tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83261171086402499952024-03-13T20:40:42.295-04:00There's a Fish in the Toothbrush HolderA daily journal of our family's crazy hijinks and how this mama of 4 tries to survive them!Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.comBlogger96125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-41250978821023981172009-01-22T09:08:00.002-05:002009-01-22T09:42:10.932-05:00Shine Your Light and Rock the Air Guitar!....<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">The other night, Brian and I had the privilege of attending an Eagles concert. Let me just say....it was SO FREAKIN' AWESOME! I have always enjoyed the Eagles. When their songs would come on the radio I would sing along or tap my foot or something like that. Brian, however, is a little different. How I feel about Oreos is how Brian feels about the Eagles. They are the air he breathes...the blood in his veins...the sun in his sky....in other words, he likes 'em!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">When he found out they would be doing a concert in town he could think of nothing else. He looked at tickets...too much money. He looked at tickets again...don't really want to spend the money. This scenario went on for a month. I finally took the matter into my own hands, surprised him, and bought tickets.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I'll pause for a moment while you give me a standing ovation and cheer my wonderfulness...</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Alrighty then....</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span></em><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So we arrived at the concert Tuesday night after what seemed like a 200 mile hike from the parking garage. We then proceeded to snake our way through the crowd of fans buying $40 T-shirts and $20 programs until we reached our seats. After stopping my nose bleed brought on by the effects of high altitude, I sent Brian back down the mountain for some snacks.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">While he was fulfilling my need for sustenance in the form of chocolate, I began to people watch. Yes, I admit it, I'm a people watcher. Please don't confuse me with one of those annoying types on the bench at the mall that makes it their duty to stare at you, no, I'm much more discreet. I notice details about people, and wonder what makes them act the way they do. For instance, why didn't the lady with a cane buy floor seats? Or, why would you wear a tank top to a concert in the middle of winter? Things like that.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">The concert got under way and in case I didn't mention before, it was about THREE MILLION KINDS OF WONDERFUL!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I continued my people watching while enjoying Joe Walsh rock out on the guitar. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">There was the woman who obviously had been filled with some kind of spirit, and I'm not talking Holy here people. She was so inspired by the musical goodness coming from the stage, that she felt the need to yell "raise h*ll" every five minutes. This is not a Kid Rock concert lady, there are old people here! She continued with this magical form of cheering until she was escorted out by the lovely men in blue.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">There was the woman sitting two seats down from us who actually needed two seats of her own. She played the air guitar for the entire three hour gig. It was a sight to behold!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">But by far my favorite was the man sitting below us. He had long scraggly hair and a beard to match. It's possible that he was a former ZZ Top band member. His Harley Davidson jacket and tight black jeans told me that he was indeed there to enjoy him some tunes. I figured that this was not his first trip down memory lane with the Eagles. However, when he brought out his lighter and ignited the flame, waving it in the air for all the concert goers to see, I could hardly contain my emotions. Here, amongst the throng of 20,000 Eagles lovers, was the one token "lighter guy". When cell phones and flash bulbs were going off by the thousands, he was content to shine his light. I think it's possible that he has seen a tequila sunrise or two...........</span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-86260721286475110732008-12-21T07:58:00.003-05:002008-12-21T08:07:52.019-05:00Josh isms....<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">If you have followed this blog for any length of time, you know that I get a good deal of my material from Josh. It's not that I'm exploiting him, it's just that he's so dang funny!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">For instance, a couple weeks ago, he was wanting a glass of orange juice. I went to the fridge to fix it for him and he stopped me with a concerned look on his face. "It's not the kind with pus in it, is it mom?" Pus!? In orange juice!? I was a little shocked and grossed out until I figured out that he was talking about pulp! Pus, pulp, same thing right?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Last night, as I was tucking him into bed, he asked me if we had any super glue in the house. Now, when a seven year old boy asks you for super glue, many alarms, loud bells, flashing red lights and other warning signs flash before your eyes! No good could possibly come from giving him super glue! I calmly asked him what he needed it for. He proceeded to explain to me how every night while he is sleeping his pillow falls off of his bed, the obvious solution to this problem was to super glue it down! Ofcourse! Why didn't I think of that?!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So here's to Josh...the provider of all good blog fodder!</span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-22673751581933517142008-12-16T11:53:00.004-05:002008-12-16T12:24:39.589-05:00I Wish I Knew Her Name...<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;">Her lonely face swept through my dreams last night. This girl was still so young but seemed to have no feeling. How could a child become so hardened and indifferent? After all, we were there with tons of toys, games, and gifts of all kinds. Any child would be excited and anxious to receive what were offering. Not this child.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Yesterday, as our large chartered bus drove into the small Kentucky town, I knew that my life was about to change. The houses were old, and battered. The creek was garbage lined. The school that was "our mission" was at the end of a long road. It was a small building that had a peculiar smell as we entered. Inside this building were 400 children waiting for our arrival. For many of them, this would be the only Christmas they would experience.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">As the bleachers of the gym became filled with smiling faces and buzzing voices became louder, my heart became larger and heavier. How sad, I thought, to have a room filled with impoverished children. What must their lives be like? Do they have enough to eat? Are they warm at night while they sleep?</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Children were assigned to all of us that had come to help. As this girl approached me, I was rehearsing what I would say to her. How could I put her at ease? I wanted to be her friend. It never occurred to me that she would want nothing to do with me.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I asked her name. She would not answer. I introduced myself and she stared at me blankly. I asked her if there was anything that she was hoping to find there today and what she wanted for Christmas. No response.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I didn't know what to do. Here was a beautiful young girl, who even when presented with her choice of many wonderful things, still would not let herself be happy. My heart ached for her. Was she really that void of emotion? Was her young life hopeless?</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">After several minutes of trying desperately to have some communication with her, I finally asked if I could choose some things for her and put them in her bag. She shrugged her shoulders. I carefully chose gifts that I hoped she would like. I wanted her to have happiness. I longed to see her smile.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">When we were finished I walked her back to the bleachers. I told her that it had been wonderful to meet her and that I hoped she had a Merry Christmas. She climbed up the steps and sat down with her bag. She did not smile. I watched her for awhile to see if she was going to open her bag and look at what I had put in it. She never did. She sat alone and then left with her class.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I left Kentucky yesterday filled with a mix of compassion and sadness. I had walked many children through the treasure lined tables. Most of them were happy and excited to pick out their gifts. But even through the joy of these children I could not get my mind off that lonely girl. What was she doing last night while I was dreaming about her? Will she be there next year when I go back? Will I ever get to know her name?.........</span></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-45645387660577639912008-11-25T15:28:00.005-05:002008-11-25T15:57:43.981-05:00Girl Interrupted....<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;">I'm a girl who likes to be in control of her situation. Please try to hold yourself together it's... shocking I know! Lately however, it seems that every time I make plans they are interrupted. Why is this? It's not that my plans aren't valid or important. They aren't going to harm anyone. They just don't come to pass.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">It is difficult to give up my control. It makes me feel vulnerable and at risk. What if I don't get to do the things that I feel are so important? What if my goals are never attained? What will I do? How will I cope? Will my life be forever marred by the day that my shopping plans got changed or by the fact that we didn't finish an algebra lesson? Will I live a life of regret because the fish bowl was left with a ring of scum around it?</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">These plans that I make are all important to me, but are they really the most important plans? The only thing that's going to suffer by my blocked goals is possibly the fish! What I really need to be asking myself is what plans does God want me to make. How would He have me use my time? Is the time that I am going to spend shopping going to interfere with time I should be using for Him?</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I have been studying Paul recently. Talk about your blocked plans. Here was a man that shopped when he wanted, never missed an algebra lesson, and had an impeccably clean fish bowl. He was well educated, held a highly respected position, had an abundance of "frequent donkey miles", and still found the time to persecute and stone Christians. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">God obviously had better plans!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">When Paul's life was interrupted on the road to Damascus, his plans and perspective changed. He went from making his own plans to giving his all for the plans of the Lord! How convicting! </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I am hoping that God doesn't feel the need to strike me blind on the road! (especially since i would be driving) My prayer is that whatever plans He may have for me, that I would be a willing participant, that I would not be aggravated that they interfere with my clean fish bowl. We so often wander through our lives concerned about such petty things. It's time that I got focused on the eternal!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-82826979785591325212008-11-05T09:19:00.002-05:002008-11-05T09:39:47.486-05:00Give Me Liberty!....<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">This morning, as I reflected on the election results, I was tempted to be discouraged. I also thought for a moment that I should pack up my family and move to Antarctica for the next four years. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">However, when I really think about what happened yesterday, I have nothing to do except count my blessings. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I was born into a free country! </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I was able to drive my own car from my own house whenever I wanted yesterday and stand in line to vote for whomever I choose! </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I was able to homeschool my children!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I was able to go to my sister's birthday party without anyone questioning my motives!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I was able to sleep soundly in my bed. No one knocked on my door and threatened my family because of my beliefs!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Praise God!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Was the man who was elected my choice? No. Does that mean that I should not be thankful? No. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I am extremely thankful that our new president will be a man who was elected by the people of this nation. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I am extremely thankful that this man was not appointed for me, or is in this position because of his military threats and power. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Right now, as I am sitting in my cushy home typing these words, there are millions of people throughout the world that are suffering at the hands of their leaders. They have no say in their government. The choices they make in their everday lives are closely monitored and dictated for them. They risk their lives and those of their families if they do not conform to the mandates of the people in power over them.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Today, as a proud American, I am counting my blessings! Freedom is worth far more than my opinion!</span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-79479602199986840192008-10-12T18:06:00.003-04:002008-10-12T18:15:07.597-04:00Remember Me?....<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;">Hello? <em>tap, tap, tap </em>Anybody in there? I know I've been gone for almost a month, but please tell me you didn't forget me!</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Quite honestly over the last few weeks I have been trying to decide what to do about this here blog. I enjoy telling the whole entire internet all about our lives, but it seems that lately I've had nothing to say. Don't get me wrong, it's not like things haven't been happening around here. We've had school, and rabbit raising, and Brian finally getting back to a normal work schedule. We've even had Josh learning how to swim "star wars style".<em> One million points to the person who can figure out what that means.</em></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">For all five of you who are my loyal blog readers, I want to say thanks for hangin' in there. To the rest of you...I want to say <em>whateva!</em></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I'm going to keep the blog going for now. I might not be posting on a regular basis, but I don't want to give it up just yet. </span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">So keep checking in, and hopefully I'll see ya soon!</span></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-62184484286397680622008-09-15T11:24:00.002-04:002008-09-15T11:28:09.837-04:00Quick Post Cause I've Got No Time....<span style="color:#006600;">Well we are back from a week at the beach! It was wonderful, refreshing and fun!! Of course now that we are home we have to get back to the daily grind. UGH!</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">This week should be busy. We need to get back into school, clean the house, and tomorrow we are going to pick up our killer rabbits.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Hopefully I will have some vacation and bunny pics to share in the next couple days. Until then...SEE YA!</span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-48686761664728909032008-09-02T08:11:00.004-04:002008-09-02T08:17:20.076-04:00No Words....<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Because <a href="http://www.utsports.com/sprots/m-footbl/recaps/090208aaa.html"><span style="color:#ff6600;">this</span></a> happened last night, I will now fling myself from the peak of <span style="color:#ff6600;">Rocky Top</span>!</span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-54529826604654230272008-08-23T11:06:00.005-04:002008-08-23T11:35:46.081-04:00Flopsy, Mopsy and That Really Big One With No Name....<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">We are venturing into a new realm around here. The kids have decided to take up 4H. I am actually very excited about this, mostly because I've always dreamed of having a farm. However, we do not live on a farm. We live in a nicely manicured subdivision. This obviously limits our choices for animal projects. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">My children are very resourceful however, and were able to come up with the perfect animal project for the suburban family. Rabbits. You know, those sweet little cuddly balls of fluff that are just so cute? Yes rabbits. I agreed that this was the perfect plan (envisioning dwarf bunnies). So the kids began researching types of rabbits and their care. They finally decided on a breed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">FLEMISH GIANTS!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Did you get the GIANT part of that? These rabbits will grow to be larger than my dog. They can reach 28 pounds...you know, just a little lighter than me. They require a large cage of course, that will have to be built. They also require more food and more cleanup. This information has not deterred the rabbit olympic hopefuls. They are going for the gold in this rabbit project.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237735530000937794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="157" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVkuhxuz0Uz3Ckz_jDsrzUchkMY4EKtP5w2myFAayEKBeUr2wLwuoRgaW2omcTJ2Yw49sRpEgk7jOWmtQZuFyljYIJhm1nbQ8nDkMVkC1bQ-qHDpEGWjlxU-mvGlKOb6ZxFrKZWUaKUc/s400/Ft%2520Worth%2520Stock%2520Show%2520002.jpg" width="181" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><em><span style="color:#006600;">Incidentally, I have no idea who the guy in the picture is, but he obviously runs some kind of Flemish Giant Army. Do you see the size of that thing? Are you feeling my pain?...</span></em><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">As we have looked at picture after picture of the very large specimens, I have been pondering some things in my heart. Kind of like when Mary was pregnant with Jesus, but not. Anyhoo...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">First, do giant rabbits like people for dinner? If these rabbits are almost the size of me, will they see me as a tasty snack?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Second, isn't the word rabbit awfully close to rabid? Hmmm....</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">And lastly, this is where you come in my dear internets, what do you name a GIANT rabbit? Cottontail and Freckles don't really seem appropriate. Killer and Demon would seem more fitting.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">All this to say, we want some help naming our FLEMISH GIANTS. So leave me a comment and give us your suggestions! Some names we've considered are <em>SUR </em>short for <em>Sport Utility Rabbit, GOLIATH </em>which just implies LARGE, and <em>PEE WEE</em> cause it's funny. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">We will be getting these precious pets within the next few weeks, and want to be prepared. So enlighten us with your knowledge, blow us away with your creativity, give us a rabbit name by golly!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">And if you never hear from me again....you will find the leftovers in the hutch......</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-39077482769182742902008-08-14T08:24:00.003-04:002008-08-14T08:41:07.546-04:00To Sing What They Could Sing....<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Yesterday was one of those days where I needed to be trapped in the car for several hours with antsy children. Thank goodness for the DVD player! But alas you can only watch so many movies and I was tired of them arguing over the remote, so I suggested another activity.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">My children have always been very creative and usually have no problem coming up with something to do.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I was not surprised that within a few minutes they had formed a plan that would make me want to throw myself out the window into oncoming interstate traffic.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Let's practice Christmas songs", I heard from the backseat. Why O why didn't I bring more movies? UGH!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I guess when you are 6 and 8 it's very important to practice Christmas songs in August, that way you won't be rusty come December.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So after several rounds of Jingle Bells, Deck the Halls, and a very interesting version of Silent Night, I thought they were finished. But....then what to my listening ears should I hear....the suggestion of another song.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Mom, how's that one go? You know <em>Jesus Went Over the Mountain</em>?" Josh asked in all seriousness.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">To which I replied "what in the blazes are you talking about?"! I didn't remember that song from past Christmases. Josh however was insistent that it was his very favorite and he learned it in church.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Then it hit me. He was referring to <em>Go Tell it on the Mountain! </em>Of course! </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">It's a good thing Mary and Joseph didn't have to carry Jesus over the mountain. They might have run into that pesky bear!</span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-37844897036395546112008-08-11T08:25:00.002-04:002008-08-11T08:36:10.231-04:00Fresh Air....<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I opened my windows today! Did you hear me people? It's August and I opened my windows! You can't do this if you live in say Florida or Arizona or in some equatorial country. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">The weather here has been absolutely beautiful the last couple of days and it makes me crave fall! I'm ready for summer to be over so that I can put out my pumpkins and cheer on my favorite football team! GO VOLS!!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I'm sure that by the end of the week it will be 90 degrees again, and I will be floating in the lake and drinking diet coke to keep myself hydrated. But.... until then, I may start shopping for sweaters!</span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-43796988400588084972008-08-09T14:17:00.005-04:002008-08-09T14:34:20.829-04:00Good Friends, Good Food, Lotsa Years!....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdttrjKvDSWQSRtWqexSK4v7EGaIyUtlrHSv5lljkxl2xpTt43cz0VKJfgJ0XTH7xvyAofaSFtFpPZuxNpuYSbEIjkXyaBWYQ9hjOTBG52kESTFR9bdEPq-6zfI4843LXrsx_klnDHnvI/s1600-h/IMG_0063.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232587676940643730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdttrjKvDSWQSRtWqexSK4v7EGaIyUtlrHSv5lljkxl2xpTt43cz0VKJfgJ0XTH7xvyAofaSFtFpPZuxNpuYSbEIjkXyaBWYQ9hjOTBG52kESTFR9bdEPq-6zfI4843LXrsx_klnDHnvI/s400/IMG_0063.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#006600;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thursday was Brian and my sixteenth anniversary. Sometimes it's hard to believe we've been married that long and other times....not so hard.</span> </span><br /></span><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So for our anniversary we celebrated with our favorite friends. You might remember my <a href="http://theresafishinthetoothbrushholder.blogspot.com/2008/07/bikinis-piercings-and-good-healthy-diet.html">fake twin sister Amy</a>? Well she and her husband Derek share an anniversary with us! Can you believe it? Totally cool!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Anyway, the four of us went to our favorite wing hang out (Wild Wing Cafe) and gobbled down a few unsuspecting chickens. It was a blast! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Here's the funny part. Derek was scheduled to have surgery the next day so they weren't even supposed to be at dinner. Guess what happened while we were there? </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Derek won a cruise!!!!!!! Unbelievable!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So not only did we have a wonderful time, but they got a cruise out of the deal! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Man I love those wings!!</span></div></div>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-44063542576905609832008-08-05T17:03:00.004-04:002008-08-06T07:52:24.036-04:00A Deer in the Headlights or Buying a New Car....(the final chapter)<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So we drove home, feeling somewhat frustrated but trying to remind ourselves that good things come to those who wait. And wait we did!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">The next day, we had several conversations with the dealership. We negotiated numbers and needless to say they were not very happy with our bottom line. After all of our back and forth haggling they decided that they just could not sell us this vehicle for what we were willing to pay. So to that we said okay, we will find a car somewhere else. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Within a couple of hours we got a call back asking us to come in <em>because they think they can work it out!</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">We drove back to the dealership fully confident that we would be driving our new van home. Confidence is highly overrated.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">After 3 hours....yes that's 3 as in one, two, three....we were informed that because Brian works so much overtime, it was making it difficult for the </span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">bank to verify his income. Keep in mind that they had several pay stubs and the last two years W2's in front of them. This, we determined, was all part of the game.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">They told us that because it was Friday evening, and we were facing the weekend, it would probably be Monday before we would know anything for sure.....UNLESS....</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">we wanted to put more down to prove that we had a sufficient bank account.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Can you say LIVID!?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">We were not putting more money down, and I was not going to play this game anymore. We told them that they could either make the deal or we would be looking elsewhere.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">We drove home again. This time I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that we would be looking elsewhere. The sales manager at the dealership had other ideas. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Apparently, sales have been extremely slow and this particular automaker has a year's worth of inventory sitting on car lots throughout America. They are actually at an advantage....some manufacturers have three years worth. Needless to say, they really needed to sell us that van.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Saturday came. It was Katy's birthday, so I was busy. I did not have time to deal with ridiculous deal making and I certainly was not going to go sit at the dealership for an extended length of time...again. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Around 3:00, after several back and forth phone calls, we were told to come get the van. I made it perfectly clear that there would be no more negotiating and that I had a total of 1 hour to spare. That's it!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">When we arrived our van was waiting for us. It had been washed and was ready to take home. It looked so nice and shiny in the sunlight! </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">In a matter of 30 minutes, we had signed papers, and were given the keys. I sat in my brand spanking new Nissan Quest and breathed in the new car smell. It was intoxicating. Driving home was like some kind of dream. It was smooth. Nothing was leaking. The kids were constantly messing with buttons and wondering why I didn't come prepared with a DVD to watch.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">My van is now parked in my garage looking all new and sparkly. I keep coming up with excuses to drive it. I know it will not look sparkly for long.....did I mention I have 4 kids?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">The car shopping experience was not pleasant. It was stressful and full of a lot of bologna! But, if you can get past all of that, now is a great time to buy. Just stick to your guns, and don't eat the hot dogs....I'm just sayin =).</span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-73579103505357331812008-08-04T13:10:00.002-04:002008-08-04T13:32:47.249-04:00A Deer in the Headlights or Buying a New Car....(part two)<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So there we were, needing to go to the dealership. It felt somewhat like Daniel being led to the lion's den or Nemo being scooped up by that diver. Anyhoo...</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">We had decided before we left that we would not be victims! No siree, we knew all about this vehicle, and we knew what we would and would not pay for it. All we wanted to do was take it for a spin and make sure that I felt comfortable.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">When we pulled onto the parking lot, it was in the middle of a tsunami. I was thinking this was a plus for us. Afterall, what salesman in their right mind would want to come out in this kind of mess? I was wrong. Right away we were approached by a young guy with a giant umbrella and a much to eager smile on his face. We'll call him J.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">J was obviously new at this car selling thing. He couldn't answer all our questions, and he didn't even have his own business cards yet. Score for us! We drove the van, and immediately decided it was the one we wanted!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">We presented J with our offer. We knew our stuff. I had written down all facts, figures, rebates and number of hot dogs allowed per customer. All we had to do was wait.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">They did all of our paperwork and after about an hour and a half, sweet, inexperienced J came to report to us that all of the lenders were closed for the night and that it would be tomorrow before we could do anything.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I'm pretty sure this was code for <em>I'm new and if I am going to make any money off of you people I need a night to come up with a plan.</em></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-71921079910832692532008-08-03T16:47:00.005-04:002008-08-03T17:06:03.113-04:00A Deer in the Headlights or Buying a New Car....(part one)<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;">Our trusty minivan has recently been having some health issues. Let's just call it what it is....a terminal illness with no hope for recovery. This obviously has put us in the position of needing a new car.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Now in order to make our car shopping experience perfectly clear to you, I need to give you a little background. </span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I have been driving a minivan for the last 11 years. I have been desperately wanting a big, road hogging, air polluting SUV so as to establish my coolness on the road. In all of our <em>when we get a new car </em>discussions that has been my preference. Something shiny, loaded with extras and did I mention BIG! </span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">But alas, we ran into a little glitch in my plan. It's called $4.00 a gallon. My hopes for an SUV were fading fast, and we unfortunately did not strike oil in our backyard while digging flower beds. So.....</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I became resigned to another minivan.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">My minivan research began on the internet, where all research of any value begins. I read all the info, specs, engine parts (which I totally did not understand) and options on all the top models. I had pretty much decided that there were really only two options. These were the only vehicles I would accept and be seen driving in the minivan world.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Then the newspaper came...</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">There was an ad for a local dealership offering all kinds of rebates, incentives and free hot dogs if you would buy their car. Apparently salesmen are a little desperate these days. There was one problem with this....their minivan was not on my approved list.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Since I like to give all automakers a fair shot, I decided to research this particular van. It looked good. Really good. It had reviews. Really good ones. And it was shiny. Really shiny!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">We decided that this would definitely be an option for us. There was one problem....we needed to see it in person.</span></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-56648431587149976932008-07-28T08:16:00.005-04:002008-07-28T08:29:24.933-04:00Where O Where Has My Mojo Gone?....<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;">To quote a friend....<em>I have lost my mojo. </em>I am feeling drained, zapped of energy and dull. I am restless and discontent and I need to recover NOW! Too many people are depending on me to feed them, clothe them, clean up after them and run my taxi service. My mojo needs to come back.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">The work schedule that Brian has been on (7 days a week, 14+ hours a day) has really made my life difficult. I feel like a single parent running on empty. My patience is short and my days are long. </span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">In case you think this sounds like a gripe session and that all I am doing is complaining .....you would be correct. I am griping and complaining and it feels good! Somedays you just need to vent. You just need to tell the entire internet how you feel. I considered doing this in video form on YouTube, but I feared arrest and conviction. </span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Oh well, this is the situation that we are in right now and there's not really much I can do about it. I guess I need to pull myself up by my bootstraps...or flip flops, and get a grip.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Now where o where could my mojo be?.......</span></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-69938715135679696022008-07-25T08:26:00.004-04:002008-07-28T08:30:55.438-04:00Bikinis, Piercings, and a Good Healthy Diet....<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;">An afternoon at the city pool can be so enlightening. My friend Amy and I took our herd of children (8 total) to the pool the other day for some fun in the sun. Now let me tell you about Amy. She is my long lost twin that was separated from me at birth, only a couple years older. We are so alike in every way that it's a little freaky....in a good way. I love her and that's all I'll say about that!</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">So....while at the pool, we started to notice some things that made us feel a little out of place, even inferior, to the other women there. </span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">First, we were not wearing bikinis. Now I haven't worn a bikini since I was 17 and don't plan on starting to wear one anytime soon. Amy felt the same way. The thing was, these women in bikinis were not super models. They were moms, with imperfect bodies, and frankly they should not be wearing anything that exposes that much jiggle! And just in case you think I'm being unkind, I also should not wear anything that exposes my jiggle. See, I hold myself to the same standards.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Secondly, there was an awful lot of navel bling. I don't necessarily think there is anything wrong with poking a hole in your belly button....if that's what floats your boat, but apparently you should only do it if you are 13 or extra jiggly. It makes me hurt just thinking about it. I have always had a sensitive navel.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Tattoos. They were everywhere. Everything from hearts to large scary dragons were flashing their colors and swimming through the waters. I have to say that I happen to like some tattoos. Amy and I even discussed getting matching ones or little ones to express ourselves and show our very tiny rebellious sides. I mean nothing says <em>I'm rebelling</em> like a cute little daisy on your ankle! My fear about the tattoo is that at some point my daisy will look wilted because of skin saggage...</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">After much people watching, discussion and soul searching, Amy and I decided that we also needed to lose weight. We will do this by eating Nutella. It is made from nuts and that makes it healthy. We might throw in a few hot wings just for good measure.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">In the conclusion of our discussion, we realized that if we wanted to fit in at the pool next year, some changes were going to have to take place. We will need to go bikini shopping. Not only will it give us the required swimwear, but I'm sure we would both end up peeing our pants just from the experience. We also should get an extra piercing. The location is debatable. Tattoos will need to be required. Amy said that someone told her that tattoos hurt. This made us laugh. We have both given birth to 4 children. Nothing hurts!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">And lastly with our weight loss plan of Nutella and hot wings, we should both have the proper body type to flaunt our new found fabulousness at the pool.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Summer.... tis the season of revelation......</span></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-14231961851358913632008-07-15T07:24:00.004-04:002008-07-28T08:31:37.750-04:00Baby Got Back!....<span style="color:#006600;"><span style="font-size:130%;">He's home! We picked Tyler up from the airport around 8:45 last night. I have to say the sight of him walking toward me was so much better than the one of him </span><a href="http://theresafishinthetoothbrushholder.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-hes-off.html"><span style="font-size:130%;">walking away</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;">! After two weeks in the Bahamas he was slightly exhausted. I know, I know, how can the Bahamas be that exhausting?</span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">He built a firehouse....</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">He layed concrete.....</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">He built trusses....</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">He did roofing....</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">That would exhaust me! He also had the oppportunity to play with a group of kids and teach them a little about Jesus. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I'm not going to talk about his free time where he apparently jumped from a 25 foot high cliff into a bottomless hole in the ocean. And thankfully he did not need emergency care for discovering he was allergic to shellfish, or hacking his fingers with a machete while trying to split open a coconut. (real things that happened to other kids)</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I'm sure I will be sharing lots of stories as I hear them in the days to come. Right now I'm just savoring having my baby back as he sleeps soundly upstairs.</span><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#006600;"></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-49936036369786748322008-07-08T06:44:00.004-04:002008-07-28T08:32:30.142-04:00If You Give a Kid a Weapon....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wVt6mQYcREJflRAPHzlz69Z8qxwCy-MRlMY2Hqkjud4QMOas4jwZt-NQT6kbaHYW6lon3O4AKBNu1vbUswIzM9gAZqs7k9iBHY-FY9jd9zA_jz8JmdiGLuJHqHXEFx7VO7kS4KHWLzI/s1600-h/4872CA01000E73D4000041962207300033CBC99D0D9D0E099A9C.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220596912409493778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wVt6mQYcREJflRAPHzlz69Z8qxwCy-MRlMY2Hqkjud4QMOas4jwZt-NQT6kbaHYW6lon3O4AKBNu1vbUswIzM9gAZqs7k9iBHY-FY9jd9zA_jz8JmdiGLuJHqHXEFx7VO7kS4KHWLzI/s320/4872CA01000E73D4000041962207300033CBC99D0D9D0E099A9C.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Josh has taken up fencing for the summer. This is not fencing like putting up a fence or painting a fence or climbing a fence. This is the actual sport of fencing......you know, En Garde! Apparently he saw a fencing match on one of those fabulous Disney channel sitcoms that we cannot escape from, and decided this was the sport for him. Now let me explain something about Josh. He has opted out of several sports because he doesn't want people to look at him. This is always a confusing fact for me since he seems to regularly draw attention to himself, but whatever.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Anyhoo....</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">After spending a week or more trying to locate a fencing instructor, (apparently it's not that popular), we were able to start lessons. Now you might be saying to yourself, "self, don't people look at you in fencing?" and you would be correct. The difference is you wear a mask, so you are basically incognito! The mask by the way is at least 10 times bigger than Josh's head. </span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">The big draw for Josh though isn't the mask, or the somewhat weird french terms. Oh no siree....it's the SWORD! That's right, I bought my 6 year old a sword! Can you say mother of the year?!!</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Technically it's called a foil (weird french), and it doesn't have a pointy tip. However, a non pointy tipped foil in the hands of a very zealous 6 year old could still have a few unpleasant ramifications. Safety first!</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So for the summer we get to watch the class of four students (I mentioned it wasn't very popular) advance, retreat, lunge and fake stab each other. It really is quite amusing. I don't know how long Josh will stick with it. Right now it is his entire world. Who knows, he could be the next Olympic champion! What do you think?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqhkqekOewA8IHaNI3w9Lkp9b07kMriF6EkCWzTA97oHWW0Wr8pd1qiFS0IJhYqUXR4jaZ6mH8_y1pEXrlL2m6IOI-pmvW77w1u8y6B6yTNFYt1-D3_vhiLPcrPL0R5hSyFW89huSbAA/s1600-h/4872C9C9000A434B00003DED2207300033CBC99D0D9D0E099A9C.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220596516099445330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXqhkqekOewA8IHaNI3w9Lkp9b07kMriF6EkCWzTA97oHWW0Wr8pd1qiFS0IJhYqUXR4jaZ6mH8_y1pEXrlL2m6IOI-pmvW77w1u8y6B6yTNFYt1-D3_vhiLPcrPL0R5hSyFW89huSbAA/s320/4872C9C9000A434B00003DED2207300033CBC99D0D9D0E099A9C.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></div></div>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-91369044396343767602008-07-03T07:16:00.006-04:002008-07-28T08:33:16.141-04:00I Think We're Ready!....<span style="color:#006600;"></span><span style="color:#006600;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;">See all these explosives sitting on my kitchen table? You know, the ones with TNT stamped on them? Well this is what my biggest child (i.e. Brian) spent money on last night!</span><br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bo06obeM8DS4WWaiKujJi2EJsigVy_I_bI8waIdDnFS6dAx_FQ1Cqu_VWiJWYZlZKN3dWzb1zZdAtMbRxl68MK-gPD0h1x3gcgTb2Vtl4fN75pRG3JGm8JBrVg-5tcqSx33BvhWFg5o/s1600-h/100_7646.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218745661355292994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8bo06obeM8DS4WWaiKujJi2EJsigVy_I_bI8waIdDnFS6dAx_FQ1Cqu_VWiJWYZlZKN3dWzb1zZdAtMbRxl68MK-gPD0h1x3gcgTb2Vtl4fN75pRG3JGm8JBrVg-5tcqSx33BvhWFg5o/s320/100_7646.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I'm pretty sure that July 4th is his favorite holiday. I mean when else can you blow things up legally? There is no greater joy than attempting to light your neighborhood on fire with 5000 small explosives....right? Here's the kicker, he has already shot some of them off and we haven't even officially reached the holiday! I wouldn't be surprised if he came home today with more, after all they are buy one get one free. How come that never works when I'm shoe shopping?!</span></div>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-1243722348372395392008-07-01T14:12:00.004-04:002008-07-28T08:33:52.185-04:00And He's Off!....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijPJ-K-mnS1nkNg5ZsR_CVRy8cLFSPyAWKCghBATMP9PDwh1fiHroXliWlISq67OdWLMMqNJmy9ezDPDiFC8P13MStyCUQbmm5W5A595OUZ0UqIsje6HJi4X-x0_8UzItXWRxCRBis3Qo/s1600-h/486A36F500099DE5000039EE2200750744CBC99D0D9D0E099A9C.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218110394840493714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijPJ-K-mnS1nkNg5ZsR_CVRy8cLFSPyAWKCghBATMP9PDwh1fiHroXliWlISq67OdWLMMqNJmy9ezDPDiFC8P13MStyCUQbmm5W5A595OUZ0UqIsje6HJi4X-x0_8UzItXWRxCRBis3Qo/s200/486A36F500099DE5000039EE2200750744CBC99D0D9D0E099A9C.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">This morning I watched, with a knot in my stomach, as my firstborn walked away from me toward security at the airport. He is headed to the Bahamas for a mission trip with our church youth group. As he stood there with his friends (who are all taller than he is) waiting to go, I could tell he was both excited and nervous. All of the months of preparation, hard work and training had finally brought him to the point of departure. He has spent countless hours studying, doing yard work for neighbors and washing cars. I am extremely proud of him! He told me the other day that he thinks that God might be calling him to missions....did I mention I'm extremely proud of him!! </span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I don't know what the next two weeks will bring for him. It will be hard work, hot weather and uncomfortable. He will have no air conditioned living room to play video games in. He won't be able to hop in the car and go see a movie with his friends, and he won't have a cell phone attached to his ear. It will be good for him. I am praying that God will use Tyler and his team in a mighty way over the course of this trip. I want him to be stretched and have a need to be dependent on God for his strength. I hope that you will join me in this prayer for him and for his safety.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">If you want you can pray for me too....I miss him already!</span></div>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-78092324432947481052008-06-26T07:05:00.004-04:002008-07-28T08:34:24.989-04:00Yummy Cesear Salads!....<span style="color:#006600;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I'm lovin' all of the fun summer blog carnivals and swaps! Today </span><a href="http://thebigmamablog.com/"><span style="font-size:130%;">Big Mama</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> is asking us to share our favorite summer recipes. I don't know about you, but turning on the oven or even the grill when it's 90+ degrees outside is not very appealing to me, so cool alternatives are always welcome in my kitchen!</span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">My family loves Cesear Salads, so I like to doctor them up with a little meat to make it more filling. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Just tear up some lettuce, iceberg works best. Throw in whatever leftover meat you have, chicken and steak are our favorites. (make sure the meat has been sliced and chilled) Toss in some parmesan cheese, croutons and your favorite Cesear dressing and VOILA! you have a yummy cold summer meal.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">The key for the best chilled salad is to put it in the freezer for about 10 minutes before serving. This makes it crunchy and extra cold.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Throw some bread on the table and you are done! Mmm Mmm Good....Enjoy!!</span></span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-65577941412631793652008-06-25T09:06:00.003-04:002008-06-26T06:42:11.183-04:00Don't Push Me People!....<span style="color:#006600;">Recently, my son Tyler, opened a Facebook account. We decided to go with Facebook rather than MySpace for security and content reasons. So.... he got on there, did whatever it is you have to do to sign up, and within a couple of hours was conversing with his gajillion friends. It actually is quite amazing when you think about it. </span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">However, there was a little glitch....</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">The next day when he went to log on, his account had been disabled. This was puzzling. He followed the link to the "explanation" page and guess what it said...go ahead, guess....ok I'll just tell you. It said, <em><strong>sorry you can't be on here cause you're homeschooled</strong>. </em>I'm paraphrasing here, but that's the main gist of it. </span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">As you can imagine he was more than a little upset and my other personality started to show. (that would be the one that breathes fire and has snakes for hair) I promptly sent them an email kindly explaining that I felt they were discriminating against my son and other homeschoolers and how I felt that we should not be excluded because of our educational choices. Then we waited....</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Several days later I received a response. It went something like this:</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"><strong><em>We're sorry, but for security purposes we can only correspond with the actual account holder. Please have your son send us an email from his account expressing his concerns.</em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"><strong><em>Thank you, </em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"><strong><em>Mr. Techy Support Guy who is probably making you really angry. </em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Ok, I made that last part up, but he might as well have signed it that way.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">People, did I mention that my son is a minor? That's right, he's underage in all 50 states! He can't vote, drink, drive or receive medical care without my signature, however I cannot do email correspondence on his behalf to a major corporation?! (insert snake hair!)</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">So I did what any fire breathing, snake haired mother would do. I sent the email from his address. It was kind of like a secret identity thing...I knew it was from me, but they didn't. Clever huh? Again we waited...</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">This time it only took a few hours to get a response. Guess what they said. Go ahead guess...nevermind I'll just tell you again.</span><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#006600;">We have reactivated your account. The reason it was disabled was because you were sending friends requests to people you didn't know. In the future please only send requests to people you know.</span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#006600;">Thank you,</span></em></strong><br /><span style="color:#006600;"><strong><em>Mr. Techy Support Guy, is your mom still breathing fire</em></strong>?</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">Again I'm paraphrasing, but you get the point. How in the holy schmoly did they go from <em><strong>you</strong> <strong>can't be on here cause you're homeschooled</strong> </em>to <em><strong>don't talk to people you don't know</strong></em>? How do they know who his friends are? And incidentally, his friends list consisted of every single kid in the church youth group, his nana, aunts and uncles, and oh yeah me! Maybe they felt he shouldn't be talking to fire breathing, snake for hair people.</span><br /><span style="color:#006600;">I'm glad the incident is settled even though I feel like they were copping out by not facing the original homeschool issue! It was a good lesson for Tyler in standing up and fighting for what you believe in.</span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-2543906430884727472008-06-24T07:16:00.002-04:002008-06-24T07:19:00.587-04:00Confetti, Poppy Thingys, and Hoorah!....<span style="color:#006600;">So I just wanted to give a big SHOUT OUT!! to all of you who left comments on my room! Thanks so much for the encouragement and humor! It was great to read some of your blogs for the first time and I look forward to getting to know you better! </span>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8326117108640249995.post-4031753619317524362008-06-16T07:41:00.006-04:002008-06-16T08:03:25.168-04:00It's Definitely Not Perfect....<span style="color:#006600;">So <a href="http://nestingplacenc.blogspot.com/">Nester</a>, one of my favorite blogs, is hosting a </span><span style="color:#6600cc;"><em>"It Doesn't Have to Be Perfect to Be Beautiful"</em></span><span style="color:#006600;"> carnival? party? We'll just call it a thingy! Anyhoo....</span><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212444549835172274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCaQxUK6p0yq45waMqPBl_vHvbH4RPjU4oIzd6FAHNa1NaxAWZb1lQBKvTqc4py9YaiR1s7upearciuceUaxmdbuZSDGNZz2J-PljVXYTwgfKzfccnUa_S3iKapZCT5FgNFY3E8VTff3E/s200/100_7586.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="color:#006600;">This room has been my second biggest frustration for the past 6 months. When we started it was supposed to take 1 month, then Brian's work schedule changed (my first biggest frustration) and we are still working on it with no end in sight. However, even through the frustration I can see it's potential beauty. </span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212445594612490130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7iiq5A4Jc3UiNnCC8rWtdTFvuJaIGKDqYzeKQdpSOC7Xe_f5mJDAGXVfwSetCMSU_RLiCTtURqUdVPWQiPZYzga8xrRl_Wc_kQ7YF-KnhfHwFKwgQLLQq2a7Rc1Lu-RugVwrw1eyidY/s200/100_7587.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">For example, the paint color is so yummy it makes me want to lick the walls. We have already picked out the new carpet. But more important than the superficial beauty, I can picture the beauty of family memories that will take place in this room. Parties, holidays, and game nights will eventually warm it's barren atmosphere. I get excited just thinking about it.</span><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212446492331653650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7SSUxpv_rg2IuT9RqFTBOxhUTzh0nXr7qV1uXbNeIS1_ErFexU9mTQcoMnx__kKkeIyy5e_Ts6AfevtC1SJYEW4BvhZj5CVWrJwM5HwueyyF6FjvtZJTooExdZjUbwo97j3unBiFuzJM/s200/100_7588.jpg" border="0" /></p><p><span style="color:#006600;">Now if I could just get the boys to take the body target out of the window!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br /></p><p><span style="color:#006600;"></span></p><br /><p></p>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01560620955678589772noreply@blogger.com12