and Brothers. <br />
<br />
Your 7th year, 7 years with you in our hearts. We love and miss you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7rRinwO-FcZYc-BI-h58LV8W-s-Uci-1svJeKLlR7bYP7mkXbj_Ya22n6ITnBliZA2rIGrMU1VXXkJkXnWNsAm86PRPxuiajIzIcxpNk98akOSSu2re5Hf-GHsxhCU_iMEG5kXZP9kXQj/s1600/guardian+angel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7rRinwO-FcZYc-BI-h58LV8W-s-Uci-1svJeKLlR7bYP7mkXbj_Ya22n6ITnBliZA2rIGrMU1VXXkJkXnWNsAm86PRPxuiajIzIcxpNk98akOSSu2re5Hf-GHsxhCU_iMEG5kXZP9kXQj/s1600/guardian+angel.jpg" height="200" width="141" /></a></div>
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This year has brought us loss and grief. I take comfort in knowing you are there to usher in our family members to the afterlife. I'm glad you finally get to meet them. If you could, please relay these messages to them. To Aunt Cindy, thank you for being a amazing role model as a strong woman, for showing me creativity is beautiful, and I love you. To Grandma Lola, thank you for always being a ray of sunshine and full of love, every time I see a butterfly or cardinal I think of you. Thank you and I love you. To Grandpa Gradolph, thank you for spoiling me rotten in my early years, for taking me on my first plane ride, and for affording me the privilege of living in the Bahamas, I love you. I learned a valuable lesson this year which was to always tell those you love how much they mean to you. We never know when the last time will actually be the last. <br />
<br />
I love you, Karter. Happy Birthday. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
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With tears a streaming down my face, it's time to bid you adieu once again. It's not really good bye but a pause until I think of you again. Thank you Karter for gracing us with your short life. Thank you Karter for giving me strength that I often forget I have. Thank you Karter for giving me hope beyond what I can see. Thank you Karter for being our Son, our Brother, our Grandson, our Nephew, our Cousin. Thank you. We love you and we miss you dearly. I love you and miss you dearly. I love you. Until the 8th...<br />
<br />
Love Always,<br />
MommaToo Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-55993693759810152352013-10-22T11:03:00.003-05:002013-10-22T11:05:06.445-05:00Free Money!! $50!!Hello Smarties,<br />
<br />
Capital One 360 is offering a $50 dollar bonus to new members opening accounts. Click the link below to help me out, then once you have your account you can have your own refer a friend link which could earn you up to $1000! I opened a free 360 checking account with a minimal amount of money. I've made my three purchases and on day 50, will have $50 deposited to the account. I spent less than $10 btw, it can be 3 purchases for $1 each. Just make sure it's three separate transactions with your new debit card. <br />
<br />
Here's the link: <a href="https://r.capitalone360.com/BgsWEmv91Q" target="_blank">Help Too Smart and earn Free Money! </a><br />
<br />
Thanks Smarties!! Remember I do not get paid for what I write at least not yet this is a great way to say thanks! <br />
<br />
<br />Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-12050481088704113222013-10-05T00:59:00.001-05:002013-10-05T00:59:29.384-05:00Too Smart for Her Own GOODS! Dearest Smarties,<br />
<br />
Since the beginning of the blog I've used this as an outlet to rant, rave, laugh, and distract. Recently I discovered a new love. I swear, rant, rave, sometimes laugh, and distract myself from my pain. This new love is refinishing and/or refurbishing furniture pieces and various wooden items. <br />
<br />
I had taken a very long break from writing. A few health issues appeared so graciously and took over my life. My mind was hostage to my illness. Therefore throwing up the good ol writer's block. Smarties, thanks for sticking around by following here and keeping the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TooSmartForHerOwnGood" target="_blank">Facebook</a> page liked. I was and still am pretty darn active on <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/tsfhog" target="_blank">Pinterest</a>, it's mindless enough. Oh hey also you can find me on <a href="http://instagram.com/toosmartforherowngood" target="_blank">Instagram</a>, a newer venture I decided to take the leap into this summer.<br />
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Earlier this year, in January I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. I've been in pain for many years, after crippling headaches that lasted for much longer than a month I was given a battery of tests. Good news...it's ONLY fibromyalgia said the Neurologist. He sent me on my way saying there was nothing more he could do for me. Hmm, ok. Back to the Primary doc at our lovely Army clinic. He sent me off to a slew of specialists. All of which seemed to not know how to help me or made things much worse. It wasn't until about August I finally said screw it all, screw the meds that don't work I have to help ME. No doctor seemed caring enough to want to help or believe what I was telling them. Around this time I found a cheap and battered dresser online, bought it, and refinished/painted it. It was for my youngest Smart boy. It turned our great and it's Super Mario Brothers themed complete with chalk board drawer faces so that Smart boy may draw his own "levels." It brought me great joy being able to work with my hands to make something we both loved. While the Mario Dresser was being born I realized that I really liked what I was doing and it distracted me just enough from my pain that I felt "better" while working.<br />
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And so Too Smart for Her Own Goods was born. I scoured our local online sites for worthy furniture items that I may take the plunge with. I've collected a few pieces. Some really cute ones but the first lesson I learned was a vexing one. ALWAYS inspect the items before your load them up and pay. Two items I bought from a person were photographed in such a way that online they looked great! Cute vintage features and all. Well, I didn't sift through them with a fine tooth comb before having the young man load them into my vehicle. Get them home, unload, and see that it seems a pet dog used one of the legs as a chew toy. Awesome! The pair of end tables will most likely just be one. Smart hubs is helping me with those. They were photographed to showcase their unique cut out designs that were slats. Guess what? Yes, those beautifully photographed slats pretty much disintegrated upon first touch on one of the tables. MEH! Since then I've bought 3 more items, all in MUCH better condition. <br />
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Which brings me to my very first finished piece! A very cute and comfy accent chair fit for any home. She's also my first item in my<a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/TooSmart4HerOwnGoods" target="_blank"> Etsy shop</a>! Cool, right? So send your friends, neighbors, and wealthy onlookers over! I am in the process of finishing up another chair like this one but in a different color/fabric. Then onto the rest of the items. So, come by the shop often to see what I have available! <br />
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Thanks Smarties for sticking with me through the long pause. I hope to be writing more and owning my new venture in life. I plan to fill you in every step of the way, whether you like it or not. Hehe. Let me know what you think of the chair, I welcome ALL comments, questions, and even constructive criticisms. I'm new to this so everything helps. Thanks again Smarties! Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-30656956470466103712013-09-27T18:23:00.004-05:002013-09-27T18:23:42.398-05:00Good Morning, JensenStressful morning? Kids got ya going and you are screaming to get them into the grocery getter so that they may make it to school on time? Well I have just the stress reliever for you and it isn't coffee, though, it may be taken with coffee...or any drink you prefer.<br />
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Dispense Daily as Needed for Stress Relief:<br />
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Other bloggers have affinities for certain celebs. <a href="http://www.peopleiwanttopunchinthethroat.com/2012/02/for-my-secret-valentine.html" target="_blank">Throat Punch's</a> Tina Fey and <a href="http://youknowithappensatyourhousetoo.com/johnny-depp-party-of-two-your-table-is-ready/" target="_blank">YKIHAYHT's</a> Johnny come to mind, I'm sure there are more like these ladies and myself. I've figured out after months of silence on the blogwaves that my celebricrush is that of <b>Mr. Jensen Ackles</b>.<br />
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If I wasn't such a geek maybe I'd never have came upon this modern day Adonis. Jensen is an actor in the TV series Supernatural on the CW. Jensen plays Dean Winchester along side another worthy stress reliever Jared Padalecki, aka Sam Winchester. Nearing 9 long years of stress relief in the form of man meat, amazing green eyes, eyelashes to make women jealous, so on and so forth. Stress relief, yes that's what I call it...tehee/schoolgirl giggles. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jared and Jensen /swoon</td></tr>
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Did I mention Jensen seems to have quite the sense of humor? I'm sure that when he reads this he'll giggle to himself...because like Throat Punch, I hope my celebricrush Is scouring blogs to find mention of him and will most definitely reply to me in the form of humor or song. This little outtake solidified the stress relief and full blown obsession. Check it out: <br />
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Still not convinced he's "the one?" I'm not sure how else to convince you. Maybe you need to marathon all seasons of Supernatural on Netflix this weekend. Hurry though because Season 9 is fast approaching. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, how can you not deem this amazing? </td></tr>
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Ladies, gents, and in betweens...if you happen to run across Jensen tell him Too Smart needs him. Ask him to drop me a line, send me a text, <a href="http://instagram.com/toosmartforherowngood/" target="_blank">My Instagram</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/2smart4hergood" target="_blank">Tweet me</a> (ok he doesn't have twitter), etc. I'm hip, I'm cool...I have a son we can work out an arranged marriage between his Lil J.J. and My Smart boy. In any event, I think it's time I stopped the writer's block. Thanks Jensen, thanks for the stress relief. Wink wink. CREEPY...MAYBE?!<br />
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Jensen, call me maybe? <br />
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Ok Smarties, I'm out. /swoonToo Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-12410996173035743702013-06-20T21:17:00.002-05:002013-06-21T09:53:34.846-05:00SixthDearest Karter,<br>
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My littlest son, it is again your birthday. Your first and last 6th birthday to be exact. I love and miss you so very much. I know that you are being taken care by Judy, I know she's there with you today. I believe she's playing with you as she did Momma and your Uncles so long ago. I'm sure you are celebrating with Lucy, Grandpas', and Grandmas' as well. Don't worry, we would've made the biggest cake and had the best ice cream if you were here with us today. <br>
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I love and miss you.<br>
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Not a whole lot has changed since your last birthday. We haven't moved, changed schools, or traveled very far. Ok, maybe a bit has changed. Your brothers are so TALL. Momma needs to put bricks on their heads. Dad and I think they are going to be very tall. They are both so smart as I'm sure you would be too. They obsess over video games but Momma does not mind as long as their work is done. Daddy is half the world away once more in our lives. He's stayed safe, kept fairly busy, and is always talking to us. I'm sure you are watching over him, thank you Karter. We also have a new addition to our family her name is Daisy. She's a beagle. She is hyper as all get out but Momma loves her all the same.<br>
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We love and miss you.<br>
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Momma is doing ok. I'm sure that you are watching over me as well. Momma has been through a couple operations and diagnosed with a couple painful things. I have done the best I can to just plain survive. I'm still adjusting to this normal I must face. Luckily, I was given a wonderful Son like you who has shown me how strong I can be. Not everyday is perfect but I'm still living. I doubt my strength sometimes, then I remember that gift of strength you've given me. Thank you Karter. <br>
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I love and miss you.<br>
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I thought about you from sun up until sundown and more. I think about you everyday or am reminded of you. Your Brothers talk about you often. I think they think of you just as often. Big Brother wishes you were here while Biggest Brother is away for the summer so he'd have someone to play with. Well littlest son, it's that time. The time I hate most and the time that brings tears to my eyes. The time to tell you that I will talk to you next birthday. Lucky number 7 next year. I love you, we love you, keep watching over us. <br>
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Love you,<br>
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MommaToo Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-4133924968396577152012-09-18T09:48:00.001-05:002012-09-18T12:25:58.621-05:00Helloooo, Anybody there? Six weeks and counting since I've written anything on Ye Ol' Blog, embarrassing. How dare I call myself an amateur writer and humorist? Writer's block, I've had a severe case of it. <br />
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The Smart Boys started back to school. They seem to be handling their new teachers and accepting new friends into their lives. The thing I dislike most about them going to school is me having to haul their little butts to and from their school. We live just outside of the district lines so we have to provide our own transportation. Going to school isn't the issue.<br />
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The problem lies in the afternoon pick up which is an absolute cluster F of epic proportions. School lets out at approximately 310pm. If I want to get the Smart Boys picked up and home by DINNER TIME I have to get out to the school by 230pm, line up (as if a funeral procession,) and patiently wait. I bring my water, protein bar, iPad, and phone to keep my busy and hydrated. Some days aren't so bad but others feel like time will never move on.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minus flashing lights and Hearse.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seems Legit...</td></tr>
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FINALLY, the wait is over and I see brake lights coming on in front of me. These flashes of red light mean it's time for the procession of picking up our little angels. Angels, this term is laughable when describing the Smart Boys but hey the other kids I'm <i>sure</i> are perfect. Back to the scene... One by one our vehicles inch ahead to pick up our kids one car load at a time. I can't describe how they know which car belongs to which kid because if I did I'd be violating security protocol. I want NO petterass picking up my kids in a scary van.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYABTXBEHTGKM6b3tidPSEvwY7Lm3NbGlMFMKG9y1AnlUHlg44qmZIDq9MjAO8tQwVBTELgzX2fCKIsMBue-qA7kMKAPBsmGXeuGGiDvKhbCVGVTfYYhmxOyLcYmWP5OzZbuAJ8l67G1r/s1600/cracker_jack_called_they_want_your_license_back_bumper_sticker-p128798916911595864en8ys_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYABTXBEHTGKM6b3tidPSEvwY7Lm3NbGlMFMKG9y1AnlUHlg44qmZIDq9MjAO8tQwVBTELgzX2fCKIsMBue-qA7kMKAPBsmGXeuGGiDvKhbCVGVTfYYhmxOyLcYmWP5OzZbuAJ8l67G1r/s200/cracker_jack_called_they_want_your_license_back_bumper_sticker-p128798916911595864en8ys_400.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
Smart Boys enter the vehicle, usually as slow as possible. The door slams and we're off. Another school day complete! BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!! I still have to navigate my way out of the parking lot. This involves a bit of hell/toe action, evasive maneuvering, and sometimes standing on brakes. I'm not entirely sure where these parents got their driver's licenses but I'm quite sure it was a Cracker Jack box. We have to make the mad dash home, 7 miles of pure adrenaline. What adrenaline rush doesn't include being tailgated by the Cracker Jack parade?<br />
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Enter the house. As I rush to the latrine the boys are busy depositing their backpacks, papers, jackets, and shoes where ever they'd like usually in a direct path of walking. Homework, check homework, start dinner, eat dinner, do dishes, and so on. /End Scene.<br />
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Moral of the story? Thank your damn bus driver! Those of you who are fortunate enough to have bus services, ENJOY IT! That and I'll be applying for a chauffeur license. Doesn't it suck that I can't put this driving service on a resume detailing my safe driving skills all while volunteering?! Ah the endless joys of Motherhood. =) Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-88214811845918377762012-08-05T10:53:00.002-05:002012-08-05T10:53:38.839-05:00Shit I Hate Sunday...I found an awesome blogger this week who incidentally happens to be an Army wife too! She's not for the faint of heart but I find her pretty gd hilarious. <a href="http://thisbitchrocks.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Rockin' Mama</a> is hosting a Sunday link up entitled Shit I Hate Sundays. So I'm giving it a whirl. <br />
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Shit I Hate - Sunday, seriously least favorite day of the week. <br />
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Shit I Hate - That Mad Men isn't on year round, I know right First World Problems. <br />
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Shit I Hate - I'm a self proclaimed lover of all things video game. However, I'm thinking my son is developing an unhealthy kinship with Bowser, the bad guy from all Mario games. <br />
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Shit I Hate - Netflix. I spent nearly 45 minutes last night just trying to find something that's suitable to watch. Why in the hell do I pay for this crap anymore?<br />
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Shit I Hate - Not being able to enjoy my morning cup of joe!<br />
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Shit I Hate - Those LAZY ASS turds at the mart who cannot put the cart away, thanks for the dings jackholes! <br />
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Shit I Hate - Living in such a small town/area that when my mother-in-law is visiting and sick there are no Urgent Care places to visit. What a sham! <br />
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I won't go on...believe me there's nothing I like to do more than bitch, says Smart Hubs.Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-60506238999810019002012-08-02T11:42:00.000-05:002012-08-02T16:09:51.046-05:00Winning Gold in Pain Med OlympicsMy dear Smarties, it's been awhile since I had a real post. I do apologize but thank you for being patient with me through the dull summer months! Everything is returning to semi normal at the Smart household.<br />
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I had surgery in late June. Since then I've been in a Vicodin infused haze. More like syrup of the gods haze since I had the liquid version. Might I add that it took hold much faster than the usual pill form. Now that I have all of you addicts, former addicts, and future addicts foaming at the mouth this is the part where I tell you the script has run dry. It's a good thing since it totally gave me writer's block and I can really see how some folks become addicted so easily.<br />
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Things that<b> DO</b> stick out from the last few weeks of my recovery:<br />
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Smart hubs left for more Army schooling in early July, the good news is he will be back at the end of this month and is still in country. He hasn't been away this long in quite sometime, I'll be honest it's been sort of nice yet when I hear ANYONE complaining in the civilian world about missing their significant other after one night apart...well I'd like to slap them with a 2X4. When I say it's sort of nice that he's gone, I mean that it's nice knowing when he'll be back and that I know he's safe/not in a warzone.<br />
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My son had his 6th birthday, yay! 6 years of him not sleeping like a normal person, playing the family role of Drama Queen/King, and being just as awesome as his mother. It was a good day, I got sick on a piece of his ice cream cake but damn it was worth it! If he gets anymore Batman stuff, I may <i>accidentally</i> lose some of it. His room looks like a mock up of Gotham City. You can imagine the discussion I had with him over TDKR shootings in Aurora, CO. He was worried because he knew his Dad wanted to see the film. In short, he's pacified and I don't believe he's scared of entering a movie theater. Although as reassurance I told him I'd wait until TDKR came out on DVD so we wouldn't have to worry. He's ok with it...me with my love of Superheroes, not so much.<br />
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I started exercising again. Yea that's right Too Smart can do it! I take an evening jaunt around our neighborhood with our dog Lucy in tow. It gets really hot, I'm usually drenched in sweat, and Lucy usually drinks two bowls of water when we're done. It's worth it though as I'm seeing great results thus far. Oh yea, recovery, I'm doing ok not off all restrictions yet but a couple more weeks and I'll be whole again.<br />
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The Olympics. Namely the opening ceremony. I missed the Beijing ceremonies so I thought I'd watch the London ceremonies. There were some things that really made me snicker. The Queen dropping from a helicopter, really? OK, she's a good sport. The Deaf Children singing God Save the Queen, well my husband and I both heard a few off key kids but overall it was alright but did you see the close up of the Queen's face during that? She look liked she was constipated and in dire need of a laxative or she was thinking the same thoughts I was...which weren't politically correct enough for me to write here. Overall I've been trying to avoid Olympic spoilers but it's definitely hard to do. Oh, and my favorite event thus far...Micheal Phelp's Mom's early reaction. Bahaha. GOLD right there. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not really a Dragonball Z fan but this was hilarious. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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All in all I'm back and off the sauce. It's been a nice warm haze but it's time to get things back in order. Besides, the Smart Boys are almost back in school! YESSSS, I mean....awe I'm so distraught whatever shall I do? Oh yea, more blogging time! See you kids around.Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-76990282463170966102012-07-19T23:08:00.002-05:002012-07-19T23:08:47.257-05:00Liebster Numero DosI'd like to thank the Academy, it's been a long hard film..../wakes up from random movie star filled dream, don't mind the drool you're imagining on my pillow. <br />
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Once again Ladies and Gents I've been nominated for a Liebster Award. This time by <a href="http://www.momfiatees.com/index.html" target="_blank">Momfia Tees</a>! What a great honor this truly is. I'm not sure how this works the second time around but I shall try my best to get the job done. Read on Smarties what will you find about me this time? Muahaha. <br />
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<b><u>Here are the rules for the Liebster:</u></b> <br />
*Post 11 random facts about yourself. <br />
*Choose 11 deserving bloggers and tag them in your post. <br />
*Tell them you’ve tagged them. <br />
*Answer 11 questions the tagger has asked you, and give 11 questions to the people you’ve tagged. <br />
*No tag backs.<br />
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<u><b> RANDOM STUFF ABOUT ME</b></u><br />
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1. I really want a Starbucks Frappucino right now.<br />
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2. I'd really like a full on tasty cup of coffee filled with caffeine, cream, and actual sugar.<br />
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3. I'm beginning to think I'm going through real coffee withdrawals, someone help me please!<br />
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4. Too Smart why don't you just drink a cup of Joe? Well I'll tell you adoring Smarties, repercussions of my surgery...decaf ONLY, sugar free, no cream.<br />
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5. Well you know what they say Too Smart, once you go black...you never go back. WRONG, just wrong bring me that smooth cup of Joe I'm accustomed to.<br />
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6. Tired of me rambling on about coffee? Good, because I'm not.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEuoyLdH1mbfo79JoWqav5-55c6SPRKOZHWAjTAS1BJkYhMELWEEIcLrIl0hLVpVgwuEKJagSS5J3epitZy1F-SO2g-6cJ3FOaYN4XYh_quWrXfqagcLRkh3kwKOn8IpktvYiC2OQCzha/s1600/Juan+Valdez+and+his+donkey..JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEuoyLdH1mbfo79JoWqav5-55c6SPRKOZHWAjTAS1BJkYhMELWEEIcLrIl0hLVpVgwuEKJagSS5J3epitZy1F-SO2g-6cJ3FOaYN4XYh_quWrXfqagcLRkh3kwKOn8IpktvYiC2OQCzha/s200/Juan+Valdez+and+his+donkey..JPG" width="156" /></a><br />
7. Seven is my favorite number and also one of my favorite films.<br />
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8. I once had a coffee maker that only made 8 cups of fresh brewed coffee.<br />
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9. I prefer dark roast coffee.<br />
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10. I once joked with a few good friends about Juan Valdez showing up at our windows with fresh coffee beans. (His donkey too.)<br />
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11. I had my first cup of coffee when I was about 6 years old, a love affair for the ages.<br />
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<a href="http://www.momfiatees.com/index.html" target="_blank"></a><br />
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<b><u>THE ELEVEN DEADLY QUESTIONS (not involving coffee)</u></b><br />
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1. What's your favorite swear word substitution?<br />
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CRAP!</div>
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2. Boxers or Briefs?<br />
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Commando. </div>
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3. Vampires or Werewolves?<br />
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Vampires, not the sparkly kind. Deep, dark, twisty Anne Rice kind. </div>
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4. If you could choose any career what would it be?<br />
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Teacher, Lawyer, or Scientist. These are the same choices I've had since I was a wee lass...you'd think I'd have acted on one of these by now. </div>
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5. You're raiding the kids' Halloween stash. What are you taking?<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"> Everything laden in chocolate, ok no...I'm not that over indulgent. Probably Snickers or a Tootsie Pop. </span> <br />
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6. If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life what would it be?<br />
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The Shawshank Redemption, through and through the best movie I've ever had the pleasure of viewing. </div>
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7. What's your favorite book?<br />
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Too many to list, many Anne Rice books come to mind though. </div>
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8. Do you take your favorite coffee or tea with? cream or sugar?<br />
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OMG! I almost forgot about coffee, THANKS ALOT!!! </div>
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9. Favorite and least favorite cheese.<br />
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Colby Jack is my favorite and least is anything that smells of death. </div>
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10. Coke or Pepsi?<br />
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Water or COFFEE, not too much into Pop/Soda. </div>
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11. What's your style? Laid back or fashionista?<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Tomboy Fashionista! </span><br />
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<u><b>THE NOMINEES</b></u><br />
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See previous Liebster Post here <a href="http://2smart4.blogspot.com/2012/06/im-winner-things-are-gonna-change-i-can.html" target="_blank">Liebster Uno</a>, since it's been so recent that I nominated I'm at a loss. However, I will supplement a few more deserving blogger friends to get to 11 nominees. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy_u66-48AUUG7CELSf58Z-PegCCKDbWmFtMhkZBJ_2xVtBELahq8FHR3bk3ZcXsqPVquWTCGPB5Z_q2WhFtwwAcwwgb_aiWvmSpY9krA5DriNQPBIWF5C6y_P8Km3ldlzcsCqMcO3JXN4/s1600/liebsteraward.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy_u66-48AUUG7CELSf58Z-PegCCKDbWmFtMhkZBJ_2xVtBELahq8FHR3bk3ZcXsqPVquWTCGPB5Z_q2WhFtwwAcwwgb_aiWvmSpY9krA5DriNQPBIWF5C6y_P8Km3ldlzcsCqMcO3JXN4/s1600/liebsteraward.png" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.chrissyearle.com/" target="_blank">Catching Fireflies</a><br />
<a href="http://crapthatbugsme.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Crap That Bugs Me!</a><br />
<a href="http://mediocratesblog.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">How Did I Get Here?</a><br />
<a href="http://liveunscripteduncut.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Story of a Girl...</a><br />
<a href="http://amandasyear.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Year of Me</a><br />
<a href="http://thriftymilitarymommy.com/" target="_blank">Thrifty Military Mommy</a><br />
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<u><b>NOMINEE INTERROGATION QUESTIONS</b></u><br />
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1. What's your favorite day of the week?<br />
2. If you could visit any city in the world, all expenses paid, where you end up?<br />
3. Do you Pinterest, if so, do you find it hella addicting like I do?<br />
4. What is Blogging to you?<br />
5. What is the deepest thought you've ever had?<br />
6. Who is your biggest celebrity crush?<br />
7. If the President showed up on your doorstep what would you say to him?<br />
8. If you could change your name, would you and what would you change it to?<br />
9. Coffee or Tea?<br />
10. Most embarrassing moment?<br />
11. Favorite type of car? <br />
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<br />Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-58472204066180182572012-07-14T22:09:00.002-05:002012-07-17T00:23:37.501-05:00Me, Sunshine? You Bet!<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I graciously am accepting another blogger award. This time it's the Sunshine Blogger Award, given to me by <a href="http://mydailyjenn-ism.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">My Daily Jenn-ism</a> . Jenn is a great lady and full of wonderful ism's that make me smile. A heartfelt thank you to you, Jenn. It makes me so happy to hear that someone is thinking of me, even when my writing has slowed of late. Don't worry Smarties this may have been the push I needed. =) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><b><u>The Rules: </u></b></span><span style="line-height: 115%;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> 1. Include award logo in a post or on your blog page.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">2 2. Answer (10) questions about yourself. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">3 3. Nominate 10-12 other fabulous bloggers.<br />
4. Link your nominees to the post and comment on their blog, letting them know about the award.<br />
5. Share the love and link the person who nominated you.<br />
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<b><u>Ten Questions and Answers:</u></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><b><u> </u></b><br />
1. What would you most like to change about yourself?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">At times, I would like to change my outlook on things. I have a generally pessimistic attitude and sometimes it would be great to be one of those happy-go-lucky people of the universe. Then again I wouldn't be me if I didn't have the mindset that I call my own.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">2. What is your theme song?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">This has been my most difficult question to answer. I have various musical tastes that I can't satisfy with just ONE song. So, I'm just going to go what came to be first. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. Who doesn't love this song, you can sing along and have a great time! </span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">3. One part of your life, a memory, action, etc. that you wish you could surgically remove from your brain?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Who is really going to admit something that they'd want to erase? Haha, I guess it'd be that time I thought a mullet like hair cut was a good idea so I wouldn't have to brush it as much. Did I ever mention I'm a tomboy at heart?</span> </span> </span></span></div>
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4. What generation do you wish you had been a part of?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> <span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I love my generation, I'm a proud Gen X baby. We've seen what there used to be things like rotary phones and cassette tapes but we're just as familiar with cell phones, laptops, tablets, and wireless internet. However, I've always said I would love to have been part of the 60s, purely for musical reasons. I would've given a limb to see The Doors at Whiskey A Go-Go or to have been at Woodstock. </span></span> <br />
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5. What was your favorite childhood toy?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">My favorite childhood toy, hmmmm. I loved Barbies but equally loved playing with my brothers GI Joes. The Nintendo is a close contender as well. </span></span></div>
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6. What is your favorite housecleaning chore?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Seriously? I guess I'll go with vacuuming mostly because a machine is doing most of the work for me. </span></span></div>
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7. Do you Twitter? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Yes, I do but not very well. I'm a bit of twitter noob. I just don't get hash tags and retweeting. I'm starting to feel old as I write this. I think Twitter was invented for people with ADHD/ADD, I'm sorry I like to read more than 140 characters. </span></span></div>
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8. Any goals?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Of course, I'm always on a quest for knowledge it seems. I always dream of going back to school over and over again and becoming a jack of all trades. My current interest though is possibly Nursing. Not sure though, I don't know if I can handle excrement on a routine basis. </span></span></div>
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9. Do you really drink margaritas all the time?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Nope, I never touch those sour things. Give me a Sam Adams and I'm a happy girl. That or something with vodka in it. =) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">10. What is the ugliest car you've ever driven and were embarrassed to be seen in?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">THE EL CAMINO! I hated driving around in my Dad's truck. Sorry Dad, not my first choice in vehicles. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><u><b style="color: black;">My Sunshine Nominees</b></u></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoVD_yoxqzknXwrrDA7ePYpD4aAFFC77EyxErFR3IDRCFRt0hSkjqteDYUuva4dWcA7kvURlCxI1rUkPAwuSJDCbV34GcJ9BkzS41lmYtOFeQ8aF570CeVaPrqiTip6-w1o5j-DBb8tJR3/s1600/sunshine-blog-award.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoVD_yoxqzknXwrrDA7ePYpD4aAFFC77EyxErFR3IDRCFRt0hSkjqteDYUuva4dWcA7kvURlCxI1rUkPAwuSJDCbV34GcJ9BkzS41lmYtOFeQ8aF570CeVaPrqiTip6-w1o5j-DBb8tJR3/s1600/sunshine-blog-award.jpg" /></a><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://army-wife-mommy-life.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Army Wife, Mommy Life</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.thedudeofthehouse.com/" target="_blank">The Dude of the House</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://figuringitoutaswegrow.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Figuring it out as we grow</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://graceful-disaster.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Graceful Disaster</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.healthyindulgences.net/" target="_blank">Healthy Indulgences</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://themomalog.com/" target="_blank">The Momalog</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.loveofcountryblog.com/" target="_blank">Love of Country</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://delirious-mom.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Riding the Crazy Train: Diary of a Delirious Mom</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://vintageboomer.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Vintage Boomer</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.theafwife.com/" target="_blank">The Air Force Wife</a> </span></span></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">Thanks again to <a href="http://mydailyjenn-ism.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">My Daily Jenn-ism.</a></span></span></span></span><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span></span></i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">Go visit her and see what she's all about, she's amazing! To my Sunshine Nominees, each of you are a great read and I tried to include as many military wives as I could. We need to keep together one blog at a time. Congrats nominees! </span></span></span></span><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></span></i><br />
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</span></i></div>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-73793205551700572132012-06-29T09:40:00.002-05:002012-07-17T00:22:30.459-05:00I'm a Winner!Tuesday I had surgery, coming out of anesthesia isn't all that pleasant. Once I got to my suite, regained my senses, and felt less like death I fired up the iPad and checked my emails. In my email I found that <a href="http://graceful-disaster.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Graceful Disaster...Life, Parenting & Humor </a> commented on my post regarding the pre surgery liquid diet. In said comment she notified me that she had given me the Liebster Award! Thank you so much Graceful Disaster, I appreciate it and it is quite humbling. It brought my first legitimate post op, out of anesthesia smile...priceless. Many thanks! <br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Here are the rules:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></div>
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1. Choose 5 up & coming blogs to pass the Liebster Award on to. Each blog must have less than 200 followers. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">2. Show your thanks & appreciation to the blogger than gave you the award by linking back to them.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">3. Share 5 random facts about yourself.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">4. Post the award to your blog.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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1. I'm not sure how random this fact is but it's the first that comes to mind. My name is April. Yes, as in the fourth month. Believe it or not I was born in this month. Big props to my parents for using the first thing they could think of. (Just kidding) This has brought relentless teasing though life such as "Oh I bet your middle name is MAY bahahaha." ...No it's not. </div>
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2. I despise "chick flicks." So and so feel in love? Well that's great, I don't care. Give me a good ol fashioned horror show and I'll be satisfied. </div>
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3. Mashed potatoes without gravy is my favorite food. Yes, I'm the girl who you may or may not have seen in a restaurant ordering mashed potatoes as a meal. Sorry Emeril, none of that fancy stuff for me BAM just salt and butter please! </div>
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4. To me, the term dressing up means "nice" jeans and a "fancy" top with the possibility of some sort of matching flip flop. I'm 33 years old maybe sometime soon I'll embrace a little bit more fashion sense, then again maybe not. I prefer comfort to feeling like there's a stick up my ass. </div>
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5. I'm the kind of Mom who yells at her boys for playing video games wrong. Whether it's using the spacebar to jump or R1 to aim, I'm always there to teach them the important things in life. Someday, they'll thank me. lol.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-K6gEczJL23jggovf59HBTXVhm3yCd_SsTrxqSD89tg87RmgamVXhrlqLjG7gXvjgipKwDNQqUpGJ3SmykBxQ8GDkiaEhoZQ2HT4YbHpoh8FefXAMEUUQDpE9gxXHVFXZhYIaIC8lzT8B/s1600/liebsteraward.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-K6gEczJL23jggovf59HBTXVhm3yCd_SsTrxqSD89tg87RmgamVXhrlqLjG7gXvjgipKwDNQqUpGJ3SmykBxQ8GDkiaEhoZQ2HT4YbHpoh8FefXAMEUUQDpE9gxXHVFXZhYIaIC8lzT8B/s1600/liebsteraward.png" /></a><b>Drumroll Please...</b><br />
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<b><a href="http://jennyjofaypaperdolls.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Authentic Life</a> </b><br />
<b><a href="http://marvelousmoandme.com/" target="_blank">Marvelous Mo' & Me</a> </b><br />
<b><a href="http://modmombeyondindiedom.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Mod Mom Beyond IndieDom</a> </b><br />
<b><a href="http://foodthoughtsofachefwannabe.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">FoodThoughtsOfaChefWannaBe</a> </b><br />
<b><a href="http://www.swimmingwith3.com/" target="_blank">just keep swimming</a> </b><br />
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I decree I award these 5 blogs the Liebster Award for their hard work and their ability to keep me entertained! Congrats and thanks again to <a href="http://graceful-disaster.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Graceful Disaster</a> for my first blog award, the Liebster Award. <br />
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<a href="http://www.topmommyblogs.com/" target="_blank">CLICK HERE to Vote for me at Top Mommy Blogs!</a><br />
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</div>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-64845843846610599142012-06-24T14:44:00.000-05:002012-07-17T00:16:43.301-05:00LiquidityI have no true liquid assets unless you count the profuse amount of urine coming from me today. I'm having surgery on Tuesday. The surgeon has put me on a clear liquid, sugar free diet. When's the last time you tried this? If this is a feat you have accomplished and lived through, feel free to hand out pointers in the comments section.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiafUrcOWpJ0rIWP2MtiqKnV4cfMCblk-mpD3Lh1xSAJm5ICfmovkOdCSUqoXTyVgV6Fh7GG4ewf4c1De61iZK7iHiPd3cBWs6FeU9PW7l8eycMj5z2XNBUk9XXLtDDLigNdfhhMVm3sN8/s1600/deppparadisbreakup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiafUrcOWpJ0rIWP2MtiqKnV4cfMCblk-mpD3Lh1xSAJm5ICfmovkOdCSUqoXTyVgV6Fh7GG4ewf4c1De61iZK7iHiPd3cBWs6FeU9PW7l8eycMj5z2XNBUk9XXLtDDLigNdfhhMVm3sN8/s320/deppparadisbreakup.jpg" width="195" /></a>I feel like Vanessa Paradis right now, food was my Johnny. It's a break up I've known has had to come for quite sometime. Nothing brings it home quite like a tall glass of water over and over and over again. I love water but holy hell am I starving at this very moment. I feel like I want to eat a rare steak and that's something I'd normally NEVER do.<br />
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Details? Not many, but I'll share what I can have for the next few days. Water, crystal light, low sodium broth, decaff coffee or decaff tea, and sugar free popsicles. Decaff coffee or tea, really? That's taking all of the fun out of the world. It was quite difficult for me to get out of bed knowing I couldn't have a crisp cup of REAL coffee. Oh the humanity!<br />
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Not even going to go onto the part where I really want a cracker right now, sure go ahead and call me Polly. See what happens when I find you! My husband has felt my wrath today all over the heat and a plunger. Don't ask about the plunger. I'm in a frenzied state of panic. WHERE'S THE BEEF? It's not that bad...<br />
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Or is it?<br />
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<a href="http://www.topmommyblogs.com/" target="_blank">CLICK HERE to Vote for me at Top Mommy Blogs! </a>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-77125943960575212382012-06-20T10:34:00.003-05:002012-07-17T00:17:20.248-05:00Half of a DecadeThis year I have a blog, a real blog not that myspace crap that went to ground ages ago. Today is my littlest son's birthday. He lived a short time, was celebrated, and loved deeply. I've vowed to never forget his precious face and voice. On this day, the day of his birth, I write a simple letter to him each year. June 20th, 2012 is the day I share it with people I've shared my life with and also all of the readers that I've met via this endeavor. It's your choice to read but please do. I'm not entirely sure what you will gain by reading this personal letter, maybe it will give you strength as it has me. Possibly help make your day brighter by realizing all that you have in this life. <br />
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<a href="http://www.myspace.com/kulswifey/blog" target="_blank">Previous Letters to Littlest Son</a></div>
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<b>Dearest Karter,</b><br />
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<b>Happy 5th birthday Littlest Son. Half of a decade, I really can't believe it. I say just as I do to your brother that it really does seem like yesterday I held you in my arms for the first time. The first and last kiss. The first witness to your voice and the last beat of your heart. </b><br />
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<b>I celebrate you today, Littlest Son. </b><br />
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<b>This year has mirrored the last five years. We have moved once again to a new home and a new way of life, this time in the bayou of America. A slower pace of life was welcomed after our last home. Dad still works hard for the Army but he is home more often, for now. We enjoy this as I'm sure you can tell. </b><br />
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<b>Your brothers are taller and smarter than ever. At this very moment they sit in the living room as I write disputing Star Wars facts. I'm sure you'd chime in if you had the chance. Each day it seems they learn something new and always they remember you. Just yesterday Big Brother stated that the reason we got our new pet Lucy, was because you weren't with us anymore. This isn't entirely true, we would've caved sooner or later no matter for the cuteness that is a puppy. </b><br />
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<b>I love you, Littlest Son. </b><br />
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<b>Momma is chugging along as usual. I'm always doing something around the house to keep my thoughts in check. I write when I feel I need to and I'm now publishing it for the world to see. Thank you for giving me the strength to know that I can do anything in this life. Of course, your brothers and father are what keeps me busy most. Yet everyday I know you are here in some small way. Whether it's the wind blowing in my face or a sunbeam shining onto us. There are little things that remind me of you and of course my love for you will never ever disappear. You are always in my heart and memories. Today I celebrate you.</b><br />
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<b>This is the part that I hate getting to. There's that little bit of finality that is a hard reminder that I cannot give you hugs on your birthday, sing you a song, or even watch you blow out your candles. The part of the letter where I sign off for another year. Littlest Son, thank you for giving me so much in such a short amount of time. Thank you for coming into our lives, without you I don't know how I could be "whole." Thanks for showing me the light in the dark. I love you, we love you, you are with us always. </b><br />
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<b>Love you,</b><br />
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<b>Momma</b><br />
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<b><a href="http://www.topmommyblogs.com/" target="_blank">CLICK HERE to show your support for me at Top Mommy Blogs! </a> </b><br />Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-70044682490781227992012-06-04T11:02:00.000-05:002012-07-17T00:16:14.751-05:00ROAD TRIP!<div style="background: url('http://tools.blognation.com/bn/tools/favorite/image/5f515f623108c5c6f7053718ae8adc68.png') no-repeat -1px -1px;">
I selected this post to be featured on <a href="http://www.militaryblogs.org/" target="_blank">Military Blogs</a>. Please visit the site and vote for my blog!</div>
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Part of being a military family includes road trips. The husband and I love to travel. We would do more of it if he had more time off of work. The boys don't seem to mind either, which is a great plus. I can only imagine them growing up to be worldly travelers. We're taking a trip in a couple of days and since I'm the Lady of the house I get the pleasure of packing for everyone.<br />
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The trip we will be going on isn't one of glamor or worldliness. Keeping things simple and fun is what we have planned. We have 8 days to get from the deep south to the epicenter of my husband and I's universe. Otherwise known as our respective "home(s)" which are Indiana and Michigan. In the middle of the visit, a trip to Ohio where we will be visiting "America's Rollercoast," Cedar Point. Don't worry I'll fill you in. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vTyt2K8wsvP8IlCR1Zd-owEfHGATSD6vM0xolPGS-Hz21o_H2wnc4vmUO6qDF1Ci8SWyUrsJWl_Mqy7L1QXu7uJXLqR-4DB9ttZhWHxgFHV8UBGNvzU6NhgajEmoLsZV8xABiSrJIglN/s1600/Terminatorgosselin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vTyt2K8wsvP8IlCR1Zd-owEfHGATSD6vM0xolPGS-Hz21o_H2wnc4vmUO6qDF1Ci8SWyUrsJWl_Mqy7L1QXu7uJXLqR-4DB9ttZhWHxgFHV8UBGNvzU6NhgajEmoLsZV8xABiSrJIglN/s200/Terminatorgosselin.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate Gosselin, Packing Terminator.</td></tr>
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Do you pack for your entire family when you go on a trip? I do. One would think that by now I'd have it down to a science like Kate Gosselin did on that one episode where they go on a trip. I don't, in fact, I get really flustered when it comes to packing. I over pack, I always have. I'll end up taking half of my closet and wearing 10 percent of what's packed. This ends up doing a number on my husbands back. Not to mention gathering and packing everything for the boys/men of the household. 8 sets of clothes, for 4 people, plus at least one cold weather outfit (just in case), flip flops, tennis shoes, toiletries, medicines, camera, iPad, toys, movies, books, and so on. Whoops, forgot the family dog Lucy in this. Have to get her to the kennel the night before we leave with a bag of food and her favorite things.<br />
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Did I mention that about two months ago the husband had to request his time off? This is always the FIRST and most important step of a military family's trip planning. It took nearly a month and a half to get approved but it did, with less days than he had intended. Ah well, just means we get less time doing what we'd like, no problem we can adapt!<br />
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The trip from our deep south home to our up north home(s) will take about 16-20 hours of driving time, one way. Believe me when I say, this is a better trip than from our last residence which was in far west Texas, ie Mexico. The husband seems to think we can make it all in one day. I'm not as young as I used to be, staying up for 24hrs is quite the task especially if I can't drink cocktails. 1159 miles, one way to Michigan. Then another roughly 100 miles to Cedar Point. After our stay there, to Indiana which is about 215 miles from Cedar Point, then back home from Indiana at 1000 miles. Glamorous, I know. After about 2500 miles of driving we won't ever want to drive anywhere again... for at least a year.<br />
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I can't complain though. There are plenty of military families who do not get to go where they would like. Whether it's financial reasons or work schedules, they sometimes have to stay put on base and just deal with this life. I'm thankful that we do get the opportunity to drive a zillion miles to see home for just a few days.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsGDCIMGBjNeLzmexvLBKWRhrntDNErH6NPv8TpNDXpG7DjSf870kmPiKhyphenhyphen79N2O18upvVVcfMWGHLDmfGVa-T_wS8JXcYwfhvIHBoOKlVX0rDWEUesXS6CbTmor_ghockBSjynF3wL9AG/s1600/08-roller-coster-gallery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsGDCIMGBjNeLzmexvLBKWRhrntDNErH6NPv8TpNDXpG7DjSf870kmPiKhyphenhyphen79N2O18upvVVcfMWGHLDmfGVa-T_wS8JXcYwfhvIHBoOKlVX0rDWEUesXS6CbTmor_ghockBSjynF3wL9AG/s320/08-roller-coster-gallery.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not our family, but this may resemble us. </td></tr>
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Oh yea, I was supposed to fill you in on <a href="http://www.cedarpoint.com/" target="_blank">Cedar Point</a>. I'm finding that every person I tell here in the South that we're going to Cedar Point, they just give me a blank stare. I'm guessing it's that way for the rest of the U.S. aside from Michigan, Ohio, and possibly Indiana. Cedar Point is Six Flags on steroids. It's nothing but roller coasters. It's every adrenaline junkies dream and every scared shitless person's nightmare. They, of course, have a plethora of children's rides to accommodate smaller children like my youngest but then again he'd rather be riding the big rides. We are staying for three days on the park and I bet you money that we won't get to ride all of the rides, though we WILL try. I'm not going to lie, some of these metal demons scare the crap out of me. I'm usually the person in the photos that's hanging on for dear life looking like I'm on the verge of passing out or in sheer terror. Don't worry folks, I WILL NOT be posting such embarrassing photos. It's a family past time of mine to frequent this park. It was my Grandfather who got me onto my first roller coaster, The Blue Streak. If it weren't for him, I'd still be hyperventilating at the thought of a roller coaster. This year I finally get to share this experience with my stepson. He's never been and yes he's quite worked up about going on the rides. I hope that he grows to love the place as I have.<br />
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Lordy, two cups of coffee later and I'm still not anymore packed than I was yesterday! What are you doing to me people?! Haha, I can't blame you packing is a task I dread. Especially when it's for 4 people. So Smarties, I probably won't be posting again until next weekend or later. Enjoy your summer days and I'll be thinking of my readers the first hill I go down. ;)<br />
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<a href="http://www.topmommyblogs.com/" target="_blank">CLICK HERE to Vote for me at Top Mommy Blogs! </a>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-51261719383761731412012-05-22T19:34:00.003-05:002012-07-17T00:18:02.472-05:00Lessons in UrineNo one ever told me being a mother of a boy would be so comedic. With the husband deployed or working long hours I've taught him some of the "boy things" as best as I've known how. My son tends be to rather inquisitive and I'm the type of person to answer best as I can.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdArOnCoJiTCjT-14TdZtR0Zo848eVhXOt-89NfeHZvT3NnVwCo2g2ZdSJyTM8DNWDa_kaFnOrCMITvpklfIqOO-gMl1po18dq0PugtWERyWLteXAIipLJ2uzJ4ySvRVprXL4Uru3Mrmb/s1600/statuepeeing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdArOnCoJiTCjT-14TdZtR0Zo848eVhXOt-89NfeHZvT3NnVwCo2g2ZdSJyTM8DNWDa_kaFnOrCMITvpklfIqOO-gMl1po18dq0PugtWERyWLteXAIipLJ2uzJ4ySvRVprXL4Uru3Mrmb/s320/statuepeeing.jpg" width="320" /></a>The day my son decided he wanted to pee standing up, a tale for the ages. My husband was on a deployment. I heard my son banging around in the bathroom so I decided I had better investigate. The boy was positioning his potty stool just so that he could reach the toilet. By the time I got into the bathroom there was pee all over the toilet, on the floor, toilet seat down, and he was stepping down off of the potty stool. I asked what he was doing he said "I finally peed like a big boy!" After a chuckle and a grats I told him that next time it's better to lift the toilet seat up AND pee into the water. After a few years of diligent practice he does manage to mostly pee into the toilet bowl but putting the seat up is still a challenge. Can't blame him though, I just think it's in mans nature to leave a special treat for the lady of the house. </div>
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This year was my son's first year at a school that had a urinal. I think it was after the first week he finally broke out in laughter about using the urinal at school, commenting how cool it was to just pee in it. Ahhh, boys. Then came the day when I picked the boys up from school and he shared a story with us. "Mom, I pooped at school today." "Oh really, ok thanks for the info." "Yea, I had to poop in the urinal." </div>
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LAUGHTER, TEARS ROLLING DOWN FACE LAUGHTER! </div>
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My stepson and I asked him almost in unison why in the heck he would poop in the urinal. My son just said he wanted to and what was the big deal the stalls were taken? My stepson and I then informed him that urinals were for going number one and not number two. Fast forward to this past Monday when I picked the boys up. My son casually says "Well, somebody pooped in the urinal and it wasn't me!" Again, roaring laughter. Priceless.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvB64Rx-9ptvBPuZL1GaCVas85FYSsPVmqtxX-tPx-6Uq38-rgDmokNjka66SQuaZs3VQUyc2blQCB4WUrYSZnTMVFLdLR1iT7pHxaaIvQ003Dpo0mndeYpYi1LxbT4ekXLauu-8Vo3PAU/s1600/peebottle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvB64Rx-9ptvBPuZL1GaCVas85FYSsPVmqtxX-tPx-6Uq38-rgDmokNjka66SQuaZs3VQUyc2blQCB4WUrYSZnTMVFLdLR1iT7pHxaaIvQ003Dpo0mndeYpYi1LxbT4ekXLauu-8Vo3PAU/s1600/peebottle.jpg" /></a>The last tale I'll share today is that of the bottle incident. Men are born with the privilege of being able to use the bathroom "on the go." Well once again it was just me and the boy out and about with no restroom in sight. He of course had to pee, didn't have to before we left the house, but did at that time. I told him to hold it until we got to a bathroom, he was ok for the time being. By the time another ten minutes had passed I could see his little eyeballs floating as he professed his need for a restroom. I made a snap decision and told him to pee into the empty bottle. He giggled and questioned me. The whole explanation was me mostly rambling and feeling like a deer in headlights. He decided to go for it. I turned up the radio and prayed for the best. He managed to get most of the urine into the bottle. The rest well, some ended up into his eye he said...again laughter. </div>
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Being a mother to a boy presents challenges when the husband is away but we're getting through it one hilarious moment after the other. I wonder if all Mom's go through this. <br />
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<br /></div>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-45733068269390933802012-05-17T09:54:00.000-05:002012-07-17T00:18:39.924-05:00Parking at The MartEarlier in the week I was able to go grocery shopping without the entire family shuffling through the mart. Believe me when I say I was overjoyed to do this on my own. Not hearing the whining, I wants, and oh my back hurts was such a treat. Me being able to look at everything I wanted without being rushed, every Mom’s dream. Joyously I left the house and headed to town to the mart, happy as a clam.<br />
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I pulled into the mart and picked the usual aisle to park. Oh what’s this a parking spot fairly close? I pull in like a pro and WTF do my eyes behold? A rogue shopping cart. I’m sure it wheeled itself strategically as to not let me park without scratching the car. Ok, no big deal right? I park without scratching the bejesus out of my glorified grocery getter. I didn’t want some asshole dinging and scratching the shit out of my vehicle so I took the cart into the mart.</div>
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The kicker here is that the cart corral was one parking space away from mine. Some lazy god damn asshole couldn’t take it upon themselves to walk 20 feet to the corral. This pisses me off, to no end. Also, in case you were wondering, I was not crop dusted at this visit to the mart. It was a good shopping experience and I wasn’t a lazy effer and put the cart into the cart corral as parking lot etiquette would surely dictate.</div>
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There are a couple other parking lot fouls I’d like to share. These too piss me off. If you are guilty, please take note. I’d hate to have to rush up on you all Larry David like.</div>
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Who’s Larry David and what in the heck are you talking about? Take a gander at this gem.</div>
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Parking over the line. Pig parking. ASSHOLES. Surely, there’s been a time or two I may have parked over the line. I have learned over the years to park in the lines, it only takes a minute to back up and try again folks.</div>
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I’ve climbed over the center console of my vehicle more than I care to admit thanks to parking jack holes. My car(s) have been dinged up in every kind of parking lot known to man. My husband has even parked extremely close to people on purpose because they were over the line onto another parking spot. “That’ll teach em” he says when I’m saying “pull the hell over they are going to devastate my door!” I need to get me a pad of infraction papers from <a href="http://youparklikeanasshole.com/">youparklikeanasshole.com</a>.</div>
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<a href="http://www.youparklikeanasshole.com/files/notice_1.pdf">Feel Free to Hand Out</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGsE2qWJntlyRZOONVuqeKY5tYkL35Su4fpBAcONNC19PSrGpvXQXUADinjs0FZFObvV5ZcA_qaZy7DcjNhZFVhMZYtv8BodUgqBL5yTAmOjKChWHcE06ud6lXxy4GbpKDihiggY3Dalm/s1600/KathyBatestawanda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGsE2qWJntlyRZOONVuqeKY5tYkL35Su4fpBAcONNC19PSrGpvXQXUADinjs0FZFObvV5ZcA_qaZy7DcjNhZFVhMZYtv8BodUgqBL5yTAmOjKChWHcE06ud6lXxy4GbpKDihiggY3Dalm/s320/KathyBatestawanda.jpg" width="320" /></a>Then we have the parking spot stealer, total ass hats who prey on the good guy parker. Imagine circling the mall with a small child wailing in the back “MOMMY I HAVE TO PEE.” Not a parking spot in sight for 47 miles when suddenly a spot close to the door opens up and no one else is in sight. YES! Thank ye Gods! Then a super bitch drives up in her sweet little bitch car and pulls right into the parking spot you had been waiting for. Did that ass wipe not see the turn signal on?! I’ve been there, I’ve called people a plethora of foul names, and given the finger. I’d just love to go Kathy Bates on their asses like in Fried Green Tomatoes. TAWANDA! Ram and re ram the little bitch car over and over...then casually drive away. PS. This is where I first uttered the “C word” out of anger.</div>
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So, if you happen to to be the person who left that cart in the parking space, next time push it over to the cart corral. It’s not THAT far. If you are the person parking over the line, back it up and try again. If you are the parking spot stealer, I hope someone shits on your car. Lastly, if you have a ginormous truck, SUV, or other gas guzzling powerhouse DO NOT park in the spaces labeled FUEL EFFICIENT VEHICLE or EV. My guess is if you are parking in those spots with a large gas hog you’ll have enough money to get your car out of impound a tow truck is called.<br />
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<br /></div>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-15907016248603924042012-05-13T00:07:00.002-05:002012-07-17T00:19:16.499-05:00Momma's Day<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: small;">I am a Mother and Stepmother. I have known and continue to meet some priceless women who just so happen to be mothers as well. With our aprons off and the children of the house doing everything* for us today you should definitely have time for this read. * By everything I mean not waking you up before dawn, tidying up the house, cooking for you, taking care of themselves, and so on. *chuckles*</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The life I’ve led has never been simple. I’ve always had parents (shock and awe,) step parents, grand parents, step grandparents, etc. This was and continues to be my normal way of life, as I’m sure it is for many of us. I just want to say that without ALL of my family, I wouldn’t be who I am today. Thank you for taking me in as your own, thank you to my parents for blessing me with this life, and Mom thanks for all that pushing you did I know how much that hurt.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The husband and I have had the pleasure of loving and caring for three special boys. On a daily basis, I am called “Mom, Mommy, Mom, April, Mom, MOM, APRIL” about 357 times. Do I answer every time? Yes, most likely. Do I want to ignore them sometimes? Absolutely! I’m always there to negotiate treaties between the brothers, care for their wounds, administer medications, drive them to school or practice, and read bedtime stories. I am their Mother/Stepmother whether they like it or not. BAHAHA, the joke is on you, kids. All fun aside I’m blessed to have them in my life. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My stepson is the eldest, at a ripe ol’ age of 11 and nearing teenagerdom faster than we’d like. It really does seem like yesterday I met him for the first time and we were playing with his Buzz, Woody, and Jessie dolls. Then came the Power Rangers, video games, and Legos. I’ve shared my love of Star Wars with him and even at his worst he’s a spectacular son. I have to say thank you to his Mother for having such a wonderful son and sharing him. I know the future holds great things for him. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our son, age 5 going on 32, is a complex little human being. I often wonder if the stars aligned just right to bring him into the world. He’s a strawberry blonde and believe me the ginger in him comes out quite frequently. He’s wise beyond his years and sometimes says things that I would never dream a 5 year old would say. He has amazed me since birth. I love him even when he’s acting like a fool. I’m sure that the future holds great things for him, as well. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Karter is our angel in heaven. He is technically our youngest son. He alone has taught me more lessons in life than one could imagine. The good and the bad. The happiness and the sorrow. In utero we knew he had a problem that was not able to be corrected. We had the pleasure of hearing his voice cry out, I can only imagine he was saying “PUT ME BACK IN, it’s freezing out here MOM, MOMMY, MOM...” He passed away about 40 minutes after delivery. He gave me a much greater strength than I ever thought I had. He’ll always be in my heart. I’m sure the future would have held great things for him as well. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I don’t plan on having any more children. These boys are enough. I am proud to be their Mother. I’m so glad they are a part of my life, where would I be without them? </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To all of you out there wishing your mom a Happy Mother’s Day, remember what you mean to her and what she means to you. Women remember what your children are to you, they are your greatest and most precious gift. If you don’t have kids, that’s fine. Just give your Momma more hugs and thanks for what she’s been to you on this day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To my boys - thank you for being my son I will love you always and forever. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To my Mother/Stepmom/Mother-in-law - Thanks for always being there for me through it all you are simply amazing. I love you. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To all the Moms reading this - enjoy your day! </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.topmommyblogs.com/" target="_blank">CLICK HERE to show me some Momma love at Top Mommy Blogs!</a> </span></span></div>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-7201368194850778752012-05-11T11:27:00.002-05:002012-07-17T00:19:50.476-05:00Military Spouse Appreciation Day 2012<br />
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<a href="webkit-fake-url://EA0E5F3D-426D-4A16-BB51-07B84B68A7EE/image.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="clear: right; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d;">"</span>May 11 is Military Spouse Day. This is a time to recognize the sacrifices made by military spouses in support of their Soldiers. The public should remember that the Strength of the Nation is the Army; the Strength of the Army is the Soldier; and the Strength of the Soldier is the family." --www.army.mil/families</span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">The Friday before Mother's day is Military Spouse Appreciation Day. As an Army spouse I've encountered many amazing counterparts to our soldiers. I've witnessed strengths and stupidities. I'm not a model military spouse by any means but I do what I think is best and that is what works for our family. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">For me, being an Army spouse hasn't been so terrible. I tend to be a realist though, I never thought it would be rainbows and unicorns either. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1FZCNKTFgr7IVAsQNPqYU6Cu1EvqQ0qYRZjlOjSZGlmBoqfy8JmfFXWtFchGps4sNGwUoVqpLwI0epZJ3zUKfuyWAelFzkQZi31TeCfBkD0n5BiC7cI8Jse4JV4Ua1rCVxH3s8phKD_XA/s1600/159190464v5_480x480_Front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1FZCNKTFgr7IVAsQNPqYU6Cu1EvqQ0qYRZjlOjSZGlmBoqfy8JmfFXWtFchGps4sNGwUoVqpLwI0epZJ3zUKfuyWAelFzkQZi31TeCfBkD0n5BiC7cI8Jse4JV4Ua1rCVxH3s8phKD_XA/s320/159190464v5_480x480_Front.jpg" width="288" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">My husband was deployed for his first time before we were married, this presented many challenges in and of itself. He was a part of OIF 1. I won't get into all of the gory details because those aren't what matter. He served his nation and continues to do so. I served him the best I knew how. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">I officially became a military spouse on June 7th, 2004. Yea kids, we got married on a Monday at a courthouse. One of the hardest parts for some women is the fact that sometimes planning the wedding of your dreams just isn't a reality with the military. This is where me being a non girly girl became a bonus. I didn't care that I wasn't surrounded by lavishness or a few hundred of my closest friends and family. When your soon to be husband has X amount of days window of leave, you have to take it and do the best you can with it. I can't say all of the important people in my life were able to attend but that's ok. I know that they were there with us in spirit. I am thankful that the people who were able to attend, did. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">I've always been very proud of my husband and his service to our country. I've always loved him through the good, the bad, and the very ugly. This isn't an easy duty, being a military spouse. There are many hardships but we deal with them, often silently. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">I've also traveled quite a bit and lived places I know I wouldn't have chosen on my own. My husband has a steady income which has allowed me to be a stay at home mom. We have healthcare for our entire family. We have the luxury of not being in debt up to our eye balls. However, I partially attribute this to the fact that we haven't bought our first home. I know we will move again someday and that's ok with me, I do like change. I know that at any time my husband may be called off to deploy or go out to the field for days, weeks, or months. That's ok, we will be here for him when he gets back. I will survive and our children will continue to thrive. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">I knowingly made the choice to be a military spouse and I'm ok with that, you should be too. Thank you to all of my Army Spouse friends, without you I'd probably be in a padded but secure room. Thank you to all of the military spouses today for your sacrifices, keep up the good work I know it's hard sometimes. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2012/05/11/presidential-proclamation-military-spouse-appreciation-day-2012" target="_blank">President Obama's Proclamation for Military Spouse Appreciation Day 2012</a></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">On a side note, didn't hear about this on the news this morning but sure did hear about freaking Zuckerburg's hoodie and the breastfeeding toddler mom. Really.... Good to know where our interests lie. Thanks to all who read this entry, thanks for caring. =) </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"></span></div>Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4291303856034683475.post-78991936693218708802012-05-07T16:47:00.002-05:002012-07-17T00:20:27.204-05:00Protecting Crops at the Mart<a class="pin-it-button" count-layout="horizontal" href="http://pinterest.com/pin/create/button/"><img border="0" src="//assets.pinterest.com/images/PinExt.png" title="Pin It" /></a><br />
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My husband is insisting I share our recent crop dusting story. Do you know what crop dusting is? Not the actual plane flying over crops crop dusting...the OTHER one. <br />
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<a href="http://i148.photobucket.com/albums/s18/tfwfh/atwork-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://i148.photobucket.com/albums/s18/tfwfh/atwork-01.jpg" width="320" /></a>We were the local grocery mart, remarking how empty it was. This was a blessing because shopping at the mart with two boys and the husband gets a little hairy. Not to mention the usual idiots who sit there in front of the item you want to grab, talking about their day. Well the usual asshatary was avoided on said day at the mart. <br />
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While on the most important aisle to the boys, the cereal aisle, an older woman was in a rush to get by us. We gladly moved aside since we hate those asses who stand right in front of you. No big deal. We neared the end of the aisle when suddenly..."OMG WHO SHIT THEIR PANTS." We turned to the youngest as he's the most likely culprit. He had the ol' it wasn't me face on. I know for a fact it wasn't me, the husband says no, so does the other boy. While we're sitting there blaming each other, staring each other down, my husband and I realize we have been dun dun dun....CROP DUSTED by a senior citizen. <br />
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The stench reeked, my gag reflex was showing its horns. The boys were giggling up a storm. The husband still in disbelief that that nice old lady would do such a thing. <br />
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This makes me wonder if this is a common practice among my elders. Will it be so that when I am fully gray I'll be able to shit my pants through the aisles as I shop? Will I be able to void my bowels and blame it on unsuspecting families? Oh, this makes aging so much more enticing. I can't wait to let the secret out to the masses that yes...women fart. My boys will be so proud. <br />
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Needless to say, we attempted to make eye contact with said lady near the produce department. She didn't oblige. In fact, it seemed she was in even more of a hurry. Eh, maybe it was just a bad day and she had the sharts from her veggie laden lunch. Either way hats off to Elderly Crop Dusting Lady, thanks for the laugh. Not so many thanks for the smell of your anus. <br />
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For those of you who still don't understand the crop dusting concept, found at UrbanDictionary.com. P<i>assing gas in a stealth manor, usually while walking through a crowd or a group, so that someone else gets blamed for the stench, or at the very least people besides the assailent must suffer it. ex: The restaurant's so busy tonight that you can get away with crop dusting your own section</i><br />
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<br />Too Smart for Her Own Goodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14969331613492429220noreply@blogger.com5