<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:46:02.027-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Everyday Life of A MilShelb Mom</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>341</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8389633061885022318</id><published>2012-02-11T19:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T19:10:23.235-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Some Thoughts</title><content type='html'>I saw this quote today and it has really made me think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a perfect person. I know that. I have plenty of flaws. I demand excellence- from myself and others. I work hard. Very hard. I throw myself into all sorts of things and burn out quickly. I laugh too loud. I laugh when I'm nervous... which can sometimes be at totally inappropriate times. I tell people the truth. Now, normally this would be a good thing, but let's face it- people do not want the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ok with all of that. Because, I have learned to be me. To accept me. To build me. To create me. To love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always have the best of intentions in all that I do. I mean that. I know intentions don't count for much, but it's a start. I put my heart and soul into all I do. I give my all to all I do. My philosophy is that if you aren't going to do it right you just shouldn't bother doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a teacher. I don't have time to waste. I am not allowed to waste time. No really. Think about it. Time wasted is time that is taken from someone's education, from someone's future. So, it's a big deal. I follow through. I start with good intentions and I, normally, end with good results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not perfect. I am full of flaws. Those flaws make me who I am. Good intentions and all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8389633061885022318?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8389633061885022318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/just-some-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8389633061885022318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8389633061885022318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2012/02/just-some-thoughts.html' title='Just Some Thoughts'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-628044395037811026</id><published>2012-01-01T10:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T10:52:44.979-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Beginnings in a New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;Every year people make New Years Resolutions. They make resolutions to eat healthier, exercise more, drink less, keep in touch with loved ones more, etc, etc, etc. While these are all well and good (and I could certainly benefit from the first 2) they don't really make a difference and most of the time only last a week or two. I won't lie. I do this, too. I think last year it might have been to be more positive. (Which, if we're being honest here, and I am, is a silly thing for me to do because I really am a pretty positive person. I do truly try to see the bright side of things and I try to do good for others when possible.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;In the Bible (Luke 6:31) it says "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." I really try to keep that in mind. I try to help others just like I would want help and, sometimes, end up being much nicer than others are to me. Whatever. I want people to be nice to me, treat me kindly and with respect, and so that's what I give them. Am I perfect? No. Do I fail sometimes? Yep. (More than I care to admit.) Sometimes I find myself in the middle of a sentence and realize it should have never started to come out of my mouth and, unfortunately, many times it is at Jake when I am upset about something completely unrelated to him that he has nothing at all to do with.&amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;The point of this entire post is that there is a big problem in America. A problem that breaks my heart. One that hurts me deeply. One that I want to do something about. That problem is the large number of homeless animals. I know I have written on here before that I want to do something to help. I do cross-post things and try to help places network for their animals. People think I am crazy because Milly and Shelby have a better life than a lot of people I know. They have an awesome life. Why? Because I believe in doing unto others as I would have them do unto me. I believe that my parents raised me to love others regardless of their social status, race, religion, or (in this case) breed. Milly and Shelby were not pound pups. They were given to Jake and me by his parents. If we didn't take them they would still have had loving homes and would still be happy and healthy. However, there are many animals out there who don't get that chance. I have come to the conclusion that I cannot have another dog right now. That is not fair to Milly and Shelby. I have accepted that and am trying to be a "big girl" and put them first. And, being perfectly honest, that wouldn't even put a dent in the problem I'm talking about.&amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;Of course, you could argue the&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ordinarypeoplechangetheworld.com/articles/the-starfish-story.aspx"&gt;story of the starfish&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;which I believe fits teachers and animal rescuers alike. You can make a difference for one animal at a time and that makes a difference. I am a teacher. I spend my day working that way. I try my best to make a difference for the 18 people in my room every single day. It is tough, but I truly believe in what I do and I put my heart and soul into it. There are many things I would change about teaching if ever given the chance, but there is nothing I would change in my room, because I am able to do the most good in my room with my kids every day. I love my job.&amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;I know to truly make a difference for these&amp;nbsp;animals, though, you have to start at the top. There are so many people "in the&amp;nbsp;trenches" so to speak working (much like I do) every single day to&amp;nbsp;make&amp;nbsp;a difference for one. To get that one a home. To work for that one to get out of the shelter and into foster, rescue, or a home. They work hard. They give their heart and soul to that job. I am amazed by people like that. To say that I don't have the stomach for it is an understatement. It would kill me (and I mean that) to know that if I didn't find that one a home it would be put to sleep. Goodness. I think I would turn into a cold hearted person. Not them. They just keep going. They just keep doing. Because they know they have to. They know if they don't no one will. They know if they don't then none of those animals will have a chance. Here's the thing. There needs to be someone who has the time (and they certainly don't because they have to keep working to find the animals a way out) to make a change. There has to be a change. I am not saying the entire country is going to make a change. I know that is a silly, unrealistic thought. What I am saying is that I want to find a way to change the laws in South Carolina. We still have&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.change.org/petitions/ban-the-use-of-gas-chambers-in-south-carolina-shelters"&gt;gas chambers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;for these animals, for goodness sakes! That is&amp;nbsp;ridiculous!&amp;nbsp;We need to find a way to better educate people about having their animals spayed and neutered. We need to find a way to have more no kill shelters and less homeless animals. I know there is way to do this. Many countries do not have this problem. If they don’t have it, we shouldn’t either. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;I know that this all sounds like what we need to do, should do… you know, shoula-coulda-woulda stuff. But, it is important and something has to be done. I don’t know what yet. I don’t know how. I don’t know when. But, I do know that my resolution (along with keeping my house clean) is to work on this. I am going to research and become better educated myself… and then I am going to form some ideas… and then I am going to figure out the next step. I tend to bite off more than I can chew in my day to day life, but I am taking this seriously and in small steps. We shall see. So, for now I am starting a new blog to tell people about things I’ve learned and am finding in my research. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;The new blog can be found here: &lt;a href="http://milshelbmomsknowledge.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://milshelbmomsknowledge.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-628044395037811026?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/628044395037811026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-beginnings-in-new-year.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/628044395037811026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/628044395037811026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-beginnings-in-new-year.html' title='New Beginnings in a New Year'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-7228249642378958286</id><published>2011-12-28T08:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T08:14:09.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gMgY0wzNy4Y/TvsV9aWgq3I/AAAAAAAACMk/S6Sz9SUGhFM/s1600/DSCN4490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gMgY0wzNy4Y/TvsV9aWgq3I/AAAAAAAACMk/S6Sz9SUGhFM/s320/DSCN4490.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Today is my 26th (holy cow) birthday!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I am looking forward to spending it with friends, family, and my MilShelb!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-7228249642378958286?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7228249642378958286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/happy-birthday-to-me.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7228249642378958286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7228249642378958286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to Me!'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gMgY0wzNy4Y/TvsV9aWgq3I/AAAAAAAACMk/S6Sz9SUGhFM/s72-c/DSCN4490.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4373249227864890793</id><published>2011-12-24T00:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-24T00:08:00.929-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas MilShelb Dad</title><content type='html'>Jake,&lt;br /&gt;I just read the Christmas post I did for you last year. I am so glad that things are changing for the better for us every single day. We have truly come a long way. We got married jobless,&amp;nbsp;penniless, and were truly livin' on love. Kind of funny when you think about it. You know, the thing is that we have always had the things that matter most. We have always had each other. We have always had a strong mutual love and respect for each other. We have always had our MilShelb. We have always had awesome family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;This year our lives have changed drastically and for the better. We're both working (just like last year) and we've bought our first home together. We're both busy, but happily busy. We've learned to paint, fix toilets, tubs, sinks and patch walls. We've learned to rip out carpet and put down laminate flooring. We've learned to stretch our dollars to make the most of what we have. We've learned a great deal about working together and working&amp;nbsp;towards&amp;nbsp;common goals. We have truly become a team.&lt;br /&gt;I am so proud of us. I am proud of how much our hard work has paid off. I am proud of you. I am so proud to be married to a hard-working, loving, generous man. I am proud to have a husband who leads his family and loves his family. I am proud of you.&lt;br /&gt;You know, when we got married I loved you so so so much. I knew that the love I had for you then would change. It's supposed to. However, I didn't realize that the love would grow and turn into a truly deep love, respect, and admiration for you.&lt;br /&gt;You are a good man, Jake. A real good man. You are amazing. I love you. I choose you. Every single day. Don't you ever forget that.&lt;br /&gt;~Maggie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4373249227864890793?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4373249227864890793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/merry-christmas-milshelb-dad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4373249227864890793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4373249227864890793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/merry-christmas-milshelb-dad.html' title='Merry Christmas MilShelb Dad'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3890564498772100888</id><published>2011-12-22T12:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T12:23:13.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas, MilShelb!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EzW7SVTfeLI/TvNm-KQpyDI/AAAAAAAACK4/9QNPOXxOUT0/s1600/DSCN4306.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EzW7SVTfeLI/TvNm-KQpyDI/AAAAAAAACK4/9QNPOXxOUT0/s320/DSCN4306.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ohvycn-r-ps/TvNnB2Bn8jI/AAAAAAAACLA/hj8Z15xdom4/s1600/DSCN4303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ohvycn-r-ps/TvNnB2Bn8jI/AAAAAAAACLA/hj8Z15xdom4/s320/DSCN4303.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iTO_TzNc5jQ/TvNnFaET3zI/AAAAAAAACLI/HXEeyYoM7nQ/s1600/DSCN4261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iTO_TzNc5jQ/TvNnFaET3zI/AAAAAAAACLI/HXEeyYoM7nQ/s320/DSCN4261.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CcDQyJys5Jg/TvNnH8Jwb0I/AAAAAAAACLQ/Q0_SrU1vvTI/s1600/DSCN4257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CcDQyJys5Jg/TvNnH8Jwb0I/AAAAAAAACLQ/Q0_SrU1vvTI/s320/DSCN4257.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sFye3Bfo0ig/TvNnKmZL9PI/AAAAAAAACLY/G9ySkpVIzEo/s1600/DSCN4269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sFye3Bfo0ig/TvNnKmZL9PI/AAAAAAAACLY/G9ySkpVIzEo/s320/DSCN4269.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Merry Christmas, MilShelb! You make my life interesting. I love you. I am so glad you are my MilShelb babies! You make my life better just by being who you are. Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;~Mama Llama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3890564498772100888?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3890564498772100888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/merry-christmas-milshelb.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3890564498772100888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3890564498772100888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/merry-christmas-milshelb.html' title='Merry Christmas, MilShelb!'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EzW7SVTfeLI/TvNm-KQpyDI/AAAAAAAACK4/9QNPOXxOUT0/s72-c/DSCN4306.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-7209981574598387588</id><published>2011-12-17T13:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T13:40:07.221-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Laughed So Hard I Cried</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;You Know You're In A Dachshund House When....&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;1 Every purse and coat pocket is rifled when you walk through the door.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;2 The bed has sausage shaped lumps under the covers.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;3 The doggie door is only 8" high.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;4 You're face gets licked by a dog standing on the back of the couch.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;5 When you come into the house after being away only minutes and you are greeted like you've been gone for 10 years.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;6 When someone hands you a tennis ball as soon as you walk in the door.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;7 When the owner's introduce their Dachshund as their oldest son/daughter.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;8 Footstools are placed strategically around the furniture and bed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;9 The house is decorated with Dachshund items.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;10 The owner is decorated with Dachshund items.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;11 Gates are placed in each doorway.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;12 After the doorbell rings, you can't hear a thing for 10 minutes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;13 The alarm clock is set for HIS wake up time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;14 Dachshund "nose art" is proudly displayed on each window.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;15 There are at least 45 balls laying around the house.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;16 All socks, underwear, and shoes have holes in them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;17 The sign outside the house says, "Dachshund Lovers Parking Only."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;18 You have to look before you take a step.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;19 All squeak toys no long have squeaking ability.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;20 The doors to many rooms must remain closed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;21 The owner's bed never remains made.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;22 Rugs and furniture are all dark colors.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;23 The cat litter box magically cleans itself.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;24 You will find dogs instead of clothes in the laundry basket.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;25 When you arrive, you find the living room covered with chewed up tampons, toilet paper rolls, Kleenex, etc…&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;26 All snow is shoveled from the yard to protect the "Ta-Ta's" of male&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="posthilit" style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;Dachshunds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;27 You notice small fox holes in the yard.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;28 You are kindly told not to eat the green beans and carrots because they are for the dogs.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;29 Toy boxes are bone shaped.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;30 All waste baskets and trash cans are elevated at least 3 ft. from the ground.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;31 There is a Bissel Green Machine always within reach.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;32 A cupboard is full of tiny clothes that were purchased before the owner realized that&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="posthilit" style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;Dachshunds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;would rather remain nudists.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;33 Company doesn't come around much anymore.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;34 The owner talks a lot&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="posthilit" style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;getting a super king-sized bed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;35 The living room looks like it's covered with snow due to the batting which came out of de-stuffed toys.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;36 Blankets cover each piece of furniture for better burrowing purposes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;37 The owner had no food yet his Dachshund has plenty of premium dog food.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;38 The mailman is warned, "Watch out our he'll bite a hole in your sock."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;39 The mailman passes a brightly colored card to other mailmen saying, "A dangerous animal lives inside. Do not use mail slot."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;40 Bricks are placed inside trash cans so they don't get tipped over.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;41 The Dachshund gets kisses before the owner's significant other.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;42 The owner runs around looking for a "sitter" if they're going to be gone for more than a few hours.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;43 It is too dangerous to walk around the house without shoes because of partly chewed up Nyla-Bones.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;44 Little blue pee-pads are placed by the back door.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;45 You notice that The Dachshund's receive more Christmas presents than human kids.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;46 All the owner's computer "favorites" are Dachshund relate.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;47 The grass is mowed very very very short.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;48 There is always plenty of toilet paper to pick up poops.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;49 The owner's bed is covered with no less than 4 gutted toys, 3 balls, and 2 nyla-bones.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;50 You are immediately told not to sit in the dog's chair.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;-Unknown Author&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eff7fb; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Trebuchet MS', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;Found &lt;a href="http://fureverdachshundrescue.freeforums.org/dachshund-poems-quotes-t140.html"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-7209981574598387588?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7209981574598387588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-laughed-so-hard-i-cried.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7209981574598387588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7209981574598387588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-laughed-so-hard-i-cried.html' title='I Laughed So Hard I Cried'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1253326707905571743</id><published>2011-12-17T08:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T08:53:47.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazed</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="250" width="250"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widget.chipin.com/widget/id/a7ca24e1d9a855e8"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="event_title" value="Fire%20Recovery%20Chip-in"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget.chipin.com/widget/id/a7ca24e1d9a855e8" flashVars="event_title=Fire%20Recovery%20Chip-in" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowScriptAccess="always" wmode="transparent" width="250" height="250"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! What a day.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a good day, but then I came home and saw that a horrible tragedy had struck in Houston to some of Milly and Shelby's blog friends. My heart broke. I cried. It amazes me that I do not know these people in real life, but I suppose I feel a bond with them- a pet lover's bond. I know that people who are obsessed enough with their pets to sit around and blog about them... those people are alright in my book. I understand them. I understand people who truly care about their animals. I understand people who put pets first. I understand people who love their pets and treat them with love and kindness and respect. I respect people like that.&lt;br /&gt;I know some people think it's one of my quirks. You know, that I am MilShelb-obsessed and have a blog about them and they have their own blog. I send our Christmas cards for them. And, just you wait, Christmas this year is BIG for the MilShelb. I love those two little dogs more than life itself. It is crazy? Maybe. Or maybe it's the one thing that keeps me from going insane!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say all of this to come to this point:&lt;br /&gt;Dear Fellow Pet Bloggers-&lt;br /&gt;You rock. You are an awesome group of people. You remind me daily that there are people in this&amp;nbsp;world&amp;nbsp;who are good. Good, strong, respectable people. I am truly blessed by your presence in my life- even if it is only through the computer. I am blessed to know you and your fur babies. I feel lucky to have been brought into your lives and your homes. You love Milly and Shelby. You care about them. You keep up with us. You are awesome. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;I am amazed at the outpouring of generosity that you have shown to the Pittie Pack. Wow. I just cannot put it into words. I am humbled by you.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Truly Happy and Blessed New Year.&lt;br /&gt;~Maggie (MilShelb's Mom)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1253326707905571743?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1253326707905571743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/amazed.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1253326707905571743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1253326707905571743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/amazed.html' title='Amazed'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-2647139388145054317</id><published>2011-12-01T17:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T17:58:57.219-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Shelby</title><content type='html'>I am sitting here on the couch with Shelby on my lap and a thought popped into my head, "What would it be like to love and trust someone so much and not be able to understand them?" Shelby has no clue what I'm saying, but she trusts me and loves me. Then it&amp;nbsp;occurred&amp;nbsp;to me that I love and trust Shelby and I can't understand a single thing that comes out of her mouth. So, I guess love and trust isn't just about words... but feelings and actions. I hold her, pet her, talk to her, feed her... she trusts me. She kisses me, cuddles in close to me, runs to greet me... she loves me. I love her, too. She's a sweet sweet Shelby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OIZnEdPHd40/TtgGnVqbigI/AAAAAAAACKQ/rN5yZ4noW_Q/s1600/DSCN4180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OIZnEdPHd40/TtgGnVqbigI/AAAAAAAACKQ/rN5yZ4noW_Q/s320/DSCN4180.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-2647139388145054317?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2647139388145054317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/sweet-shelby.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2647139388145054317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2647139388145054317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/12/sweet-shelby.html' title='Sweet Shelby'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OIZnEdPHd40/TtgGnVqbigI/AAAAAAAACKQ/rN5yZ4noW_Q/s72-c/DSCN4180.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6711006006266462525</id><published>2011-11-27T11:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T11:25:00.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Struggling</title><content type='html'>Oprah once said, "Where there is no struggle, there is no strength." I found this quote while looking up quotes about struggling. Weird thing to look for? Sure. But, not so weird when you feel like you are struggling with something.&lt;br /&gt;You see, I am a person with very few passions in life. I think that because I have few passions in life, I feel very strongly about them. One of those passions is animal welfare. If you are a regular&amp;nbsp;around&amp;nbsp;here (or know me in person) you know that the MilShelb (my miniature Dachshunds) are my life. Many would call them spoiled. I don't think they are. I really think that Jake and I work hard every day to give them the life that we feel they deserve. They have good, wholesome food to eat because we want them to be healthy and strong. They have&amp;nbsp;regular&amp;nbsp;visits to the vet because we believe in preventative medicines. (And, we both believe in the saying, "If you can't pay the vet, don't have a pet.") They sleep in the bed with us because they deserve to be in a soft warm bed at night. They are loved and adored beyond measure. They deserve it. Because they add&amp;nbsp;more&amp;nbsp;joy to our lives than we will ever be able to repay.&lt;br /&gt;I realize that not many people take pet-ownership to the extreme that we do. That's ok. It's not necessary for you to bring your dog into your bed. It's certainly not necessary to buy expensive food (unless your dog has health problems like ours do). It's not even necessary to be so crazy about going to the vet that the vet tells you that you are overprotective. It IS necessary, however, to provide shelter, food, healthcare, and attention for your pet.&lt;br /&gt;It breaks my heart to see&amp;nbsp;animals who have been dumped at shelters. I am struggling with this. Not that it is anything new. Shelters have been around for a LONG time (sadly). They are becoming more and more over populated. The people who work at and volunteer for these shelters work hard. They know that there is a greater purpose to their work and their lives. They don't always "win the battle" so to speak, but they are out there fighting the "war" every single day.&lt;br /&gt;The thing I am struggling with is I want to help. I want to do something... anything! I feel helpless. I would love to have another dog. Heck, I'd go and adopt 10 more right now if I were only following my heart. However, that is not a good idea for us. We cannot afford to have another dog and continue to provide the material things MilShelb are&amp;nbsp;accustomed&amp;nbsp;to, nor can we pretend that we&amp;nbsp;will&amp;nbsp;continue to be able to provide the attention and time that MilShelb currently get. (Which, I will admit, is not nearly as much as I would like since we both work full-time jobs.) Either way you slice it, MilShelb would get the short end of the stick and that's not right. They are always our top priority. They have to be. So, I am left with the desire to help and I don't know how or what to do.&lt;br /&gt;This has really been weighing on my heart. It kills me that so many animals out there need homes. I am sure one day we will adopt another dog or 2, but now is not the time for that. I know there are other ways to&amp;nbsp;help. I just need to figure out what is the right way for me to help. I have debated going to the shelter and helping on the weekends and in the summer. I am just not sure I can handle it. I have thought about collecting things that they need (like blankets, etc). I am doing some soul searching about this.&lt;br /&gt;If anything awesome pops into your head about how I can help, please give me some ideas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until I figure this out, I will just say to everyone to please, please, please help stop the over population by spaying and neutering your pets! Please love your animals. Bring them in and make them a part of your home, life, and family. You cannot imagine how grateful they will be to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6711006006266462525?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6711006006266462525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/11/struggling.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6711006006266462525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6711006006266462525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/11/struggling.html' title='Struggling'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-5325203692221641033</id><published>2011-11-22T17:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T17:03:05.361-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving!</title><content type='html'>Happy Thanksgiving!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful to you all for reading this blog. I know at times it can be boring,&amp;nbsp;repetitive, (did I say) boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for Jake. He is the one who keeps me going. He reminds me where I've been, how far I've come, and keeps me headed in the right direction. He is awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for the MilShelb. What kind of MilShelb Mom would I be without being thankful for them? They are my pride and joy. I love those girls. I am thankful everyday for their tail wags, slobbery kisses, and happy greeting dances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for my family and friends. I am thankful for the people who keep me grounded, happy, and feeling secure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for my coworkers and students. They make my days worth it. My job is by no means an easy one, but it is fun and rewarding. I love it. I am thankful for the people who help me to love my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly, I am thankful for the many many blessings in my life. I am truly a blessed person and am so thankful for that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-5325203692221641033?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5325203692221641033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/11/happy-thanksgiving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5325203692221641033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5325203692221641033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving!'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6960143353414778029</id><published>2011-11-20T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T09:18:42.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weddings Do That...</title><content type='html'>I was in a wedding yesterday as a bridesmaid. Weddings always make me think about marriage (not such a crazy thing) and specifically my marriage. You know, I am one of those wives who sings her husband's praises pretty frequently- not that I think he is perfect, but that he is real. I was thinking on my way home last night about how lucky I am to have met and married Jake. I was thinking of how being married sort of provides this sense of confidence. (Or, at least, if you have a good marriage.) For example, I decided that I know three things for sure and because I know these things I can be confident in many things.&lt;br /&gt;1. I know that Jake will always make sure there is a roof over my head and a place to call home.&lt;br /&gt;2. I know that he will always be faithful to me.&lt;br /&gt;3. I know that he will always be honest with me.&lt;br /&gt;There are many things that Jake does that drive me nuts. (Just&amp;nbsp;like&amp;nbsp;there are millions of things I do that drive him nuts.) But, I know those three things without a doubt. Jake is not a "sugar-coater". He tells it like it is and I can always trust him to be completely honest. I may not always like what he has to say, but I can always respect the fact that he was honest with me about it. Jake and I had a rough start to our life together, but we have come a long way. We have worked hard and are continuing to work hard to truly live the life of our dreams. It is hard to believe that this time two years ago we didn't have jobs and we were truly struggling and now we have jobs, a house, and a pretty stable life. We have worked our rear ends off to get here, but we are so glad we are where we are. We aren't exactly where we want to be yet, but we are headed in the right direction every single day.&lt;br /&gt;On our wedding day, I gave Jake a ring that was engraved on the inside. It says, "I choose you." I tell him that from time to time. I chose him a long time ago (5 and a half years ago) and I choose him every day. I truly love the man I married and I am so grateful to him for the life he has built with me. It is truly an awesome feeling to know without a doubt that your husband loves you no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8jUvQCx_Edk/TskLq72vKzI/AAAAAAAACG4/xG0E1-zxHhM/s1600/DSCN4317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8jUvQCx_Edk/TskLq72vKzI/AAAAAAAACG4/xG0E1-zxHhM/s320/DSCN4317.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6960143353414778029?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6960143353414778029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/11/weddings-do-that.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6960143353414778029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6960143353414778029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/11/weddings-do-that.html' title='Weddings Do That...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8jUvQCx_Edk/TskLq72vKzI/AAAAAAAACG4/xG0E1-zxHhM/s72-c/DSCN4317.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4187236717586793845</id><published>2011-11-06T14:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-06T14:44:36.265-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking A Lot About This...</title><content type='html'>I'll admit it. I am one of those&amp;nbsp;people&amp;nbsp;who sits in front of the computer for long amounts of time looking at the dogs at the shelters who need homes. My heart breaks for them. It kills me to know that many of them will never leave the shelter. It breaks my heart to know that many of them ended up there due to no fault of their own, but due to complete and utter selfishness of the person they love. It brings me to tears many times because I just hate that so much for them.&lt;br /&gt;I cross-post things trying to help. I even attempted to foster a dog once. I cannot foster animals. It broke my heart to give her up and it wrecked my house to have her there. Milly and Shelby do not take kindly to other dogs.&lt;br /&gt;I want so badly to adopt a dog from a shelter. I want to add a dog to our family. This morning I did some research about how to best add another dog to your "pack" and based on what I read I am now even more convinced, sadly, that it would not be a wise decision. The websites I read recommended that if you have a female dog, it is best to add a male dog. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing&amp;nbsp;against&amp;nbsp;other&amp;nbsp;people&amp;nbsp;owning male dogs, but every male dog I've ever had much to do with is a sprayer. I absolutely cannot stand that quality. It would make me upset and I have worked too hard to have a nice home to have a dog come along and pee all over the walls. Don't act shocked. It happens. You know it does. The websites also said that you should think twice if you have aggressive dogs. It is not that Milly and Shelby are aggressive in every sense of the word. They do well with other people and they like other dogs... as long as they do not feel that they are trespassing on their property. I guess it is not&amp;nbsp;really&amp;nbsp;that they are aggressive as that they are territorial. They know that this is their home and their yard and they do not appreciate other animals in or near it. The website also talked about how you might want to get a different sized dog as that can help with easing the tension some. However, it also said that you don't want to get a dog that is so much different in size that it may harm your current dog by playing too roughly or even by walking over it. Milly and Shelby are small. They don't weigh 40 pounds combined. So, there went that idea. Some websites advised against getting a puppy if your dog is territorial because your dog may hurt the puppy. It also talked about making sure you have enough space to be able to separate them and had some comments that made me think about what I would do if this didn't work out. I know in my heart I could not possibly take a dog back to a shelter. the very thought of it makes me sick. I know I could not ask Milly and Shelby to live in a house where they used to rule and now are miserable, either. I would be torn and I would be in a horrible position.&lt;br /&gt;I hate that I have come to this conclusion, because I really do want another dog. I would love to have a bigger dog. I would love for our little family to have another furry friend to love. However, after reading all morning about this, I have decided that maybe what I want is not of concern. I have to remember that my job, first and foremost, is to make decisions with Milly and Shelby's best interest at heart and in mind. It is not really in their best interest to disrupt their household. It is not in their best interest to have their time with Jake and myself divided between them and another dog. It makes me sad, but for now I have decided we will continue to be a 4 member family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4187236717586793845?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4187236717586793845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/11/thinking-lot-about-this.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4187236717586793845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4187236717586793845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/11/thinking-lot-about-this.html' title='Thinking A Lot About This...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-7093784653631511066</id><published>2011-10-29T09:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T09:13:08.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It Frustrates Me</title><content type='html'>I find all of these Dachshunds on websites that need to be adopted because their owners got rid of them. It frustrates me. It really does. First of all, people talk about how Dachshunds are hard dogs to handle. I'll give them that. Out of love for the breed, I'll say there are some things you should know about Dachshunds before adopting one:&lt;br /&gt;1. They are stubborn. Really. They are very stubborn. (In fact, if your Dachshund isn't stubborn, there's something wrong with it.)&lt;br /&gt;2. They know it all. (Obviously they don't talk. But, you can tell by the way they act that they honestly believe they know everything.)&lt;br /&gt;3. They eat too much. They don't say no to food... so you have to say no to it for them. They need strict diets so that they are not overweight and putting strain on their backs. If you are a person who likes to show your dog love&amp;nbsp;through&amp;nbsp;food, you shouldn't have a Dachshund, otherwise you might literally love them to death.&lt;br /&gt;4. They are DIFFICULT to housebreak. VERY difficult. In fact, some of them may very well never be house broken (or at least not fully house broken). If you value a spotless house, a Dachshund is not for you.&lt;br /&gt;5. They need people. (Most dogs do.) If you are a person who is gone more than you are home, a Dachshund is not for you.&lt;br /&gt;6. Many are spiteful. They don't get mad- they get even. If you do something to make them angry, it WILL come back to bite you. (This may just be my 2, but I have a feeling it's not.)&lt;br /&gt;7. They need to be inside. They are not meant to be outside dogs and they will bark and bark and bark to let you know that. Put them in the house. Don't leave them out. They are small and do not do well with extreme (or even mild) heat or cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many positive things about Dachshunds that outweigh the bad. But, if you aren't willing to deal with the bad, then the good will never outweigh it for you. Above all, you must remember that a dog, any dog, is a lifetime commitment. It is&amp;nbsp;not&amp;nbsp;something to be taken lightly. That decision impacts another living being's life. Keep that in mind when deciding on a dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got Milly and Shelby (my precious Dachshunds) I did not know anything about Dachshunds. I have learned a great deal in the past 4.5 years. Some of what I have learned is listed in #s 1-7 above. Some of what I have learned was hard and learned the hard way. It hurt. It made me mad. It made me want to jump up and down and scream and yell and cry... but it never made me love them less... and never made me want to give them up. The fact of the matter is that Milly and Shelby bring so much joy to my life that there is&amp;nbsp;nothing&amp;nbsp;I would not do to keep them. They have a forever home here with me and my husband. They are loved and cared for. We understand that things happen and we have learned to take some preventative measures when necessary (like picking up shoes so they don't end up with holes in them and closing doors so the carpet isn't ruined). It's really a small price to pay for the joy they add to our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I am asking is that before you pick a dog, do your research. Make the right choice for you. If you want a dog who is full of personality, love-of-life, tail wags, sloppy kisses, funny dances, and warning barks... a Dachshund is for you. They are truly awesome dogs... but they are NOT your "typical" dog by any means. Please make an&amp;nbsp;informed&amp;nbsp;and educated decision.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-7093784653631511066?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7093784653631511066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/it-frustrates-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7093784653631511066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7093784653631511066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/it-frustrates-me.html' title='It Frustrates Me'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8694113190482017998</id><published>2011-10-09T19:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T19:28:32.455-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You</title><content type='html'>You keep me sane.&lt;br /&gt;You make me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;You make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;You come to my rescue.&lt;br /&gt;You know me.&lt;br /&gt;You love me.&lt;br /&gt;You are amazing.&lt;br /&gt;You. Are. My. Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love &lt;i&gt;you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8694113190482017998?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8694113190482017998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8694113190482017998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8694113190482017998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/you.html' title='You'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6655919249230152952</id><published>2011-10-02T08:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T08:38:31.572-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Rarely Admit This</title><content type='html'>And maybe that's part of the problem, but it's a hard thing to admit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rarely admit that I need other people. I try very hard to be independent (and am for the most part). I hate to admit that I can't do it all. I cannot be everything to everyone. I cannot be 10 different places at one time. I cannot be one person to someone and another person to someone else. It is so hard. Sometimes (ok, all the time) I bite off more than I can chew, so to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;My latest example: Here's is my life as it currently stands:&lt;br /&gt;Sunday- church (not nearly often enough), laundry, cleaning, grading/school work/preparing for my class I'm taking&lt;br /&gt;Monday- work, meeting, get ready for Tuesday, go home, make dinner (sometimes), watch tv, go to bed&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday- work, class, go home, eat dinner Jake made, watch tv, go to bed&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday- work, meeting, get ready for Thursday/plan for next week, go home, make dinner, watch tv, go to bed&lt;br /&gt;Thursday- work, plan for next week, make copies for next week, go home, make dinner, watch tv, go to bed&lt;br /&gt;Friday- work, finalize things for next week, go home, make dinner, watch tv, get a few things done around the house, to go bed&lt;br /&gt;Saturday- spend entire day doing things around the house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through all of this I am also being evaluated this year to hopefully get a continuing contract. It is exhausting. Utterly exhausting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6655919249230152952?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6655919249230152952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-rarely-admit-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6655919249230152952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6655919249230152952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-rarely-admit-this.html' title='I Rarely Admit This'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-221619764818218553</id><published>2011-10-02T08:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T08:24:59.028-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sanctus Real - Forgiven (Official Music Video)</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NZVjKrmvYYQ?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-221619764818218553?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/221619764818218553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/sanctus-real-forgiven-official-music.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/221619764818218553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/221619764818218553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/sanctus-real-forgiven-official-music.html' title='Sanctus Real - Forgiven (Official Music Video)'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/NZVjKrmvYYQ/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8489349179258835858</id><published>2011-10-01T16:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T16:50:33.552-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Ribbon Wreath</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n4Y8K1OlNWQ/Tod9D_LL0VI/AAAAAAAAB-Y/9hu-YH6bDmE/s1600/DSCN4117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n4Y8K1OlNWQ/Tod9D_LL0VI/AAAAAAAAB-Y/9hu-YH6bDmE/s320/DSCN4117.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8489349179258835858?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8489349179258835858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/halloween-ribbon-wreath.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8489349179258835858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8489349179258835858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/halloween-ribbon-wreath.html' title='Halloween Ribbon Wreath'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n4Y8K1OlNWQ/Tod9D_LL0VI/AAAAAAAAB-Y/9hu-YH6bDmE/s72-c/DSCN4117.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8048599627167880581</id><published>2011-10-01T16:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T16:09:57.931-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Birdies and Yard Work</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--Z5sjRkHh7E/TodzFwkJLRI/AAAAAAAAB-E/3_kOC4cv5JU/s1600/DSCN4102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--Z5sjRkHh7E/TodzFwkJLRI/AAAAAAAAB-E/3_kOC4cv5JU/s320/DSCN4102.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;They were&amp;nbsp;starting&amp;nbsp;to rust and not look so hot...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wMqFrYN0Twg/TodzI3bee8I/AAAAAAAAB-I/n1ir64QfqSM/s1600/DSCN4112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wMqFrYN0Twg/TodzI3bee8I/AAAAAAAAB-I/n1ir64QfqSM/s320/DSCN4112.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;So, now they're shining. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NYlozd21ENk/TodzJ_9MBOI/AAAAAAAAB-M/HV_ifBzfgk4/s1600/DSCN4113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NYlozd21ENk/TodzJ_9MBOI/AAAAAAAAB-M/HV_ifBzfgk4/s320/DSCN4113.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Perfect!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f4DZ3yrYw6Y/TodzO8XsV3I/AAAAAAAAB-Q/m8ZTW8ACjF8/s1600/DSCN4090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f4DZ3yrYw6Y/TodzO8XsV3I/AAAAAAAAB-Q/m8ZTW8ACjF8/s320/DSCN4090.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Before... pitiful, diseased bushes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_s9YSD0tTZE/TodzP4TGbfI/AAAAAAAAB-U/PW3E9c4m_s8/s1600/DSCN4091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_s9YSD0tTZE/TodzP4TGbfI/AAAAAAAAB-U/PW3E9c4m_s8/s320/DSCN4091.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;No more! Chopped them down, pulled them up... they're gone!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8048599627167880581?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8048599627167880581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/birdies-and-yard-work.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8048599627167880581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8048599627167880581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/10/birdies-and-yard-work.html' title='Birdies and Yard Work'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--Z5sjRkHh7E/TodzFwkJLRI/AAAAAAAAB-E/3_kOC4cv5JU/s72-c/DSCN4102.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4448159886062071335</id><published>2011-09-18T09:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T09:32:54.724-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Something You Miss</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SUoavySFzbQ/S-yVr8YP39I/AAAAAAAAAnU/BDVdiE8AFWo/s1600/5569_112072389920_678584920_1960527_7538355_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SUoavySFzbQ/S-yVr8YP39I/AAAAAAAAAnU/BDVdiE8AFWo/s320/5569_112072389920_678584920_1960527_7538355_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I haven't been&amp;nbsp;doing&amp;nbsp;this 30 day challenge... but I saw &lt;a href="http://katieslifejourney.blogspot.com/2011/09/day-18-something-you-miss.html"&gt;Katie's post&lt;/a&gt; and thought I'd join in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Something I miss is actually &lt;i&gt;someone&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;I miss. I miss Lily. She was our family pet growing up and she passed away last year. It's weird to go to my Mom's and not see her. Really, sometimes I look for her because I forget. She was so gentle with Milly and Shelby. She was always so sweet to me. So loving. I miss that sweet face and her loving eyes. I miss her company. I just plain ol' miss her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4448159886062071335?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4448159886062071335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/09/something-you-miss.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4448159886062071335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4448159886062071335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/09/something-you-miss.html' title='Something You Miss'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SUoavySFzbQ/S-yVr8YP39I/AAAAAAAAAnU/BDVdiE8AFWo/s72-c/5569_112072389920_678584920_1960527_7538355_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-2526977811820466533</id><published>2011-09-04T10:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T10:07:07.958-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Gamecocks!</title><content type='html'>Jake and I stay pretty busy. I don't ever feel like we get to spend enough time together. But, is there ever really "enough time" with someone you love? I don't think so. I think maybe it's because we started dating in high school and had a good bit of free time to spend together (of course, then we thought we were busy. I don't think I knew what busy was. lol) Today our lives are all about working, cooking, cleaning, fixing up the house, and spending time with the MilShelb. Mostly, our lives are all about working- unfortunately. Jake and I both have demanding jobs. I love my job, don't get me wrong, but I do wish we had similar schedules because Jake works a lot of weekends and weekends are my only free time. (I use that term loosely, of course, because I bring junk home to do over the weekends because we only get to hang out on the evenings really and I don't bring stuff home during the week. You know, I think teaching may be the only profession where people give you a funny look when you don't bring your work home with you. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anoy how, yesterday was our first game of the season. Jake is a die-hard Gamecock fan and we spent the day in Charlotte tailgating and then went to the game that night. It was great to spend time with Jake. We also got to spend time with Jake's brother, sister-in-law, and some people Jake grew up with. It was hot, but overall, it was a nice day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YMKZIub5Pbw/TmOFL3opJVI/AAAAAAAAB9U/8clbfrA85wE/s1600/DSCN4024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YMKZIub5Pbw/TmOFL3opJVI/AAAAAAAAB9U/8clbfrA85wE/s320/DSCN4024.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;This is when Jake offered to take a picture of me after I asked for one of both of us. I am somewhere in saying "no" when he took this. lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NISdrEReWm4/TmOFM1infeI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/PKrzZlIrb3I/s1600/DSCN4026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NISdrEReWm4/TmOFM1infeI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/PKrzZlIrb3I/s320/DSCN4026.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Me and Jake&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N_2MdWCb4Ww/TmOFOfYd2xI/AAAAAAAAB9c/ZfCh0PCgUww/s1600/DSCN4031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N_2MdWCb4Ww/TmOFOfYd2xI/AAAAAAAAB9c/ZfCh0PCgUww/s320/DSCN4031.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Here come the Gamecocks!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Y3PF1oJZjI/TmOFPRm1MSI/AAAAAAAAB9g/aYb50sJ4yPw/s1600/DSCN4037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3Y3PF1oJZjI/TmOFPRm1MSI/AAAAAAAAB9g/aYb50sJ4yPw/s320/DSCN4037.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;First kickoff of the Gamecock season!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vm_CEN0ZFPs/TmOFQTRT2XI/AAAAAAAAB9k/4pxoA1DrBs0/s1600/DSCN4041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vm_CEN0ZFPs/TmOFQTRT2XI/AAAAAAAAB9k/4pxoA1DrBs0/s320/DSCN4041.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Pretty building that was near us... of course, it had the wrong colors when I took the pic, but it did change colors throughout the night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-2526977811820466533?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2526977811820466533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/09/go-gamecocks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2526977811820466533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2526977811820466533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/09/go-gamecocks.html' title='Go Gamecocks!'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YMKZIub5Pbw/TmOFL3opJVI/AAAAAAAAB9U/8clbfrA85wE/s72-c/DSCN4024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6404461864044371203</id><published>2011-09-01T20:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T20:23:32.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God I Ain't...</title><content type='html'>I am going to an Eric Church concert in about 2 months with a great friend and I have been listening to his music to prepare (DORKY, I know). I found this song called "What I Almost Was" and part of it says, "Thank God I ain't what I almost was." Amen to that. I cannot tell you how many times I look back and think about how different my life would be if things had turned out this way or that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... I could have married my high school sweet heart... Thank God for Jake.&lt;br /&gt;... I could have quit college sophomore year and become a dental&amp;nbsp;hygienist... Thank God for a 4-year degree.&lt;br /&gt;... I could have moved to Florida when Jake got that job offer... Thank God for chickening out.&lt;br /&gt;... I could have done so many things differently... Thank God for leading me where He wants me to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just so glad to be who I am and not be who I could have been. I could have been a completely different person, but I am who I am. Thank God for that. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6404461864044371203?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6404461864044371203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/09/thank-god-i-aint.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6404461864044371203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6404461864044371203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/09/thank-god-i-aint.html' title='Thank God I Ain&apos;t...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8560109048295110284</id><published>2011-08-29T17:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T17:50:40.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Hard Sometimes</title><content type='html'>It's hard sometimes to just do the "grown-up" thing and get over it. But, I have to. I&amp;nbsp;have&amp;nbsp;to take the higher road and get out of the drama. Life is too short and I am too old for this mess. I need to learn to smile, nod, and keep my mouth shut. I'm working on it. lol! Old habits are hard to break.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8560109048295110284?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8560109048295110284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-hard-sometimes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8560109048295110284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8560109048295110284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-hard-sometimes.html' title='It&apos;s Hard Sometimes'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-9089774138949525395</id><published>2011-08-27T19:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T19:31:13.365-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friend Melissa</title><content type='html'>Just over a year ago I started my new job at my new school... and met my new friend, Melissa. Melissa quickly&amp;nbsp;became&amp;nbsp;my close school friend and quickly after that she moved on to being my best friend. Melissa is awesome. She really is. She's funny and has taught me a ton about shopping. I love to shop and Melissa always knows the deals going on and the best places to find coupons. I have bought more clothes with her this year than I have in the last 3 years combined. lol&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, it's just so nice to have someone you can hang out with and talk to and get to know and not feel dumb or judged. Melissa rocks!&lt;br /&gt;Melissa's husband is in the military and she is moving tomorrow... and will be pretty far away. It makes me so sad to lose such a great friend. Not that I've lost her... just that I have lost the frequent weekend shopping trips and lunches out. You see, I don't make friends easy. I'm a nice enough person, but I am a little odd. lol I'll admit it. So, I am just sad.&lt;br /&gt;Melissa is moving on to another state and a new phase in her life- motherhood! I am so excited for her and her husband. I cannot wait to go visit and meet her sweet baby when she is born.&lt;br /&gt;I know that I will miss her greatly. I already do! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qfBBUsbWcIk/Tll-MpYz3aI/AAAAAAAAB9Q/Dowvg_DYzUE/s1600/46849_10100454010057094_9350750_74530182_1595731_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qfBBUsbWcIk/Tll-MpYz3aI/AAAAAAAAB9Q/Dowvg_DYzUE/s320/46849_10100454010057094_9350750_74530182_1595731_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-9089774138949525395?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/9089774138949525395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/my-friend-melissa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/9089774138949525395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/9089774138949525395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/my-friend-melissa.html' title='My Friend Melissa'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qfBBUsbWcIk/Tll-MpYz3aI/AAAAAAAAB9Q/Dowvg_DYzUE/s72-c/46849_10100454010057094_9350750_74530182_1595731_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6806832373795708354</id><published>2011-08-26T19:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T19:58:44.944-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dave Barnes - God Gave Me You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I love this song!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5hQK6GIrpYU?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6806832373795708354?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6806832373795708354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/dave-barnes-god-gave-me-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6806832373795708354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6806832373795708354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/dave-barnes-god-gave-me-you.html' title='Dave Barnes - God Gave Me You'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/5hQK6GIrpYU/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4690240416858354716</id><published>2011-08-23T20:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T20:55:05.937-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Man. I Needed That.</title><content type='html'>This morning on the way to work I caught the tail end of someone on the radio (I listen to WMHK which is a Christian radio station) talking about affirmation and why it is so important in relationships with children as well as your spouse. I stink at this- to put it lightly. I am GREAT at praising my "kids" (my students). Heck, I even praise MilShelb on a constant basis. Jake? Hah. Nah. Hardly ever.&lt;br /&gt;It made me so sad to realize this. When I got bored with that station and happened to switch over to a country station and they were playing Keith Urban's &lt;i&gt;Without You&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Call it whatever you want, but I'd call it divine intervention. I feel like God was trying to remind me that Jake needs for me to praise him. I need to remember to do that. I need to make an effort to thank him. I need to stop taking out the frustrations of my job, friend/family life and remember a few things.:&lt;br /&gt;1. Jake is my husband. I promised him over 2 years ago that I would prize him above all others. I need to do that.&lt;br /&gt;2. Jake is one of the most generous people I know. He gives and gives and gives. He should be thanked.&lt;br /&gt;3. Jake has given up certain dreams for me. That is hard to do. That is so extremely unselfish.&lt;br /&gt;4. Jake is proud of me. He is proud of me because he knows how hard I have worked to get where I am professionally. I am proud of him, too. He needs to hear it.&lt;br /&gt;5. Everything that I have at this current time... the most important things to me... I have because of him. Because he stopped at nothing to get me what I wanted and what he felt like I deserved. I have an awesome house (if I do say so myself) because my husband knows how to handle money and helped me work it out. I have 2 AWESOME dogters that Jake gave in and got for us... and he fell in love with them, too. I have an awesome home environment because we are happy together. (Please, don't mistake this for me saying we are always happy, sappy, mushy... because that is not true. But, we're happy together and we work out the rest. lol)&lt;br /&gt;6. Jake loves me. He loves me for exactly who I am. That is hard to do. I know that because I am me and there are things about me that are hard to love. But, he does. He does with all of his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is not that Jake fussed about me not praising him... because that is not true. He didn't say a thing. He wouldn't. That's not the kind of man he is. The point is that I heard this on the radio and it touched my heart and I knew that it was something I need to work on. I plan to do that starting today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4690240416858354716?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4690240416858354716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/man-i-needed-that.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4690240416858354716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4690240416858354716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/man-i-needed-that.html' title='Man. I Needed That.'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8632108076355168316</id><published>2011-08-12T19:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T19:34:38.290-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Funny How Things Change</title><content type='html'>It's so funny how things change... and how things don't change. It's obviously not "haha funny" but just funny "strange".&lt;br /&gt;Some days I think, "man, this is the LIFE."&lt;br /&gt;Other days I think, "what in the word is wrong with people?!"&lt;br /&gt;Most days, though, I'm blessed enough to think, "man, this is the LIFE!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8632108076355168316?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8632108076355168316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-funny-how-things-change.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8632108076355168316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8632108076355168316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-funny-how-things-change.html' title='It&apos;s Funny How Things Change'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-2781482310097403987</id><published>2011-08-05T19:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T19:41:13.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It Is not Often</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;"You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom.&amp;nbsp; What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving. The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else.&amp;nbsp; When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation.&amp;nbsp; You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it."&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ~~~~~ Dr. Adrian Rogers, 1931 - 2005 ~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;It is not often that I talk about politics (or being politically correct), on here or elsewhere... and, truth be told, I'm not a very politically savvy person, but I do have my own (maybe unfounded) opinions and I found this quote tonight from a past post I did on MySpace 500 million years ago (I don't have Myspace anymore really) and thought I'd put it on here.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;The honest truth is that I feel that people have long forgotten the value of hard work and the pride that comes from doing something your durn self. There's something to be said for a person who sets goals, works hard, and achieves what they set out for and them some. Maybe it's not easy. Maybe it takes a while. So what? Big whoop. When it's all said and done you got what you wanted and you did it yourself. I LOVE that feeling!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-2781482310097403987?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2781482310097403987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/it-is-not-often.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2781482310097403987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2781482310097403987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/it-is-not-often.html' title='It Is not Often'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-5101745287753164864</id><published>2011-07-21T13:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T13:08:03.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Cute Chair</title><content type='html'>Where'd it come from, you ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it came from Goodwill and it looked like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5vI4miOq-Dk/Tiha6MpJLvI/AAAAAAAAB6w/lXNd5NXF1-s/s1600/DSCN3909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5vI4miOq-Dk/Tiha6MpJLvI/AAAAAAAAB6w/lXNd5NXF1-s/s320/DSCN3909.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A-wZGSBTU1k/TihbBtYOALI/AAAAAAAAB60/ToXhnb-yIL0/s1600/DSCN3910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A-wZGSBTU1k/TihbBtYOALI/AAAAAAAAB60/ToXhnb-yIL0/s320/DSCN3910.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dTBlWJ3QiB4/TihbIltuibI/AAAAAAAAB64/vuiBuyvOir0/s1600/DSCN3911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dTBlWJ3QiB4/TihbIltuibI/AAAAAAAAB64/vuiBuyvOir0/s320/DSCN3911.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Then, I spray painted the base to look like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eDGuIjcNsFA/TihbdKuwBRI/AAAAAAAAB68/a4rabmwDKuI/s1600/DSCN3913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eDGuIjcNsFA/TihbdKuwBRI/AAAAAAAAB68/a4rabmwDKuI/s320/DSCN3913.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;With Shelby's help, of course! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M4p2lIrN5TE/TihblLcDXrI/AAAAAAAAB7A/IfMut5PP5Bw/s1600/DSCN3912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M4p2lIrN5TE/TihblLcDXrI/AAAAAAAAB7A/IfMut5PP5Bw/s320/DSCN3912.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Then, I covered the seat and back of the chair:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--s7qlkuq_qo/TihbscqymGI/AAAAAAAAB7E/fjqDI3d8FvI/s1600/DSCN3914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--s7qlkuq_qo/TihbscqymGI/AAAAAAAAB7E/fjqDI3d8FvI/s320/DSCN3914.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Then, I put it all together:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xso9XxnkQw0/Tihb6xfWIBI/AAAAAAAAB7M/Y75uP05Q32s/s1600/DSCN3923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xso9XxnkQw0/Tihb6xfWIBI/AAAAAAAAB7M/Y75uP05Q32s/s320/DSCN3923.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0VjLjdNY2I/TihcCQAsshI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/jdg2LhRt-J8/s1600/DSCN3924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0VjLjdNY2I/TihcCQAsshI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/jdg2LhRt-J8/s320/DSCN3924.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Close-up of the fabric:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SL1EMOKbVco/Tihbz6iYbwI/AAAAAAAAB7I/NEtX2MSBzmg/s1600/DSCN3915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SL1EMOKbVco/Tihbz6iYbwI/AAAAAAAAB7I/NEtX2MSBzmg/s320/DSCN3915.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Did I mention that this chair cost me ONLY about $6?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The chair was $3 from Goodwill, the fabric was a major deal for only $2, and the spray paint was left over from other projects, but I am estimating I used only about $1 of it. I am so excited to put this in my classroom!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I just need to add some slidy things on the bottom so I don't scratch up the floor. Yay!!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-5101745287753164864?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5101745287753164864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/super-cute-chair.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5101745287753164864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5101745287753164864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/super-cute-chair.html' title='Super Cute Chair'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5vI4miOq-Dk/Tiha6MpJLvI/AAAAAAAAB6w/lXNd5NXF1-s/s72-c/DSCN3909.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1666851345542771759</id><published>2011-07-18T09:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T09:21:00.688-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If Someone Had Told Me</title><content type='html'>I'd marry that long haired, ugly shoe wearin' kid I met randomly... I'd have laughed in their faces.&lt;br /&gt;If they'd told me I'd fall madly in love with him the first time I laid eyes on him... I promise I would have choked on my drink.&lt;br /&gt;If they'd said that he would be my best friend, stick with me through thick and thin I'd have thought they were crazy.&lt;br /&gt;That kid didn't have a care in the world.&lt;br /&gt;But, they would have been right.&lt;br /&gt;My world, as I knew it, changed forever the night I met Jake.&lt;br /&gt;(And I'm betting his did, too.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone told me years ago that another person could make me feel like I am floating on cloud nine- I really could have thought, "yeah, right." My little miss independent self would have never&amp;nbsp;thought&amp;nbsp;they would be right.&lt;br /&gt;If someone told me years ago that I would build my entire world around another person I would have told them no.&lt;br /&gt;But, I do. Every single day.&lt;br /&gt;If someone told me years ago that I would still be thrilled to see Jake every night when he gets home from work I would have&amp;nbsp;told&amp;nbsp;them I doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;But I am. Every single day.&lt;br /&gt;If someone told me years ago that the same person who makes me the happiest I've ever been can also make me the maddest I've ever been... ok, I might would have believed it. lol&lt;br /&gt;If someone told me years ago that the long haired, ugly shoe wearin' kid would be my husband, my best friend, my entire world... I would have never believed them.&lt;br /&gt;But, really, he has always been a dream come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say some people are meant to be together. We are truly meant for each other. He is not my other half... he is my WHOLE heart. He is the smile on my face. He is the twinkle in my eye. He is the every beat of my heart. I love him more than I ever thought I could... and every single day I love him more than the day before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Anniversary, Jake! Here's to another wonderful year of wedded bliss. ;)&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad I found you- the person who is happy to share a seat on the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lfbzi_ZEpPQ/S7qGfdDZtKI/AAAAAAAAARQ/-j0IIpTb6k4/s1600/DSC_1571ed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lfbzi_ZEpPQ/S7qGfdDZtKI/AAAAAAAAARQ/-j0IIpTb6k4/s320/DSC_1571ed.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1666851345542771759?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1666851345542771759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/if-someone-had-told-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1666851345542771759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1666851345542771759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/if-someone-had-told-me.html' title='If Someone Had Told Me'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lfbzi_ZEpPQ/S7qGfdDZtKI/AAAAAAAAARQ/-j0IIpTb6k4/s72-c/DSC_1571ed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-9032029798251932827</id><published>2011-07-13T19:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T19:13:49.014-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Heart</title><content type='html'>My heart is grateful today... and many days. I get up in a house. I eat food I purchased with our own money from our own fridge. I drive a nice car to and from where ever it is life is taking me that day. I share our home with two wonderful doxies that stole my heart even before I met them. I am a grateful person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I wrote a few times about being blessed to have a husband who supports my dreams. I am still so grateful for this. He is an amazing man. He puts me first time and time again. I am so grateful for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Jake. Thank you for always believing in me and for allowing me to follow my dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-9032029798251932827?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/9032029798251932827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-heart.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/9032029798251932827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/9032029798251932827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-heart.html' title='My Heart'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8914303077550472727</id><published>2011-07-04T21:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T21:19:24.572-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Now and Then I Go Back...</title><content type='html'>Every now and then I go back in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I remember when times were tough. So so tough.&lt;br /&gt;Just a little over one year ago we had only begun the process of getting our lives on track and really seeing that we were headed in the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;It is so crazy to me how one year can really change your life.&lt;br /&gt;For one whole year (and really a little more than that) we were without jobs.&lt;br /&gt;We were struggling.&lt;br /&gt;We were hardly getting by.&lt;br /&gt;But, we did it.&lt;br /&gt;Can I just say that I am so proud of us?&lt;br /&gt;Because I am.&lt;br /&gt;For one whole (school) year I taught in a school where I learned more in that time span than I ever learned in college.&lt;br /&gt;I met people who gave me a chance.&lt;br /&gt;They gave me the chance to live my dream.&lt;br /&gt;In that year we also bought our first home.&lt;br /&gt;Bought a house... and we're making it our home.&lt;br /&gt;It helps me to go back and remember where we've come from.&lt;br /&gt;Because it makes me forever grateful for where we are.&lt;br /&gt;For who we are.&lt;br /&gt;For how we got there.&lt;br /&gt;I am so unbelievably proud of us.&lt;br /&gt;Of me.&lt;br /&gt;Of Jake.&lt;br /&gt;Of what we have accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;And I am thrilled to see where we are headed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8914303077550472727?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8914303077550472727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/every-now-and-then-i-go-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8914303077550472727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8914303077550472727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/07/every-now-and-then-i-go-back.html' title='Every Now and Then I Go Back...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1556876644704445852</id><published>2011-06-30T19:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T19:30:55.241-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful for...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zzpCA-DrqVo/S7aaJ5shd6I/AAAAAAAAAOw/yO7bEL_GjIQ/s1600/summer+2009+jake+and+girls+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zzpCA-DrqVo/S7aaJ5shd6I/AAAAAAAAAOw/yO7bEL_GjIQ/s320/summer+2009+jake+and+girls+3.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I am thankful for many things in life. Mostly, I am thankful for the people who surround me every day. they are awesome. They bless my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1556876644704445852?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1556876644704445852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/thankful-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1556876644704445852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1556876644704445852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/thankful-for.html' title='Thankful for...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zzpCA-DrqVo/S7aaJ5shd6I/AAAAAAAAAOw/yO7bEL_GjIQ/s72-c/summer+2009+jake+and+girls+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-220731385633804809</id><published>2011-06-23T22:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T22:03:46.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Vintage Thingies Thursday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I LOVE Suzanne's &lt;a href="http://coloradolady.blogspot.com/search/label/Vintage%20Thingies%20Thursdays"&gt;Vintage Thingies Thursday&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and have always wanted to link up to it... however, I don't have anything vintage. That is, until my Mom bought me this AWESOME vintage table cloth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zd6CdeiGs9Q/TgPv-q6bfeI/AAAAAAAAB3k/lX5NUeSV8ZM/s1600/DSCN3804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zd6CdeiGs9Q/TgPv-q6bfeI/AAAAAAAAB3k/lX5NUeSV8ZM/s320/DSCN3804.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I have always admired these at flea markets, but honestly just can't afford them. Well, my Mom bought me a few for our new house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;There's another view:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c4ugexFenEk/TgPwbz0_JUI/AAAAAAAAB3o/wcWNTPoQ3gI/s1600/DSCN3800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c4ugexFenEk/TgPwbz0_JUI/AAAAAAAAB3o/wcWNTPoQ3gI/s320/DSCN3800.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-220731385633804809?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/220731385633804809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/vintage-thingies-thursday.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/220731385633804809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/220731385633804809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/vintage-thingies-thursday.html' title='Vintage Thingies Thursday'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zd6CdeiGs9Q/TgPv-q6bfeI/AAAAAAAAB3k/lX5NUeSV8ZM/s72-c/DSCN3804.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8197521807048342887</id><published>2011-06-18T07:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T07:40:15.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Me Tell You about The Man Who Raised Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Now, for most people, the man who raised you is your Dad. And, this man is my Dad in almost every sense of the word... except the basic part. You see, this is my Dad who married my Mom after my real dad was killed in a car accident. This is my Dad who loved me as his own, wanted the best for me, and stepped up to the plate.&lt;br /&gt;His name is Michael (and that's what I call him). He's a hard-worker and truly taught me the importance of hard work. He is generous and caring. He always does what he thinks is right. He loves his kids and my Mom more than anything on this earth.&lt;br /&gt;To MilShelb, he is Gpa. They LOVE him! They get all wiggly and excited when he comes in the house. Milly loves to play ball with him and Shelby just loves to cuddle up in his lap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to Michael, thank you for all you do for me. You are a good man and I am blessed that you are my Dad. Happy Father's Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qmdUko_A-W8/TAr8GtOMS9I/AAAAAAAAAzw/CK2O5fo7Dww/s1600/DSC_1274eda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qmdUko_A-W8/TAr8GtOMS9I/AAAAAAAAAzw/CK2O5fo7Dww/s320/DSC_1274eda.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;My Dad is the one on the right. My father-in-law is the one on the left.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Now, I can't very well put up a picture with my father-in-law in it without saying "Happy Father's day, Tim!"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8197521807048342887?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8197521807048342887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/let-me-tell-you-about-man-who-raised-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8197521807048342887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8197521807048342887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/06/let-me-tell-you-about-man-who-raised-me.html' title='Let Me Tell You about The Man Who Raised Me'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qmdUko_A-W8/TAr8GtOMS9I/AAAAAAAAAzw/CK2O5fo7Dww/s72-c/DSC_1274eda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-899831848556163015</id><published>2011-05-28T21:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T21:07:01.238-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Me Tell Ya 'Bout My Best Friend...</title><content type='html'>My best friend is my husband- cliche, I know. However, I truly believe that a best friend is a person with whom you can say&amp;nbsp;anything&amp;nbsp;and everything, but at the same time know when it's best to keep your mouth shut. A best friend is someone who knows you for exactly who you are. They accept you. They love you. They love the exact person you are. They can overlook your irritating traits and see past the differences to the heart of you.&lt;br /&gt;You see, my husband is a good man. He knows me. He loves me. He appreciates me. I never feel like second best and I never feel like I don't add up. He believes in me. He wants what is best for me and does his best to see that I have that- even when it means giving up his wants and putting his dreams aside. He is truly a gentleman. Every day I am amazed by him... and even more amazed that he is so humble.&lt;br /&gt;He works hard. He puts us first. He is awesome. You know what, he's more than that though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a man of few words. He cares about his family. He loves his Mama. His favorite color is yellow. He loves pizza and ice cream almost as much as I do. He thinks Milly and Shelby hung the moon. He does not come off as a very outgoing person, but really he's a goofy guy. He is hard to understand and impossible to forget. He values people who understand that value of hard work. He cannot stand laziness. He loves comedies. He does not at all care for chick flicks. He likes to play video games every now and then. He is obsessed with football. He does not drink. He does not smoke. He does not lie, cheat, or steal. He is an honest man. He is a generous man. He'd gladly give you the shirt off his back and never think twice about it. He is someone I admire and respect. He makes me want to be a better person.&lt;br /&gt;He is my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eUJ7f5AiSGU/SzrNEcftm1I/AAAAAAAAAD8/jPcPPOw5XF8/s1600/jakecake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eUJ7f5AiSGU/SzrNEcftm1I/AAAAAAAAAD8/jPcPPOw5XF8/s320/jakecake.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-899831848556163015?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/899831848556163015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/let-me-tell-ya-bout-my-best-friend.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/899831848556163015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/899831848556163015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/let-me-tell-ya-bout-my-best-friend.html' title='Let Me Tell Ya &apos;Bout My Best Friend...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eUJ7f5AiSGU/SzrNEcftm1I/AAAAAAAAAD8/jPcPPOw5XF8/s72-c/jakecake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3288053456204557165</id><published>2011-05-17T18:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T18:36:46.774-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Many People Know It</title><content type='html'>And maybe it's because I don't show it the way I should...&lt;br /&gt;But, due to a few comments made (innocently) recently I just have to get this off my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love, respect, and admire my husband. I'll have his back until the day I die. I stand behind him, walk beside him, and never try to lead him in any way he does not want to go. He is the head of our household and the leader of our family. He makes the important decisions and I respect his choices. Thankfully, he asks my opinion, but I never expect him to, because, as I said, he leads this household.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake and I do not appear to have the typical relationship and I think that causes us to be misunderstood. The thing is, many people judge what they do not understand. I don't really think we're all that weird, but apparently some people do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think a lot of people do not realize the amount of respect I have for him and the fact that I not only realize that he leads our household, but encourage him to do so. I think people know me as being independent, stubborn, and strong willed... and they expect that that personality carried over into all aspects of my life- but it doesn't. While I don't feel the need to explain the dynamics of my relationship with my husband, I do feel the need to set the record straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love him. I respect him. He loves me. He respects me. We are partners in this life. Our life works just fine for us. You should not judge what you don't understand. You should just stay out of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3288053456204557165?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3288053456204557165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/not-many-people-know-it.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3288053456204557165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3288053456204557165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/not-many-people-know-it.html' title='Not Many People Know It'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-243714513645147808</id><published>2011-05-17T18:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T18:29:21.742-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love This Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lfbzi_ZEpPQ/S7qGfdDZtKI/AAAAAAAAARQ/-j0IIpTb6k4/s1600/DSC_1571ed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lfbzi_ZEpPQ/S7qGfdDZtKI/AAAAAAAAARQ/-j0IIpTb6k4/s320/DSC_1571ed.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Randy Travis: If I Didn't Have You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Well I lost my heart on the day we met&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;But I gained a lot that I don't regret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Then I hung around till you said I do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;I knew I wouldn't have nothin' if I didn't have you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Well it changed my thinking when you changed your name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;And neither one of us will ever be the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;And I swear I'm never gonna be untrue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Cause I wouldn't have nothin' if I didn't have you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;If I didn't have you I'd long ago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Been left in the dark out in the cold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Blowing around from town to town&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Like a feather in the wind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;If I didn't have you I know I'd be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Floundering around like a ship at sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Lost in the rain of a hurricane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;And that's where I'd have been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;But I didn't get lost cause I saw your light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Shining like a beacon on a cold dark night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Then sun came up and the skies turned blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;No I wouldn't have nothing if I didn't have you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Well I count my blessings every night I pray&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;That the Lord lets me keep you just one more day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;And every day he does cause God knows too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;That I wouldn't have nothing if I didn't have you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;If I didn't have you I'd long ago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Been left in the dark out in the cold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Blowing around from town to town&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Like a feather in the wind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;If I didn't have you I know I'd be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Floundering around like a ship at sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Lost in the rain of a hurricane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;And that's where I'd have been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;But I didn't get lost cause I saw your light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Shining like a beacon on a cold dark night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Then sun came up and the skies turned blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;No I wouldn't have nothing if I didn't have you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Well I've already said it but I swear it's true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;I know I wouldn't have nothing if I didn't have you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Jake, I&amp;nbsp;wouldn't&amp;nbsp;have "nothin'" if I didn't have you. You are my heart, my life, my reason for living. I love you more than life itself.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-243714513645147808?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/243714513645147808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/love-this-song.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/243714513645147808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/243714513645147808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/love-this-song.html' title='Love This Song'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lfbzi_ZEpPQ/S7qGfdDZtKI/AAAAAAAAARQ/-j0IIpTb6k4/s72-c/DSC_1571ed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4195853887587963470</id><published>2011-05-08T08:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T08:12:37.739-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Sh3sCOAxGo/S3a33qgAz7I/AAAAAAAAAF8/f7vWqL9Kj9A/s1600/christmas+2009+026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Sh3sCOAxGo/S3a33qgAz7I/AAAAAAAAAF8/f7vWqL9Kj9A/s320/christmas+2009+026.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I have been blessed to have an awesome Mom and Grandmother. Happy Mother's Day, Mom and Grandmama! Love you so much!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4195853887587963470?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4195853887587963470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/happy-mothers-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4195853887587963470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4195853887587963470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day!!'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Sh3sCOAxGo/S3a33qgAz7I/AAAAAAAAAF8/f7vWqL9Kj9A/s72-c/christmas+2009+026.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1892150638529843962</id><published>2011-05-07T08:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T08:29:13.589-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Isn't It Funny What People Pray For?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "&gt;I pray a lot. I pray many times throughout the day. Sometimes I pray for other people. Sometimes I pray for myself. Sometimes I pray for my family. Sometimes I just pray that my prayers will be answered. BUT, the truth is, all prayers are answered, just not always the way you in-vision. However, it's not my vision of the future that matters. It is God's knowledge of the path that I am on and where He wants me to go. I'll admit that sometimes I pray for things that I know are selfish and are only for the betterment of my life. I also know that God won't give me anything that I cannot handle and He is the One who knows me best. He has given me people in my life who will be there for me and ones whom I need to be there for. He has given me tough things to go through that make me question everything and things to rejoice in to remind me that He has a plan for me and that I will always be taken care of. Blessings come in strange forms. I heard this song on the radio yesterday that reminded me that God has a plan for all of us and we just need to hold tight and work hard and He will always, ALWAYS provide a way. It's like my district's superintendent said at a meeting the other day, "I know if He takes care of the sparrow..." and, boy, do I know that He will take care of me. There are some things going on that I cannot yet share on here due to other things going on (and, let's be honest, it's tough for me to keep my mouth shut because I am such an open book), but let's just say that things are working out in strange ways and I cannot wait to see what God has in store for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1CSVqHcdhXQ?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1892150638529843962?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1892150638529843962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/isnt-it-funny-what-people-pray-for.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1892150638529843962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1892150638529843962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/isnt-it-funny-what-people-pray-for.html' title='Isn&apos;t It Funny What People Pray For?'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/1CSVqHcdhXQ/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-5226966413985106298</id><published>2011-05-06T19:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T19:10:02.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tenth Avenue North - You Are More</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/IwtcwQwgdsA?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-5226966413985106298?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5226966413985106298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/tenth-avenue-north-you-are-more.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5226966413985106298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5226966413985106298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/tenth-avenue-north-you-are-more.html' title='Tenth Avenue North - You Are More'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/IwtcwQwgdsA/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-5890265984705141401</id><published>2011-04-29T19:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T19:39:51.220-04:00</updated><title type='text'>God is Good</title><content type='html'>God is Good. He is so so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact of the matter is that God takes care of those who put their trust in Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I do trust in my Lord.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-5890265984705141401?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5890265984705141401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/god-is-good.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5890265984705141401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5890265984705141401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/god-is-good.html' title='God is Good'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8361078297462736635</id><published>2011-04-24T07:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T07:50:25.596-04:00</updated><title type='text'>MANDISA - "He Is With You"</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/M6sZTywgcnk?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is Risen! He is Living! He is Loving! He is with you (and me)! How Great is Our God?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Easter!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8361078297462736635?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8361078297462736635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/mandisa-he-is-with-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8361078297462736635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8361078297462736635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/mandisa-he-is-with-you.html' title='MANDISA - &quot;He Is With You&quot;'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/M6sZTywgcnk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-5886649473710809944</id><published>2011-04-23T18:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T18:53:24.652-04:00</updated><title type='text'>God is Working...</title><content type='html'>God is working in my life. Well, He always is, really. But, there are times when I can just feel it. I have been dealing with some stuff lately and (to my great surprise) have&amp;nbsp;handled&amp;nbsp;it rather nicely. I have not let others get me down. I have not let things that are out of my control make me sad or make me feel inferior. As Eleanor Roosevelt once said, No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." I won't let people make me feel like I am not good enough anymore. Because, the honest to goodness truth is, I AM GOOD ENOUGH. Actually, I'm better than good enough. I'm a pretty darn fabulous person. ;) I work hard, I pray hard, and I play hard. I have an awesome (and I do mean AWESOME) family and some pretty fantastic friends. My husband is amazing. He stands by me and really just keeps me going. I'm still working through these things going on, but not in a "the world is out to get me and nothing ever works the way I want it to" attitude, but in a "I've got a smile on my face and you can't stop me... I even dare you to try" attitude.&lt;br /&gt;God is with me. He sees the big picture. He hears my prayers. He is almighty and all-knowing. He is the Alpha and the Omega... and He will get me through this and on to better things. I am sure of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-5886649473710809944?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5886649473710809944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/god-is-working.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5886649473710809944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5886649473710809944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/god-is-working.html' title='God is Working...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-5173208036181304683</id><published>2011-04-18T19:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T19:57:32.468-04:00</updated><title type='text'>God Answers Prayers</title><content type='html'>There are some things going on in my life right now that I have chosen not to make public (yet)... these things weigh heavily on my heart and soul... but I am not alone. I had a strange experience the other day and I have not shared it with anyone... yet... but I am about to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, last week I was having a tiny pity party for myself and thinking "why me?" and (let me go a little farther back to explain that I listen to contemporary Christian on the radio. It really helps to keep my attitude in check- so, anyhow, as I was saying) the song &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3TPq8ZSvTk"&gt;Stronger by Mandisa&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;came on the radio at that exact moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in that same car ride (remember, I commute nearly an hour each way to work) I was thinking about maybe decisions I have made in the past are what the problem is, etc and the song &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cgi-G-dHYkY"&gt;You Are More by Tenth Avenue North&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;came on the radio. I cannot tell you how strange it was, but yet how much I truly felt like God was talking to me through those songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm not one of those people who thinks I hear God's voice or anything like that (and there's nothing wrong if you do... who am I to decide what really happens with other people?) but I do feel that He uses people in my life and events to guide my decisions... and He was answering me through the radio that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many changes going on right now. Some of them are wonderful and some of them have me terrified, but I know without a doubt that God has a plan for me. He knows what I need and He will make a way for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, again, I have reached a time in my life where I am on my knees and praying "Dear Lord, Give me ground or give me wings."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;("When you have come to the edge of all of the light that you know and are about to drop off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: there will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly." &amp;nbsp;~Patrick Overton)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-5173208036181304683?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5173208036181304683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/god-answers-prayers.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5173208036181304683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5173208036181304683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/04/god-answers-prayers.html' title='God Answers Prayers'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4387321505129730200</id><published>2011-03-19T20:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T20:21:17.730-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a Pretty Honest Person</title><content type='html'>I won't lie... I'm pretty honest most of the time. I'll tell people anything really. I'm pretty much an open book and I don't have too many secrets. Most of the time I am happy and enthusiastic. There are days, however, when the stress of my life gets to be too much. &lt;i&gt;Stress?&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;You may ask. What kind of stress could you possibly have? You know, I've found the saying is true, "the grass is never greener on the other side." Really- there's just different grass. This time last year I was long-term subbing, hardly getting by, and stressing like CRAZY over finding a full-time job. I was living on no money and wondering where my next meal was coming from and how we'd ever be able to pay all of our bills... but, God answered my prayers and I found a job. Now, my days are filled with other stresses- deadlines and&amp;nbsp;more&amp;nbsp;deadlines, long days, busy night, tons of kids, teacher drama, and the toll of driving nearly an hour each way for work. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful beyond belief for my job. I do tend to have complaints sometimes but I know in my heart I am thankful for even the things I complain about because it means there is a roof over our heads and food on our table and gas in our cars... and a little left over to buy a new shirt every now and then. The husband has a job and all is well with the world. Yeah, right. Budget cuts. Oh budget cuts. As if my world isn't crazy enough. I don't really think I will lose my job, but that is always a possibility. It's really a possibility for anyone these days. As the year is winding down and the stress continues to build, I find myself wondering if I'll still be employed next year. No one has given me a reason to think I wouldn't, but I think that because I worked so hard to get this job I am terrified I will lose it. I have worked so hard this year and I would hate to have to walk away... to be forced to leave. You know what I would miss the most? The one thing I thought I'd hate... the hugs. Those kids are lovers. They just love to hug you and smile their big smiles and they want to know they're loved and welcome. And they are. Strange, how your life can be so drastically changed in less than a year by children. They've really made me a better person. They truly have. So, I'll take the stress and the fear of the unknown (because, that's really all it is ) and I'll hug my babies and savor the moments. The grass may not be greener, but the sun is brighter and "my kids" have changed me for the better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4387321505129730200?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4387321505129730200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/im-pretty-honest-person.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4387321505129730200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4387321505129730200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/im-pretty-honest-person.html' title='I&apos;m a Pretty Honest Person'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-2112501229873324447</id><published>2011-03-08T19:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T19:09:26.258-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Know Who said It... but it's so true.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. The same goes for true love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;I've learned that it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that you can keep going long after you can't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that either you control your attitude or&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="klink"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-left-color: initial !important; border-right-color: initial !important; border-top-color: initial !important; float: none; font-size: inherit !important; font-weight: inherit !important;"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="klink"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-left-color: initial !important; border-right-color: initial !important; border-top-color: initial !important; float: none; font-size: inherit !important; font-weight: inherit !important;"&gt;controls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that money is a lousy way of keeping score.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're down, will be the ones to help you get back up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that just because someone doesn't&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="klink"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-color: initial; border-left-color: initial !important; border-right-color: initial !important; border-top-color: initial !important; float: none; font-size: inherit !important; font-weight: inherit !important;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-converted-space"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="klink"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-color: initial; border-left-color: initial !important; border-right-color: initial !important; border-top-color: initial !important; float: none; font-size: inherit !important; font-weight: inherit !important;"&gt;you&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;the way you want them to doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;I've learned that maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you've had and what you've learned from&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;them, and less to do with how many years you have lived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn't stop for your grief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do love each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that you shouldn't be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that two people can look at the same thing and see something totally different.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't even know you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you you will find the strength to help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;I've learned that the people you care about most in life are sometimes taken from you too soon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-2112501229873324447?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2112501229873324447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/dont-know-who-said-it-but-its-so-true.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2112501229873324447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2112501229873324447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/03/dont-know-who-said-it-but-its-so-true.html' title='Don&apos;t Know Who said It... but it&apos;s so true.'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3590122387826162947</id><published>2011-02-20T18:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T18:41:54.178-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Relay For Life</title><content type='html'>I am participating in Relay for Life. It is something that has always been near and dear to my heart... mostly because I truly believe that there will be a CURE one day VERY soon. I just know it. So, if raising money and spending a night out on a high school track brings us closer to that goal, I'll do it with a smile on my face!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, here's &lt;a href="http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFLFY11SA?px=18324223&amp;amp;pg=personal&amp;amp;fr_id=33375"&gt;my personal donation page&lt;/a&gt; in case anyone feels so inclined!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="297" src="http://www.relayforlifewb.org/images/New%20Relay%20Logo%202002-03.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3590122387826162947?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3590122387826162947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/relay-for-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3590122387826162947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3590122387826162947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/relay-for-life.html' title='Relay For Life'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8116037835685471588</id><published>2011-02-14T04:13:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T04:13:00.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;Valentine's Day... My husband swears it's a holiday invented by Hallmark to make money, but whatever. I saw this commercial the other day (don't remember the company) but it said that it's not a day to say I love you, but a day to say I love us. And, I do. "I love us, Jake." I love everything about us. I love that we are laid back (well, you are and I try to be). I love that we laugh at the same things and that when we go places we get annoyed by the same things. I love that we can complete each other's sentences and we are at times the "same person". I love that we can laugh at ourselves. I love that we have the same last name and that we share a home and a family. I love that we are a "we", an "us". I love that we never worry about what each other will think... because we normally already know. I love that we joke about anything and everything. I love that our home is filled with smiles and laughs and songs and dances and jokes. I love that we can spend all day being serious at work and come home and be total clowns. I love that we want the same things and that when we don't we are both willing to compromise. I love that our "us" makes me happy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;I would not be who I am today without you, Jake... without us. I am blessed to share my life with you. I am blessed to be your wife.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;Happy Valentine's Day, Jake!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tYHyi_3xXB0/SzrNEgIviMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/MekPBRUcq1s/s1600/lookingout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tYHyi_3xXB0/SzrNEgIviMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/MekPBRUcq1s/s320/lookingout.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;Happy Valentine's Day to the man who shares my future...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8116037835685471588?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8116037835685471588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/valentines-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8116037835685471588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8116037835685471588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tYHyi_3xXB0/SzrNEgIviMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/MekPBRUcq1s/s72-c/lookingout.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1699111131570277686</id><published>2011-02-04T20:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T20:31:31.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jury Duty</title><content type='html'>Yuck. I am supposed to have jury duty next week and I really don't want to go. It's not that I mind jury duty- to be honest, I've never even had jury duty... but, I sent in a request to move the jury duty to the summer and it was denied. So, since I don't actually know if I have jury duty or not officially until the night before I now have to plan for three different things... 1. I have to plan for if I am in fact at school and don't have jury duty. 2. I have to plan for if I am not at school and do have jury duty and they aren't able to get me a sub. 3. I have to plan for if I am not at school and have jury duty and they do get me a sub. Fun, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1699111131570277686?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1699111131570277686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/jury-duty.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1699111131570277686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1699111131570277686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/02/jury-duty.html' title='Jury Duty'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3754560211665997273</id><published>2011-01-25T20:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T20:24:37.555-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not About Me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Father break my heart for what breaks Yours&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Give me open hands and open doors&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and put Your Light in my eyes and let me see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;That my own little world is not about me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~Matthew West&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not about me. Not about me? Not about &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt;?! You've got to be kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, really. I'm sitting here at my computer and I have to say I'm embarrassed. I've acted all day as if "my own little world" is all about me. Yeah, well in my world it very well may be all about me... but in the real world, where my little world happens to reside, it is not all about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have gotten bent out of shape today over things that will not matter next week. (I'd say they won't matter tomorrow, but they will. They'll matter Thursday, too... but after that, not so much.) I've let situations get the best of me. I've let other people get the better of me. I've let my negative attitude win. How dare me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I will remember that it is not all about me. In fact, it's not even a little bit about me from 7:30-2:40. It's all about 16 other people who depend on me to keep it in check. I'll do that because they deserve it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3754560211665997273?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3754560211665997273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/not-about-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3754560211665997273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3754560211665997273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/not-about-me.html' title='Not About Me...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-2662575290129312319</id><published>2011-01-24T18:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T18:31:34.392-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ugh. Are You Serious?!</title><content type='html'>I was reading &lt;a href="http://momosmomma.blogspot.com/2011/01/it-has-been-fraught-day.html"&gt;Molly's Mom's post&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and was so frustrated! I cannot believe (no, really I can. sadly.) that a grown man would behave this way. It makes me angry. Like Molly's Mom, I do not normally condone the hitting (or punching) of animals...&amp;nbsp;especially&amp;nbsp;not animals that belong to someone else... but, I'll go ahead and warn you, if I'm ever in a park and you allow your large dog to come and bite one of my babies on the leg and then proceed to laugh at me when I am frantically trying to get your dog to leave mine alone, you'd best bet I'll punch your dog... and you. And then I'll call the cops... and my husband. lol I mean, the nerve of some people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't feel bad, Molly's Mom. I'd have done that same thing. In my opinion, YOU GO GIRL!! You go. Your job is to protect them and be their advocate... and you were just doing your job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-2662575290129312319?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2662575290129312319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/ugh-are-you-serious.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2662575290129312319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2662575290129312319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/ugh-are-you-serious.html' title='ugh. Are You Serious?!'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4810156531280282132</id><published>2011-01-15T19:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T19:45:27.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Been Reading</title><content type='html'>I started reading &lt;a href="http://www.jongordon.com/sharkandgoldfish.html"&gt;The Shark and The Goldfish&lt;/a&gt; tonight. It is a book assigned by our principal... and it's actually turning out to be a really good book. (Not that I did not think my principal could pick a good book, just that I normally turn my nose up at assigned reading. lol) Anyhow, I am all about positive thinking and so is this book. So far I am only on page 22, but it really sounds a lot like the way I think, which is cool. It talks about making the choice to be positive and&amp;nbsp;controlling&amp;nbsp;your reactions to situations. Now, I am not saying that this is how I always live my life, but it is certainly how I try to live my life. It also talked about how things happen a certain way for a reason and that it leads you to other situations and you have to choose how you react to these and make a choice and be positive. Anyhow, it got me to thinking about how different my life would be if everything worked out the way I wanted the first time... looking back on it, YIKES! I have talked about this topic before by talking about unanswered prayers. (I mean, they're not unanswered exactly, just put on hold or replaced with better things.) I am planning to work even harder to be positive about certain situations in my life. It doesn't mean I need to give up or find other situations to replace the current ones, it means I need to work harder. Oh, and I will!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another topic to discuss...&lt;br /&gt;You know what's crazy? God loves me more than the sun and the stars and He loves me all the time. He loves me. Me. A sinner. A complainer. A person out of so many people. Holy cow! How awesome is that? It amazes me that He could love me. I am oh so grateful for that. I am grateful beyond belief. Why? Because I need that love. I need that belief in me. I need HIM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I have Him. :) On my side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4810156531280282132?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4810156531280282132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/been-reading.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4810156531280282132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4810156531280282132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/been-reading.html' title='Been Reading'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6863644057582444583</id><published>2011-01-12T19:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T19:50:47.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;are not my thing. lol I don't mean to say that I do not think deeply,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I simply mean that my life is not so complex that it requires a great deal of deep thought.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Anyhow, all of that being said...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;People often ask me about my marriage. People think my marriage is weird... different.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well, it is. It is not your "typical" marriage, but I would challenge someone to tell me&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;what a "typical" marriage is. I've heard before that a marriage is as unique as the people in it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, how true that is. What works for one couple would never fly with another, and so on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;I know many people who spend every free moment with their spouse. I know others&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;who rarely see their spouses. I know people who secretly despise their spouses. I know others&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;who are obsessed. I know people who seem to fear their spouses and others who live to&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;serve their spouses. I am none of those people. The truth is, my husband is my best&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;friend. He makes me laugh. He keeps me grounded. He helps me to set and achieve goals.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He loves me. I love him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Do we share the same interests? Hardly. Do we enjoy going and doing the same things.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yeah right. Do we even like the same music? Hahahaha. We could hardly be more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;different in that regard. But, we make it work. We are very independent.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We are not each other's "other half"... but he is my whole heart. He is the one person I&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;would do absolutely anything for. We joke. We laugh. We smile. We sing. We dance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Yet, we're serious. We want the same things. We are headed in the same direction.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We love Milly and Shelby. We put them first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So, maybe if you know me you think we're strange... but, as I&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;said, I challenge you to show me a perfect couple. &amp;nbsp;I don't think such a thing exists.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TS5LKe9LCxI/AAAAAAAABxI/LnTwik7bKrA/s1600/DSCN1567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TS5LKe9LCxI/AAAAAAAABxI/LnTwik7bKrA/s320/DSCN1567.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6863644057582444583?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6863644057582444583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/deep-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6863644057582444583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6863644057582444583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/deep-thoughts.html' title='Deep Thoughts'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TS5LKe9LCxI/AAAAAAAABxI/LnTwik7bKrA/s72-c/DSCN1567.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4121465704203110694</id><published>2011-01-08T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T17:24:06.387-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What the Lord has done in me</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/i4H6Uv7BI7I?fs=1" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this song and thought I'd share it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4121465704203110694?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4121465704203110694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-lord-has-done-in-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4121465704203110694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4121465704203110694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-lord-has-done-in-me.html' title='What the Lord has done in me'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/i4H6Uv7BI7I/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1670462115579157027</id><published>2011-01-01T10:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T10:18:44.152-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;To say that I am excited about what this year may bring is an understatement. Last year was full of stress and fear... of sadness and worries. Not this year. Last year we were both unemployed. I was unemployed from May 2009 until June 2010. It was very difficult. My H was unemployed from December 2009 until September 2010. 2010 brought us many challenges. It brought us many times when we truly had to just sit tight and hold on. It was hard. It also brought us good things. We both (finally) found jobs. We gained family members and next year are expecting to gain another nephew. I am excited for the year to come because 2010 taught me that Jake and I can weather the storm. We have what it takes and we love each other enough to know that our lives are always better when we are together... no matter how rotten the situation may seem. 2011 will bring many things- a new nephew, possibly a new house, maybe even more opportunities to make differences and be good people. 2011 will also bring struggles, I'm sure of it. No year is without some sort of struggle. But, God gave me Jake for the ups and downs (I love that song!) and I am certain we can make it&amp;nbsp;through&amp;nbsp;anything.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Now, if I can just remember to write 2011 as the date, we'll all be ok. lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1670462115579157027?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1670462115579157027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-new-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1670462115579157027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1670462115579157027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-768458981366025922</id><published>2010-12-25T08:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T08:01:00.218-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas to the Man of My Dreams</title><content type='html'>Jake,&lt;br /&gt;It's been quite a year hasn't it? We've had so many changes... too many twists and turns to even count. This time last year neither of us had jobs, I had little hope, and yet, here we are. What an amazing year it's been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot being to express how blessed I feel to have you in my life. You are such an amazing man. You have kept me strong. You have kept my feet on the ground and kept me living in reality. You have kept me going... a tough job many days. You are my rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the night I met you. I thought to myself, "well, here goes nothing. What have you gotten yourself into now?" I was really unsure... and now I am really happy. I got myself into the best thing that has ever happened to me. Hands down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I want to thank you for the things you've done for me this year. Thank you for moving away from our home for me to take a job I wanted. Thank you for helping me move into my classroom. Thank you for supporting me through all of the ups and downs that have come our way this year. You know, there is a song about that and it says, "God gave me you for the ups and downs. God gave me you for the days of doubt." That's so true. God gave me you. I am so glad He did. Thank you for your positive attitude. thank you for reality checks. Thank you for being a MilShelb Dad and loving them as much as I do... maybe even more (if that's possible). Thank you for loving and caring about my family and friends. Thank you for always putting me and "us" first. Thank you for having priorities. Thank you for being someone that I love to come home to. Thank you for loving me... me... just as I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Jake. I've loved you from the first night I met you and I will love you forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas, Jake. I am looking forward to starting another New Year with you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-768458981366025922?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/768458981366025922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/merry-christmas-to-man-of-my-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/768458981366025922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/768458981366025922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/merry-christmas-to-man-of-my-dreams.html' title='Merry Christmas to the Man of My Dreams'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8502599798851707490</id><published>2010-12-24T08:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T08:11:00.275-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas MilShelb</title><content type='html'>MilShelb,&lt;br /&gt;You are my life. You keep me sane. You make me smile when my day was awful. You make me laugh when all I want to do is cry. You greet me at the door and say, "leave all that stuff out there. Come in and love us!" You keep my priorities straight.&lt;br /&gt;I never knew I could love someone as much as I love the two of you. I never knew I'd meet someone who could change my attitude so much just by being who they are. I never knew how much my heart could ache when someone else was sick, hurt... but it does when you are. I never knew what a difference you would make in my life. I am so glad we have you both.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for loving me. Thank you for always being excited to see me. Thank you for your cuddling. Thank you for your warning barks. Thank you for being so silly and fun.&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Milshelb. I love being a MilShelb Mom.&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas, my babies. Merry Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8502599798851707490?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8502599798851707490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/merry-christmas-milshelb.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8502599798851707490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8502599798851707490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/merry-christmas-milshelb.html' title='Merry Christmas MilShelb'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-9140374425301653623</id><published>2010-12-18T08:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-18T08:00:47.399-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Post</title><content type='html'>The 16th was my husband's birthday. He is so old. lol (Not really. He's exactly 12 days older than me... and I am young. lol) So, anyhow, I was planning to do a post for him on his birthday, but life got in the way. So, here's his birthday post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake,&lt;br /&gt;Holy cow! Another birthday. Another year I've known you and you've improved my life. How do you do it? Never cease to amaze me. You are awesome. Happy Birthday to you, a wonderful man that I am blessed to share my life with.&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Jake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/ShngDR74lAI/AAAAAAAAAAw/ew2kVPDg4qw/s1600/n1679626036_17670_2061561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/ShngDR74lAI/AAAAAAAAAAw/ew2kVPDg4qw/s320/n1679626036_17670_2061561.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/Sh8yNB6hQvI/AAAAAAAAABU/Cvz5HtxMuzg/s1600/football+and+christmas+031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/Sh8yNB6hQvI/AAAAAAAAABU/Cvz5HtxMuzg/s320/football+and+christmas+031.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SiL_GVM6HlI/AAAAAAAAABc/zoz8ELSzRfE/s1600/football+and+christmas+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SiL_GVM6HlI/AAAAAAAAABc/zoz8ELSzRfE/s320/football+and+christmas+005.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-9140374425301653623?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/9140374425301653623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/late-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/9140374425301653623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/9140374425301653623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/late-post.html' title='Late Post'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/ShngDR74lAI/AAAAAAAAAAw/ew2kVPDg4qw/s72-c/n1679626036_17670_2061561.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8628827262355004102</id><published>2010-12-06T17:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T17:51:57.649-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On My Soap Box</title><content type='html'>Allow me to vent a bit.&lt;div&gt;I am tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not feeling well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am worn out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am burnt out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired of people telling me how to do my job when they don't have a clue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired of people adding their 2 cents to things where I'd rather them just butt-out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am sick of people telling me their opinion. It is not welcomed or appreciated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired of being sick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am sick of being tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sleep 8 or more hours a night. I do not need more sleep. I need less stress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to spend my money on me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to buy my husband nice things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do not have enough money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do not believe there is ever such a thing as "enough" money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am counting down to Christmas break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am counting down to summer break (lol).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I mention I am tired?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want paper in the copier when I go there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to know about things ahead of time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want people to talk to me like their equal and not like an idiot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired of being treated like I just fell off the turnip truck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realize all of these&amp;nbsp;sentences&amp;nbsp;are about me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Too bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired of repeating myself 300,000 times a day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to change my name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired of tattling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now to change modes... and be more positive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for a roof over my head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for food to eat and clothes to wear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for my family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for my friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for my husband and the MilShelb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for my job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am&amp;nbsp;thankful&amp;nbsp;for my kids (students).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for people who help me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for people who guide me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for people who love me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful that people care.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for heat in my house in the winter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for cool air in my house in the summer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for Milly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for Shelby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for sweet doggy kisses and cuddles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful for people who know me and love me anyhow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8628827262355004102?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8628827262355004102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/on-my-soap-box.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8628827262355004102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8628827262355004102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/on-my-soap-box.html' title='On My Soap Box'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-7471800374351562864</id><published>2010-11-29T18:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T18:41:20.002-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's No Big Secret</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/h7M7cJ4DydQ?fs=1" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no big secret... I love my husband. I really really do. I am his biggest fan. I think he is amazing. He is generous, loving, funny, goofy, brilliant... all sort of good things. Maybe what you don't know is that I believe that God sent him to me. He and I were made for each other. God gave me him for the ups and downs. God gave me him for the days of doubt. God gave me a wonderful man to share my life with. I am blessed to be his wife.&lt;br /&gt;You know what's funny? People don't get us. We're not your typical lovie-dovie, mooshy-smooshy, kissy-huggy couple. That's not us. We're not attached at the hip. We don't feel the need to ask permission for things. We don't have to hang out constantly. We live our lives exactly as we want and it just works. It works perfectly for us. People think we're odd. They think it's strange... but it really doesn't bother either one of us because we know that we love each other. We know that our relationship is solid and strong. We trust each other. More than one person has said to me that we seem more like&amp;nbsp;roommates&amp;nbsp;than husband and wife. I see their point. It's true, I suppose, because we do not have the typical relationship. The thing is that people just do not understand. Someone else recently said that you just have to do what is best for your marriage and forget what others think. That's so true. I love Jake. I know that God sent him to me because I need him. I am independent and I love to do things on my own. I love to work things out alone and I hate having to check in with someone. I love a simple goodnight text if I'm not home yet and not a million minute phone call. I love being able to just look at Jake and know with all of my heart that that man loves me more than he loves himself. I don't need other people to approve of our relationship. God approves. I approve. Jake approves. As far as I'm concerned, that's all the matters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-7471800374351562864?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7471800374351562864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/its-no-big-secret.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7471800374351562864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7471800374351562864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/its-no-big-secret.html' title='It&apos;s No Big Secret'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/h7M7cJ4DydQ/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4049271418748956379</id><published>2010-11-28T16:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T16:50:51.111-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Amazing... or Is It?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;It's amazing what a little church can do for a person. I'll admit it- I have not been going to church like I should since I moved back to Columbia. However, I have gone for the last three (yes, three) Sundays in a row. How great it is to go to church and learn about God and praise Him and thank Him for the many blessings in my life. How great it is to know that God (the one,&amp;nbsp;true, awesome, wonderful God) loves me... me... a sinner.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I know that some people do not believe that God sends you places and they rely on the idea of coincidence. I don't believe in coincidence. God sends me places and puts people in my life for a reason. Nothing is a mistake in God's world. Everything is part of a bigger plan. Anyhow, the first Sunday, I'm tellin' ya, the preacher was preaching directly to me. And, do you know what that told me? That told me that God was saying, "See, Maggie, I told you that you needed to be here. I sent you here. So, hear this message, no matter how uncomfortable it may be." Anyhow, I try to be a giving and loving person. I try very hard. I give to others. But, you know what, I don't love enough. And, giving to others is not the same as loving them. God showed us that when you love someone you will sacrifice on their behalf. Those were the preacher's exact words, "when you love someone you will sacrifice on their behalf." What a smack in the face. I needed that. I thought to myself, "Yes, God, I hear you. I hear you loud and clear. I have been selfish. I will obey. I will sacrifice on their behalf."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;You see, I have been having a hard time lately. I have been struggling with some things... call them growing pains, I suppose. I keep waking up and remembering that I am an adult now. Yuck. And I am responsible for my actions and reactions. I am responsible for my family. I am responsible for my soul.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Yes. I hear You, God. I hear you and I am working on it. It's not an immediate thing... but I will get there. I will be strong enough to do the right thing... no matter what others think. I will live a life that is pleasing to You... or die trying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4049271418748956379?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4049271418748956379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/its-amazing-or-is-it.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4049271418748956379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4049271418748956379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/its-amazing-or-is-it.html' title='It&apos;s Amazing... or Is It?'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4504669497260327757</id><published>2010-11-27T09:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T09:48:19.978-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love My Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs264.ash1/19167_1130820125582_1679626036_253332_988064_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;This picture was taken last Christmas on Christmas morning. It's funny to look back at pictures, even ones from only a year ago, and see how much things have changed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;In this picture (from left to right) is my Mom, my older sister Morgan, her husband James, my aunt Debi, her boyfriend Lou, my younger sister Danielle, and my (step) dad Michael. On the front row is my husband Jake, me, and my grandma (Grandmama).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;This Christmas is Morgan and James' time to go with his family. I really miss them when they're not with us for holidays, but I understand. My sister Danielle got married this summer and her husband, John, will be joining us this Christmas as well. They are expecting a baby (in like 4 or 5 months)... see, things change.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I am excited for Christmas this year. I went shopping yesterday and cannot wait to give the gifts I have bought so far. I really put a lot of thought into gifts and love to see people's reactions when they open them. I have bought some good ones so far, so I am really excited!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4504669497260327757?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4504669497260327757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-love-my-family.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4504669497260327757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4504669497260327757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-love-my-family.html' title='I Love My Family'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-7649368044846646547</id><published>2010-11-24T09:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T09:40:55.599-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzrNEgIviMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/zlLeB5VwQjU/s1600/lookingout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzrNEgIviMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/zlLeB5VwQjU/s320/lookingout.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What I'm thankful for:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The less serious things-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Those awesome cookies with tons of icing from Walmart. Those things are awesome!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Clothes fresh out of the dryer on a cold day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Sales on things I really want (which means I can finally afford it!!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Picture frames. I love displaying pictures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Diet Coke. I LOVE that stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Blankets. I always feel better with a blanket. lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The semi-serious things-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Sunny days. No matter the temperature, sitting in the sun is always nice. Makes me feel like I have a connection with heaven.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. A house to live in... a roof over my head... a fence in my yard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. My job. This time last year I was not so lucky and I am blessed to have a job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Food to eat. Clothes to wear... all that stuff people need.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The more serious things-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. My family. I have an amazing family.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. My husband. I know God created us for one another because, honestly, no one else could put up with either of us. lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. My MilShelb. These two have made me a better person. Yeah, they're dogs... but grace comes in strange forms and they have taught me so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. My friends. I have&amp;nbsp;terrific&amp;nbsp;friends. They keep me sane (and normally with a smile on my face).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. The people I work with. I am getting to know these people more and am truly beginning to love them. They all have something interesting and important to add to my life. I am lucky to know them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Whitney. (I know, how unfair, I'm singling a friend out, but, let's be fair.) She's encouraged me to get back into the swing of things with going to church. She is awesome. Thank you, Whitney, for reminding me what is important in life... and it's nothing of this world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am truly a blessed person. When I'm standing right in the middle of the chaos that is my life, it's very easy to lose sight of that... but I truly am blessed and&amp;nbsp;thankful&amp;nbsp;beyond belief. My God is an AWESOME God. He has blessed my life in many ways I never believed possible nor thought probable. I am so glad. He has made me glad...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-7649368044846646547?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7649368044846646547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanksgiving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7649368044846646547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7649368044846646547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzrNEgIviMI/AAAAAAAAAEE/zlLeB5VwQjU/s72-c/lookingout.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1641658793097505884</id><published>2010-11-20T08:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T08:36:24.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is a Sad Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;My parents have to take Angel (the cat) to be put to sleep. It is such a sad thing. She is very old and not doing well. She has lost a pound in one week (and one pound is a big deal because she is already way too skinny). She has not been able to eat right or (as of last night) even walk. Mom called last night to tell me hat she will be gone today. So, to Angel...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Rainbow Bridge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;Author unknown...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1641658793097505884?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1641658793097505884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/today-is-sad-day.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1641658793097505884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1641658793097505884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/today-is-sad-day.html' title='Today is a Sad Day'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3646008704693327476</id><published>2010-11-18T18:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T18:56:22.215-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Week Before Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>It's a week before Thanksgiving and I've decided I'll post something I'm thankful for each day until Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today I am thankful for my MilShelb. They keep me sane. They are my heart. Love that MilShelb!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/S6T8QKXMgMI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/0EEvvDCfMMQ/s1600/l_52b3f66cf40008a215b374675266b72fa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="252" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/S6T8QKXMgMI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/0EEvvDCfMMQ/s320/l_52b3f66cf40008a215b374675266b72fa.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3646008704693327476?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3646008704693327476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/week-before-thanksgiving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3646008704693327476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3646008704693327476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/week-before-thanksgiving.html' title='A Week Before Thanksgiving'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/S6T8QKXMgMI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/0EEvvDCfMMQ/s72-c/l_52b3f66cf40008a215b374675266b72fa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4255204011754604950</id><published>2010-11-16T17:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T17:48:00.314-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4: Your Sibling(s)</title><content type='html'>Dear Morgan and Danielle,&lt;br /&gt;Things sure have changed since we were little. Here we are, all married... one about to have a baby... life is different. I am so thankful to have had you both in my life. I am thankful to know what it is like to have sisters. You two are so different; we all are. You make me smile. You make me laugh. At times, you make me want to scream and maybe even ask if you need a reality check... but you are my sisters and I love you. I am so thankful for your love and support. I am thankful for the advice you give and the advice you (kindly) accept from me even when you're not asking for it at all.&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to all of the changes that will continue to come our way. Babies, new homes, new pets, moves... everything. I am excited to see what the future holds for each of you.&lt;br /&gt;Love you so much,&lt;br /&gt;Maggie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TAr54mg00QI/AAAAAAAAAyw/NYsh7NRB4cU/s1600/DSC_1208ed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TAr54mg00QI/AAAAAAAAAyw/NYsh7NRB4cU/s320/DSC_1208ed.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4255204011754604950?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4255204011754604950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-4-your-siblings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4255204011754604950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4255204011754604950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-4-your-siblings.html' title='Day 4: Your Sibling(s)'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TAr54mg00QI/AAAAAAAAAyw/NYsh7NRB4cU/s72-c/DSC_1208ed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3724558938351879034</id><published>2010-11-15T17:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T17:43:00.417-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3: Your Parents</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(I skipped day 2 because I don't really have a "crush". lol)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Dear Mom and Michael,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I am blessed to have you as parents. You are generous and loving people. You have taught me a lot about life. You taught me to love God and put Him first. You taught me to love other people whether they deserve it or not. You taught me to bite my&amp;nbsp;tongue&amp;nbsp;and smile... even when I don't want to. You taught me to stand up for myself and to be independent.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Thank you for a wonderful childhood. Thank you for your sacrifices. Thank you for making our family a priority. Thank you for loving me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Love, Maggie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/S7kkW_Jc0hI/AAAAAAAAAQw/sZDqcjAw-M4/s1600/easter2010+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/S7kkW_Jc0hI/AAAAAAAAAQw/sZDqcjAw-M4/s320/easter2010+6.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3724558938351879034?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3724558938351879034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-3-your-parents.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3724558938351879034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3724558938351879034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-3-your-parents.html' title='Day 3: Your Parents'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/S7kkW_Jc0hI/AAAAAAAAAQw/sZDqcjAw-M4/s72-c/easter2010+6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1657866724639800917</id><published>2010-11-14T17:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T17:36:00.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1: Your Best Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Dear Katie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;You are awesome! You make me laugh. You tell me like it is. You keep my head in the game, so to speak. You are amazing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;It is so great to have a friend that knows me... really knows me... and still loves me just for exactly who I am. You and I have many great memories together. We have had our share of good times and bad times, but I think we both know that we are not "fair weather friends", but the kind of friends that make it through thick and thin.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I am thankful for you. I am&amp;nbsp;thankful&amp;nbsp;for your friendship. I am thankful for everything you have added to my life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I miss you all the time. I wish we still lived in the same town. It's hard to not see you as often as I'd like, but I truly love the time we get to spend together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for being awesome. Thank you for standing by me and pushing me to be my best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I love you, my Katie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TBQdkOkX8UI/AAAAAAAAA38/QPNGWw6jq2Q/s1600/meandkatie4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TBQdkOkX8UI/AAAAAAAAA38/QPNGWw6jq2Q/s320/meandkatie4.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TN8UB-2U94I/AAAAAAAABp4/GsgWFsdTXa0/s1600/DSCN2783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TN8UB-2U94I/AAAAAAAABp4/GsgWFsdTXa0/s320/DSCN2783.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TN8ULhCnDCI/AAAAAAAABp8/gj0Y5rQONfs/s1600/DSCN2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TN8ULhCnDCI/AAAAAAAABp8/gj0Y5rQONfs/s320/DSCN2529.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1657866724639800917?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1657866724639800917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-1-your-best-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1657866724639800917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1657866724639800917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-1-your-best-friend.html' title='Day 1: Your Best Friend'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TBQdkOkX8UI/AAAAAAAAA38/QPNGWw6jq2Q/s72-c/meandkatie4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-418510156437619766</id><published>2010-11-13T17:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T17:36:26.471-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This looks Like Fun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;WRITE A LETTER TO THESE PEOPLE :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 1 — Your Best Friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 2 — Your Crush&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 3 — Your parents&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 5 — Your dreams&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 6 — A stranger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 7 — Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 8 — Your favorite internet friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 11 — A deceased person you wish you could talk to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 15 — The person you miss the most&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 17 — Someone from your childhood&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind—good or bad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 23 — The last person you kissed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 28 — Someone that changed your life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 29 — The person that you want tell everything to, but too afraid to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;Of course, I never keep up with these things... but I'll give this one a shot. lol&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-418510156437619766?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/418510156437619766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/this-looks-like-fun.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/418510156437619766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/418510156437619766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/this-looks-like-fun.html' title='This looks Like Fun!'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3583792844744958516</id><published>2010-11-13T17:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T17:17:42.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Part About Owning A Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;I saw&lt;a href="http://www.findoutaboutdogs.com/The_Best_Part_About_Owning_A_Dog.html"&gt; this&lt;/a&gt; and it inspired this post....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;The best part about owning a dog:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;is pulling up in the driveway and seeing their little heads pop up over the edge of the back of the couch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;is walking in the door to two wiggly bodies that are so GLAD to see me... me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;is waking up to two funny little babies dragging their bodies up from the end of the bed to lick my face... tail wagging the whole way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;is having someone to share a blanket with on the big chair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;is having a built in security system. Nothing gets by these girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;is funny little noises and crazy loud barks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;is ears twitching and noses moving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;is puppy feet and wagging tails.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"&gt;is love. So much love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3583792844744958516?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3583792844744958516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/best-part-about-owning-dog.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3583792844744958516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3583792844744958516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/best-part-about-owning-dog.html' title='The Best Part About Owning A Dog'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4203318518807271267</id><published>2010-11-12T19:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T19:28:55.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Heart Is Tired</title><content type='html'>My heart is tired. There are so many things weighing on me lately and I am just really having a hard time dealing with all of the stress. I can tell that the stress is taking a toll on me. I walk into a room and forget what I was doing. I do that all the time now. I will be in the middle of a sentence and forget where I was going with it. I can't ever finish one thing before I start another. I am worn out.&lt;br /&gt;I keep being put in the middle of situations that I don't want to be... that I shouldn't be in. I want to be there for people, but I simply can only take so much. I am only one person.&lt;br /&gt;I worry a lot. I used to never worry about anything. Well, that's a lie. I worried but things didn't eat at me the way they do now. Now I just get things in my head and just can't leave them alone. I even wake up in the middle of the night thinking about something I meant to do and didn't and how it is going to make something else messed up. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be positive again. I want to be upbeat again. I want to be happy. Not that I'm not happy. I wouldn't say I'm unhappy, just stressed. There's more to do in one day than there could ever be time for. I don't have time for me and I don't have time to finish everything I need to do. I mean, I feel like I can't give 100% to anything I do because I don't have it to give. I feel like if something does get 100% then something else gets about 10% or nothing. It's frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. Enough complaining. I'm done with being negative. I need to go back to not dwelling on the negative. I need to be more positive. I will work on that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4203318518807271267?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4203318518807271267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-heart-is-tired.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4203318518807271267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4203318518807271267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-heart-is-tired.html' title='My Heart Is Tired'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4468893569198207042</id><published>2010-11-09T19:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T19:44:33.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Own Little World By Matthew West</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;In my own little world it hardly ever rains&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I’ve never gone hungry or always felt safe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I got some money in my pocket shoes on my feet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;In my own little world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Population me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I try to stay awake through the Sunday morning church&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I throw a twenty in the plate but I never give ’til it hurts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;and I turn off the&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="wp_keywordlink" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metal-head.org/news/" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #0052a3; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" title="news"&gt;news&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;when I don’t like what I see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;it’s easy to do when it’s&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;population me&lt;br /&gt;courtesy OriginaLyric.Info&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;What if there’s a bigger picture&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;what if I’m missing out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;What if there’s a greater purpose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I could be living right now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;outside my own little world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Stopped at the red light, looked out my window&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Outside the car, saw a sign, said “Help this homeless widow”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Just above this sign was the face of a human&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I thought to myself, “God, what have I been doing?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;So I rolled down my window and I looked her in the eye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Oh how many times have I just passed her by&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I gave her some money then I drove on through&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;in my own little world there’s&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Population two&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;What if there’s a bigger picture&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;what if I’m missing out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;What if there’s a greater purpose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;I could be living right now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;outside my own little world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Start breaking my&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="wp_keywordlink" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metal-head.org/tag/heart/" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #0052a3; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" title="heart"&gt;heart&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;for what breaks Yours&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;give me open hands and open doors&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;put Your light in my eyes and let me see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;that my own little world is not about me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.75em; margin-bottom: 0.2em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I think that's changing... I can tell. I can tell that my own little world which was made up of myself, my husband, and the MilShelb now (CRAZILY) includes fifteen other people. Fifteen people who depend on me daily to do the right thing... to be there... to believe in them. I'm learning just what it means to be a teacher... it means that these kids become an important part of your world.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4468893569198207042?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4468893569198207042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-own-little-world-by-matthew-west.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4468893569198207042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4468893569198207042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-own-little-world-by-matthew-west.html' title='My Own Little World By Matthew West'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1594414470787806036</id><published>2010-11-07T19:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T19:12:18.472-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This Crazy Life I Lead</title><content type='html'>You know, life is crazy. I think most people will agree with me on this. Life has a way of taking crazy turns and knocking you down at times you can't take it... and picking you up when you least expect the help. Life is nuts.&lt;br /&gt;All that said, I never cease to be amazed at the things life throws my way. I am continuing to learn just how unpredictable life is. Each and every day something new is thrown at me. I have days when I am worn out. Days when I simply cannot take any more... and then someone says something to wake me back up, pick me up, and push me to keep going.&lt;br /&gt;I am a blessed person. I am truly blessed beyond belief. I'm not referring to material things- though I am blessed in that way as well, I am referring to the people in my life. I am surrounded by people who pick me up and keep me going. I am surrounded by people who "get me". They know me. They love me. They understand me.&lt;br /&gt;I am making friends at work... finally. I am starting to feel that I fit in and am not looked at as such an outcast. I am finding my rhythm in life... finding a routine and settling down.&lt;br /&gt;You know, with all that positive stuff going on, there is still so much negative and so many things to overcome. I am having a hard time overlooking the bad some days and focusing on the good.&lt;br /&gt;There are days when I just want to give up... thrown in the towel and say, "I've given all I've got. I'm done." I do say it to myself sometimes... but the next morning I get out of bed and go through another day and I make it.&lt;br /&gt;I am learning that sometimes it is ok to just get through the day. I don't have to be in love with my life all the time. I don't have to look at the "upside" all the time. It's ok to be&amp;nbsp;disappointed. Stuff happens and it's ok to deal with it without a smile on my face. What a very un-Maggie-like idea... but, I believe, a very grown up one.&lt;br /&gt;Mostly, I'm satisfied with the fact that I am finding my way. Jake and I are finding our ways. So much around us is changing and some of it is for the better and some of it is not, but we are still going strong. I figure as long as we stick together, there's really nothing I cannot handle. I sure do love that man...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1594414470787806036?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1594414470787806036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/this-crazy-life-i-lead.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1594414470787806036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1594414470787806036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/11/this-crazy-life-i-lead.html' title='This Crazy Life I Lead'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-5605347572923891330</id><published>2010-10-30T08:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T08:58:21.564-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 13: Goals</title><content type='html'>I think about goals all the time. I teach my students to set goals for themselves. Goals are an important part of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My (daily life) goals are very simple ones: (in no particular order)&lt;br /&gt;1. Be the kind of wife God expects me to be.&lt;br /&gt;2. Be the kind of Christian woman God expects me to be.&lt;br /&gt;3. Be a good MilShelb Mom.&lt;br /&gt;4. Be a caring teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goals for the future: (in no particular order)&lt;br /&gt;1. Pass evaluations.&lt;br /&gt;2. Become debt-free.&lt;br /&gt;3. Buy a house.&lt;br /&gt;4. Make that house a home.&lt;br /&gt;5. Take vacations with Jake and the MilShelb.&lt;br /&gt;6. Get to heaven!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-5605347572923891330?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5605347572923891330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-13-goals.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5605347572923891330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5605347572923891330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-13-goals.html' title='Day 13: Goals'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-7061707689267083363</id><published>2010-10-29T19:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T19:49:28.672-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Skipping Around Again</title><content type='html'>Day 12- What You Believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I skipped to day 12. I thought this one looked very interesting. I had to do a little thinking, because that is a broad topic... so, I thought I'd divide it into categories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD&lt;br /&gt;I believe in God with every fiber of my being. He is the Alpha and the Omega. The Beginning and the End. He is all that is and was and is to come. He is my reason for living. I believe in a loving God... an all-knowing God. A God who loves me and cares for me. A God who&amp;nbsp;answers&amp;nbsp;my prayers. I believe in a God who loves all people- even those who deny Him. I believe in a God that is worth living out loud for... and I do my best to live out loud for God each and every day of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Children&lt;br /&gt;I believe in children. I believe that all children deserve a quality education and to be taught by someone who loves them and believes in them. I believe that children are the best and most precious&amp;nbsp;natural&amp;nbsp;resource we have and they should be nurtured and brought up with manners, class, honesty, and the truth. I believe in believing in my students and letting them know that I believe in the with all of my heart and that I will do anything in my power to help them to succeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Public Education&lt;br /&gt;I believe in public education. I wish more people believed in public education. If we worked this right it could really make a difference in the future of our country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Husband&lt;br /&gt;I believe in my husband. I believe in love at first sight. I believe in a one true undying love. I believe in a love that wraps you up and holds you close and never lets you go. I believe that my husband works hard for us. He believes in me. HE believes in ME. I am so blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiles&lt;br /&gt;I believe that smiles can make someone's day better just as frowns can make someone's day much worse. You never know how much a smile can help someone out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gratitude&lt;br /&gt;I believe in always being thankful and grateful for what you've been given. I believe in expressing gratitude whenever possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-7061707689267083363?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7061707689267083363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/skipping-around-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7061707689267083363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7061707689267083363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/skipping-around-again.html' title='Skipping Around Again'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3144230897118812417</id><published>2010-10-28T21:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T21:17:44.537-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Call Me a Cheater...</title><content type='html'>call me what you'd like... but I'm skipping to Day 10: Something You're Afraid Of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be afraid of being alone. I'm not anymore. I have Jake. I know he will never leave me... until his dying day. He is an amazing man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be afraid of the dark... and, to be honest, I still am... but that's for another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I take that back. Maybe I'll just make a list of things I'm afraid of...&lt;br /&gt;1. the dark. :) I refuse to walk through a dark house... even my own. I hate dark parking lots, dark cars, just dark in general. I always feel like someone is behind me. Weird, I know.&lt;br /&gt;2. the "unknown". I am afraid of things unknown to me... like, people dying. It's unknown when the people I love most will leave this earth and I am afraid to lose them.&lt;br /&gt;3. losing my MilShelb. I hate to think of a day without them... mostly because I hardly remember my life before them. They have really changed my life.&lt;br /&gt;4. Shelby running away. That girl is an escape artist. If there is a tiny hole in the fence, you'd best bet she'll find it and be gone in a heartbeat. So far, I have been fortunate enough to have been able to keep up with her... but you just never know.&lt;br /&gt;5. Fire. I am deathly afraid of fire. I'd say one of my worst fears is my house catching on fire. I just cannot imagine the panic that would go through me. I would not know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;6. (I know this may sound a bit odd... but I'll admit it) I am afraid of not telling Jake that I love him and then something happening to him or to me. I tell that man I love him every time I leave the house. I just never ever want him to wonder if I truly did... because I truly do.&lt;br /&gt;7. getting in trouble. Now, I know that sounds strange and sounds like I am up to no good, but that's not the case. Because of this fear I am constantly checking and rechecking everything. I hate having people fuss at me. It rarely happens, but I always feel like total crap afterwards and go over and over in my mind what I should have done. Good thing I rarely get in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;8. last but not least, passing evaluations. (If you don't know much about teaching in SC, we have to go through evaluations in&amp;nbsp;order&amp;nbsp;to become teachers with more&amp;nbsp;permanent&amp;nbsp;teaching certificates. It can be a very difficult process.) What will I do if I don't pass?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about fear is that it's really pointless. The thing that is happening will happen whether you fear it or not. You're supposed to put your fears, burdens, and worries on God. I need to do that more... and rely on myself less.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3144230897118812417?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3144230897118812417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/call-me-cheater.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3144230897118812417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3144230897118812417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/call-me-cheater.html' title='Call Me a Cheater...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-893753309840484137</id><published>2010-10-26T18:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-26T18:25:09.081-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6- A Picture of Something That Makes You Happy</title><content type='html'>I'm making up for lost time. You've gotta do what you can when you have the time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdU6Bd2MzI/AAAAAAAABpk/d5tI9RIHqTo/s1600/21033_790244506637_12614252_43996909_5129626_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdU6Bd2MzI/AAAAAAAABpk/d5tI9RIHqTo/s320/21033_790244506637_12614252_43996909_5129626_n.jpg" width="206" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;This was a wonderful day. Jake and I were both home and we got to play in the snow with the MilShelb. We loved it. I think about all the happiness on that day and smile. We don't get to spend as much time together (all 4 of us) anymore because we've (sadly) entered the world of working people where you spend more time working and sleeping than anything else... but oh to be back there just for a bit. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-893753309840484137?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/893753309840484137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-6-picture-of-something-that-makes.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/893753309840484137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/893753309840484137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-6-picture-of-something-that-makes.html' title='Day 6- A Picture of Something That Makes You Happy'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdU6Bd2MzI/AAAAAAAABpk/d5tI9RIHqTo/s72-c/21033_790244506637_12614252_43996909_5129626_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-2809907452468035981</id><published>2010-10-26T18:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-26T18:20:42.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5- Your Siblings</title><content type='html'>Well, I warned you I'd be horrible at this- and I am. But, to be fair to myself, I have been very sick since Saturday and haven't really been able to use the computer much. But, I'm&amp;nbsp;feeling&amp;nbsp;some better now and will be going back to work tomorrow... anyhoo... my siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdRe6LvxFI/AAAAAAAABpY/YmJQHy5zFiI/s1600/5C65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdRe6LvxFI/AAAAAAAABpY/YmJQHy5zFiI/s1600/5C65.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdR5Z6SzrI/AAAAAAAABpc/mQTjyItQhYo/s1600/5C66.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdR5Z6SzrI/AAAAAAAABpc/mQTjyItQhYo/s1600/5C66.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdSLJwzS_I/AAAAAAAABpg/XN32yKjO77Q/s1600/october+16+028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdSLJwzS_I/AAAAAAAABpg/XN32yKjO77Q/s320/october+16+028.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I was born an only child. However, my Mom remarried and I now have two sisters. I have known them since I was 6 or so... so, basically my whole life. Growing up we were very different. To this day, we remain very different people. I find it truly amazing that we are able to get along, because we are so different.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;My sisters are both married. They both have a dog (and cats, but I don't hold that against them ;)). They both graduated (like me) from the University of South Carolina. My older sister went on to graduate school and now teaches college courses at a school in Indiana. My younger sister is recently married and works at a boutique.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;We may be very different, lead very different lives, have different goals, dreams, ideas... but we have so much in common- where we came from. My sisters taught me a lot about life. Because I was born an only child (and was pretty much still raised as one even though they were a part of my life), they taught me more about friendship than about being sisters. We did not have the traditional home life. We do not share any of the same parents through birth. My Mom and their dad are married. Simple as that... and yet very complex. It's really hard to put into words our relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;It's hard to sum up, but they taught me so much. I love them each... for different reasons. They are unique, wonderful ladies and I am blessed to call them family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;-Linda Sunshine&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-2809907452468035981?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2809907452468035981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-5-your-siblings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2809907452468035981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2809907452468035981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-5-your-siblings.html' title='Day 5- Your Siblings'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TMdRe6LvxFI/AAAAAAAABpY/YmJQHy5zFiI/s72-c/5C65.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4230203626221115956</id><published>2010-10-20T19:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T19:53:47.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4- Your Parents</title><content type='html'>&lt;img height="212" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs395.snc3/24041_1192949398775_1679626036_368456_5554026_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have amazing parents. Some may even go so far as to call them spectacular! I have parents who believe in me, taught me right from wrong, and taught me to love and fear the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;I was raised in a Christian home. I ate dinner every night with my parents and sisters. We ate together, prayed together, spent time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, my parents strove to give me the best there was. They sacrificed for me. They made sure that I had everything I needed and most of what I wanted. My mother even gave up an entire summer to teach summer school to save money to send me to&amp;nbsp;Europe&amp;nbsp;for two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in the house with my mom and step-dad. My real dad died when I was a baby. He was killed in a car accident. For a few years it was just me and mom, and then came Michael and his two kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family is big on vacations. We have visited tons of places and I am very blessed by that. I have seen so many places and learned so much. I have my parents to thank for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family is important to my Mom. She loves family. She taught me to put family first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom rocks. I mean that. She is a generous, loving, kind woman. She taught me to give to others and not expect things in return. She also taught me to be independent and stand up for myself. I know that God knew what he was doing when He put me and mom together. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to my parents- thank you for everything! You are amazing people. I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4230203626221115956?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4230203626221115956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-4-your-parents.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4230203626221115956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4230203626221115956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-4-your-parents.html' title='Day 4- Your Parents'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6404553400911702722</id><published>2010-10-16T10:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T10:49:27.112-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3- Your First Love</title><content type='html'>Well, I'll be the brave one. I'll admit it. My husband is not my first love. When I was in high school I dated a guy (who shall remain nameless) for nearly 2 years. We were best friends. We spent lots of time together... you know, typical high school sweet heart relationships. As with many of these high school relationships, life changed after high school. We went to two different colleges in two different towns. We grew. We changed. Bad decisions were made and it ended. I learned a lot from "boy who shall remain nameless". Mostly, I learned that people can love you one moment and&amp;nbsp;disappoint&amp;nbsp;you the next. I learned to stand up for myself. I learned that I deserve someone who would never hurt me or make the choices that were made by "boy who shall remain nameless". I learned what a real true broken heart feels like. I learned to stand on my own two feet and to be my very own person.&lt;br /&gt;Eventually I learned that this was all part of God's plan. God was preparing me for Jake. For my husband. He knew that Jake needed a woman who is independent. He needed a woman who will stand up for herself and her family and what she believes in. He needed a woman who knows to stand at his side and stand behind him to back him up all at the same time. God knew that I needed to understand that people will hurt you, but Jake never will. I trust Jake with my heart, my life... because I learned what it looks like to not be able to trust someone. I am so thankful for that lesson.&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for my first love, because it prepared me for my true love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6404553400911702722?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6404553400911702722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-3-your-first-love.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6404553400911702722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6404553400911702722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-3-your-first-love.html' title='Day 3- Your First Love'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6264979525456899039</id><published>2010-10-14T20:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T20:31:36.862-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2- The Meaning Behind Your Blog Name</title><content type='html'>Well, my blog is called "The Everyday Life of a MilShelb Mom" because MilShelb are my babies and my life revolves around them. They are my life. Well, I wish I had more time with them, to be honest, but I am a very busy person and my every day life does not include as much time for my MilShelb as I would like... but, back to the meaning of the name.&lt;br /&gt;MilShelb= Milly and Shelby&lt;br /&gt;Milly and Shelby= my two mini Dachshunds&lt;br /&gt;It's called the everyday life of because I mostly write about things in my day to day life. I just write about boring things, venting, and of course I write about Milly and Shelby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's that simple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6264979525456899039?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6264979525456899039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-2-meaning-behind-your-blog-name.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6264979525456899039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6264979525456899039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-2-meaning-behind-your-blog-name.html' title='Day 2- The Meaning Behind Your Blog Name'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-5947640554347358522</id><published>2010-10-13T20:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T20:35:51.345-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Day One</title><content type='html'>I figure while I'm sitting here I might as well do my first entry... so, here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Maggie. I'm 24. I'll be 25 in December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TLZN6fQgnpI/AAAAAAAABpI/E-P6HZY7vm0/s1600/alabama+game+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TLZN6fQgnpI/AAAAAAAABpI/E-P6HZY7vm0/s320/alabama+game+011.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;15 Facts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;1. I'm married to an awesome guy named Jake. He's the love of my life and the one person I can tell anything and everything to... and the one person I can count on to tell me like it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;2. I am a proud MilShelb mom. They are my miniature Dachshunds and my pride and joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;3. I graduated from college (USC- go Gamecocks!) with a BA in Elementary Education.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;4. I teach second grade. I take my job very seriously. A crappy second grade teacher can really mess things up for you in the future. These kids are my babies and I am their teacher, role model, and advocate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;5. I (like Katie where I found this challenge) hate ketchup. I do not eat it. I will NOT touch it. It is gross.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;6. I love all animals. I even love insects. Ok, love is too strong. I love all animals. I don't kill insects. (Ok. I kill mosquitoes. They're nasty.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;7. I live for the moment I walk in the door to my house and my sweet babies greet me with wags and barks hello. It makes my heart melt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;8. I love skittles. I really do. They're wonderful. (Only the red bag. All others are gross. lol)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;9. I only like football because my husband does. I actually don't care much for football, but I love the atmosphere. It's so energizing!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;10. I believe that God has a plan for everyone. Every single bad day is in His plans. Every single strange happening... all that... it's in His plan for a bigger picture that no one can even imagine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;11. I am obsessed with Shelby's feet. (Shelby's the Shelb in MilShelb.) She just has such cute little tiny feet!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;12. I really think that Milly and Shelby know how I feel about things. I know they don't speak english- but, really, they don't have to. They know how I feel and I love that about them. They're wonderful!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;13. I have a love-hate relationship with the copier at work. I love it when it works, but it almost never does exactly what I want it to do, so most of the time we aren't getting along.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;14. I am stressed to the MAX 99.9% of the time. I really think that it is a great thing my head is attached to my body, because otherwise there's just no telling where I'd leave it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;15. I love my life. It is crazy. It is hectic. It is chaotic. But, I live every single day doing something that I love. I spend every single day in a marriage to an amazing man. I go to work with awesome teachers who are there for the RIGHT reason- because they want to HELP children. I come home each night to my sweet babies who think I'm awesome! I may go 500,000 mph every day, but I just love every minute of it. I know I complain a lot about the craziness of it all, but to be 100% honest, I wouldn't trade it for the world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-5947640554347358522?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5947640554347358522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5947640554347358522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5947640554347358522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-one.html' title='Day One'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TLZN6fQgnpI/AAAAAAAABpI/E-P6HZY7vm0/s72-c/alabama+game+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8336935741742161999</id><published>2010-10-13T20:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T20:21:21.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Day Challenge</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS', 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"&gt;Day 1-Introduce, recent picture, 15 interesting facts&lt;br /&gt;Day 2-Meaning behind your blog name&lt;br /&gt;Day 3-Your first love&lt;br /&gt;Day 4-Your parents&lt;br /&gt;Day 5-Your siblings&lt;br /&gt;Day 6-A picture of something that makes you happy&lt;br /&gt;Day 7-Favorite movies&lt;br /&gt;Day 8-A place you've traveled to&lt;br /&gt;Day 9-A picture of your friends&lt;br /&gt;Day 10-Something you're afraid of&lt;br /&gt;Day 11-Favorite tv shows&lt;br /&gt;Day 12-What you believe&lt;br /&gt;Day 13-Goals&lt;br /&gt;Day 14-A picture you love&lt;br /&gt;Day 15-Bible verse&lt;br /&gt;Day 16-Dream house&lt;br /&gt;Day 17-Something you're looking forward to&lt;br /&gt;Day 18-Something you regret&lt;br /&gt;Day 19-Something you miss&lt;br /&gt;Day 20-Nicknames&lt;br /&gt;Day 21-Picture of yourself&lt;br /&gt;Day 22-Favorite city&lt;br /&gt;Day 23-Favorite vacation&lt;br /&gt;Day 24-Something you've learned&lt;br /&gt;Day 25-Put your iPod on shuffle, first 10 songs&lt;br /&gt;Day 26-Picture of your family&lt;br /&gt;Day 27-Pets&lt;br /&gt;Day 28-Something that stresses you out&lt;br /&gt;Day 29-3 Wishes&lt;br /&gt;Day 30-a picture&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;I found this &lt;a href="http://katieslifejourney.blogspot.com/"&gt;30 Day Blog Challenge&lt;/a&gt; and will be participating in it. I won't promise I'll write something every single day- because I know I won't. Let's be honest... life gets in the way, but, I do want to participate... so here goes nothing! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8336935741742161999?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8336935741742161999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/30-day-challenge.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8336935741742161999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8336935741742161999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/30-day-challenge.html' title='30 Day Challenge'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-7664577381189645548</id><published>2010-10-02T20:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T20:45:15.945-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Better Life...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" style="background-image: url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/RjlX1_Jq4EY/hqdefault.jpg);" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RjlX1_Jq4EY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RjlX1_Jq4EY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Jake... that's all that really matters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-7664577381189645548?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7664577381189645548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/better-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7664577381189645548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7664577381189645548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/better-life.html' title='A Better Life...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-329729310741203713</id><published>2010-10-01T21:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T21:29:24.609-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Probably Shouldn't Post This...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I won't say who this is about... and, actually, I've typed this thing about 50 times. But, this is the last one or I won't even bother posting it because I seriously am tired and just want to go to bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;My brain is so scattered right now that I can't really think straight. I do that when I have too much going on... which seems to be my life lately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;You know, I am not a person who goes looking for drama. Really. I'm not.&amp;nbsp;Plenty&amp;nbsp;of people say that, but I MEAN it. I am not. I truly would rather run and hide from it, but I always end up right where I don't want to be- stuck in the middle of an impossible situation. Yuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I really try to mind my own business. I mean, between Jake, the MilShelb, and my 16 kids, my job, my class I have to take, and all the other odds and ends of my life, I really have more than my fair share of crap going on. Yet, that's not ever enough. Others seem to feel the need to pile it on me. I have a hard time saying, "no. Don't tell me that. I don't want to hear it and I cannot possibly keep your secret." Of course, I don't say that. I listen. I take it in. I feel for them. I can't sleep half the time because of someone else's problems. I really care way too much about other people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I have decided that for my own sanity, I am going to start saying no. I am going to start saying, "please don't make me your confidant. I cannot take it." Or, "Well, you can tell me but I'm&amp;nbsp;at least&amp;nbsp;telling Jake because I just have to have someone to talk things through with." That poor man, between me and all my crap and everyone else I know's crap he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders (and yet he just goes on with his life. Nothing bothers him.).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;The point is, if you know you're one of those people who are weighing me down with your burdens, this is my silent cry- please stop. It's not that I don't want to be your friend. It's not that you can't talk to me. It's not that you can't confide in me, but choose carefully because I simply cannot take all of your stresses and carry them, too. I cannot do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-329729310741203713?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/329729310741203713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/probably-shouldnt-post-this.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/329729310741203713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/329729310741203713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/10/probably-shouldnt-post-this.html' title='Probably Shouldn&apos;t Post This...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3236013561064583784</id><published>2010-09-28T18:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T18:53:29.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'>As the saying goes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;There comes a point in your life when you realize:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; padding-bottom: 15px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who matters,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; padding-bottom: 15px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who never did,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; padding-bottom: 15px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who won't anymore...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; padding-bottom: 15px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;And who always will.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; padding-bottom: 15px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;So, don't worry about people from your past,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; padding-bottom: 15px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;there's a reason why they didn't make it to your future&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;So so true. Some days it's time to grow up and move on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;You know, every day I thank God for Jake. Even when he makes me mad. That's the first thing I pray each night, "thank you for Jake". I know how lucky I am. I know how truly blessed I am. I look around at other people's lives and situations and am constantly grateful for mine. It's not always easy, it's not always fun, it's sometimes hard to find the "worth it" in life, but I know that no matter what happens I am coming home to a man who loves me, who accepts me, who understand me. I know that at the end of each day I pray to a God who knows, hears, and sees all things. Who loves me even though I am a sinner and am unworthy of His love. I know that I will always have two sweet cuddlers who love me and are thrilled to see me walk in the door. I know that I have people by my side that do not question my actions or ethics. I know that I have made the best decisions I could for that day. Mostly, I know that with God by my side I can do anything. I am so glad for that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;I have learned in life that things will always get worse before they get better and that you have to make the most of the cards you've been dealt.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;Things are getting interesting but I'm hanging in there!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/196/89795CD48FB5937258EEECCED2055EE6.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3236013561064583784?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3236013561064583784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/as-saying-goes.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3236013561064583784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3236013561064583784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/as-saying-goes.html' title='As the saying goes...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-8374136967161664970</id><published>2010-09-27T20:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T20:11:08.242-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I Should Bite My Tongue... Again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;You know, I wrote an entire blog about forgiveness and all that stuff, but I erased it. What I want to say can be summed up like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Forgive.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Let it go.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;And move on.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Be the bigger person.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;And I have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I shall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I am trying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/196/89795CD48FB5937258EEECCED2055EE6.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-8374136967161664970?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8374136967161664970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/maybe-i-should-bite-my-tongue-again.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8374136967161664970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/8374136967161664970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/maybe-i-should-bite-my-tongue-again.html' title='Maybe I Should Bite My Tongue... Again.'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-7599950523821013031</id><published>2010-09-21T19:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T19:33:58.397-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Most of the time I bite my tongue...</title><content type='html'>But not today. Today I am angry. I am angry that, once again, teachers are being misrepresented. I am tired of it. If you are not a teacher then you could not possibly have a CLUE what it's like. So, I'll walk you through my day...&lt;br /&gt;4:45- alarm clock goes off&lt;br /&gt;5:30 (or 5:40)- leave house&lt;br /&gt;6:30- arrive at school&lt;br /&gt;6:30-7:30- prepare for day (make copies, run errands in school, write morning message, clean up, organize work stations, experiments, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;7:30- kids arrive in room&lt;br /&gt;7:30-8:00- spend time repeating myself many times to remind children of procedures and help them with their morning work, check agendas for notes from parents, check homework&lt;br /&gt;8:00-8:15- morning meeting (discuss date, weather, number of days in school, etc)&lt;br /&gt;8:15-9:20- teach literacy (help children with reading, spelling, vocabulary), repeat tons of times what they should and should not be doing, ask them one more time to please stop talking over me&lt;br /&gt;9:20-10:00- kids go to related arts (this means that I get to use the restroom, grade papers, enter grades, prepare for math, science, social studies, call parents)&lt;br /&gt;10:00-11:05- more literacy, children go to work stations to reinforce what they've just learned, I teach phonics and spend any spare time asking children to please get to proper work station and work on their work&lt;br /&gt;11:05-12:05- teach math, remind them of what we've been doing, review, model new math, have them practice, call small groups, help kids in small groups, remind other students to please get quiet and work on their own work, wrap up lesson and review once more (take mental notes of things they're not understanding so that it can be focused on again tomorrow= replan.)&lt;br /&gt;12:05-12:35- teach&amp;nbsp;social&amp;nbsp;studies, review what we learned previously, repeat myself for what feels like the millionth time (but I would literally do a million times if they needed me to), make sure they understand the topic&lt;br /&gt;12:35- line up for lunch, get 16 people quiet and in a line and not fighting, pushing, or anything else, manage to get down the hall way in one piece&lt;br /&gt;12:40-1:05- lunch (which means opening everything, helping kids with table manners, making sure they're not too loud... does not mean I actually get to eat anything)&lt;br /&gt;1:10-1:30- recess (the kids play, I ref.)&lt;br /&gt;1:30-1:35- water and bathroom break&lt;br /&gt;1:35-2:20- teach science (use planned experiment, repeat directions multiple times to make sure they get it, let them go at it, regroup and discuss)&lt;br /&gt;2:20-2:40- sign agendas (make notes on behavior), read aloud if extra time, pack up book bags, make sure they have everything they need to take home in their book bags&lt;br /&gt;2:40-3:00 (every other week)- bus duty- make sure one group of kids get on their bus when it arrives&lt;br /&gt;3:00-4:30 (or later if needed)- make copies, call parents, replan lessons, prepare for next day, grade papers, plan small groups... etc. etc. etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is, a lot goes into a day of teaching. So much more than could possibly be put on here. Am I always cheerful? No. Am I always pleased with their decisions? No. Am I always the BEST teacher ever? I doubt it. However, these kids are my life. Literally. I work my rear end off for THEM. I work 10-12 hours a day for them. Why? Well, I'll tell ya, it sure ain't for the money! ;) It's because my desire is for them to succeed. If that means early mornings and late nights, so be it. If that means frustration to the point of tears because they aren't giving me their all- good. If that means giving a huge hug and pat on the back for a job well done... GREAT! The thing is, no one can understand what it's like to be a teacher until you are a teacher. Until you walk a day in a teacher's shoes you cannot know what it means. I love those kids. I worry about them. I pray for them. I work FOR them. No one goes into teaching for anything else. They go into teaching for the kids. they go into it to make a difference. I realize there are problems. I'd be lying if I didn't admit it, but the honest truth is that teachers are out there every single day&amp;nbsp;working&amp;nbsp;hard for someone else's child. They are out there giving their all to someone else... so someone else can succeed. Don't tell me that it is the teachers's fault that the school systems are failing. Don't stand there and tell me that. I work my rear end off to give my kids everything they need... tons of time and my own money go into each child in my room. You know what, I wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;I will never give up on my kids. I will never give up on the public school system. I know that we can succeed just as I know that my kids can. We just need more people to back us up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, that's my two cents. I'm done now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-7599950523821013031?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7599950523821013031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/most-of-time-i-bite-my-tongue.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7599950523821013031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/7599950523821013031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/most-of-time-i-bite-my-tongue.html' title='Most of the time I bite my tongue...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-1976804674240051857</id><published>2010-09-12T19:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T19:36:21.193-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is...</title><content type='html'>Life is never exactly what it seems to be... or what you'd want it to be. You know, the funny thing is that I am getting to the point where I am ok with that. Maybe this is my training for something else. Who knows. I have been put in such strange situations lately and I have come out on top. I am really pretty proud of myself. I have learned to make the most of difficult situations and just accept things as they come. Now, don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean I like all of the strange situations and difficult circumstances, it just means I am working on growing up.&lt;br /&gt;I love teaching. I really truly do. It is just something in my heart that tells me I am doing something great. I don't think I'm making huge differences every single day. To be honest, I'm probably not making huge differences at any time in the day, but the important thing is that I am giving it my all. My kids notice things like that. When I half-way my way through a conversation or am half-hearted about something they know it. They deserve my best and so I strive to give them that each day. I know plenty of teachers who hand out worksheets and book pages and that's it. They don't really give it&amp;nbsp;anything&amp;nbsp;and they go home at the end of the day with energy to spare. &amp;nbsp;I am at school at 6:30 each morning. I leave around 4 or 4:30. I am exhausted when I&amp;nbsp;get&amp;nbsp;home. I give my all to those kids.&lt;br /&gt;You know, I had an interesting conversation with one of my students the other day. I explained to him that I do not read minds. It is not one of my talents, so if he needs help with something or doesn't like something or is afraid of something he needs to tell me. I told him I am here for him. I told him it is my job to see to it that he gets everything he needs and that I am working hard to see him succeed. I explained to him that I care about him and his success and that seeing him not try his hardest hurts my feelings because I know he is better than that. He just looked at me and smiled and said, "I promise I'll talk to you about things and ask for help." I hope he does. I really would love for each of them to succeed at their dreams!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-1976804674240051857?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1976804674240051857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/life-is.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1976804674240051857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/1976804674240051857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/life-is.html' title='Life is...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4540658994283125581</id><published>2010-09-11T20:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T20:01:10.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>9/11</title><content type='html'>You know, I remember exactly where I was when I found out about the attacks. I was in high school in French class. What a horrible day. I can remember not really understanding the total awfulness of the whole thing but thinking it was cool that we got to watch tv at school and not really do any work. I've always been a person who kind of turns a blind eye to the news and stuff (shame on me, I know) and, let's face it, in high school many of us were more concerned about our date Friday night than the world around us... and that was me. However, I knew instantly that many people lost their lives and that even if I didn't know them there were many people who lost loved ones... friends, parents, sisters, brothers... I prayed for them and their lost loved ones. I prayed for the people who did it... that one day we would all understand, however, there is no understanding to such a cruel act. I will never understand, but I will say that I am and will continue to be proud to be an American. People can try to break us, but our spirit remains in tact. We will always&amp;nbsp;persevere. We will always come together in times of need. We lost many wonderful people that day, but we gained so much... we gained a dying spirit... and I am so proud to be an American!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4540658994283125581?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4540658994283125581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/911.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4540658994283125581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4540658994283125581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/911.html' title='9/11'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-2618291057309857586</id><published>2010-09-10T21:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T21:17:31.664-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Weekends...</title><content type='html'>How I do miss you so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you are just a time for more school work and no play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How very, truly, utterly sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-2618291057309857586?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2618291057309857586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/oh-weekends.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2618291057309857586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2618291057309857586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/oh-weekends.html' title='Oh Weekends...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-2349766243195522575</id><published>2010-09-08T06:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T06:20:00.507-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Wish I'd Known...</title><content type='html'>I was reading a blog the other day and it got me to thinking about how much easier my life would have been if I'd known then what I know now... oh to be able to know the future... of course, in many cases that ignorance is bliss. However, I decided to make a list of all the things I wish I'd known (ok, not all of them, but some of them).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. That guy is NOT the guy for you. Believe me, when you meet the guy for you nothing else in the world will matter but him and his happiness. You'll do everything in your power to make his dreams come true. And the even crazier part is he'll do the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;2. Yes, you do deserve him. He is a magnificent man and you deserve the best. Don't ever doubt that. He loves you no matter what- through thick and thin, happy days and awful ones... and one day he'll put his dreams on hold so you can live yours. That, my friend, is a true MAN... and that, my friend, is true love.&lt;br /&gt;3. You're not a cat person. Willow [cat I had growing up] has much to teach you, and when it's her time you need to let her go. She's done her job and you will not own another cat... you will, however, fall madly in love with two beautiful mini Dachshunds. Yes, dogs. I know, it doesn't seem possible... but it's true!&lt;br /&gt;4. It does not matter what others think. Let me repeat... it does not matter what others think. One day you will learn not to care. I promise you that life is so much easier when you just don't give a crap what others&amp;nbsp;think&amp;nbsp;about you.&lt;br /&gt;5. Things will not always be easy. Whatever you do, SAVE your money. [If only I'd known to keep every little penny the last year of my life would have been so much easier!]&lt;br /&gt;6. Things will not always be difficult. Just hold on, girl! You will make it. You will succeed. You will feel so much more triumphant and proud of yourself when you do... and, to top it off, you'll have an amazing husband &amp;nbsp;by your side the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;7. No one remembers high school. And the ones that do only do because they wish they were still there. Who cares what happened then? Move on. So will everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;8. Your best friends will still be your best friends in your mid twenties. No, seriously. They're amazing girls and they will stand by your side on your wedding day. Don't be mean. Don't be bossy. Don't ever let them doubt how much you care!&lt;br /&gt;9. Just love other people. Don't judge them. Love them with everything you've got to give. With all your heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-2349766243195522575?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2349766243195522575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/what-i-wish-id-known.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2349766243195522575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2349766243195522575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/what-i-wish-id-known.html' title='What I Wish I&apos;d Known...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-4217749021773435987</id><published>2010-09-06T14:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T14:21:16.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Spread the Word!!</title><content type='html'>Please spread the word. I've posted on &lt;a href="http://www.donorschoose.org/donors/proposal.html?id=430798&amp;amp;utm_source=dc&amp;amp;utm_campaign=facebook&amp;amp;utm_medium=projectpage"&gt;Donor's Choose . org&lt;/a&gt; and am trying to raise money for my class to have a listening station! Please take a look and help spread the word!&lt;br /&gt;Thanks so much!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/196/89795CD48FB5937258EEECCED2055EE6.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-4217749021773435987?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4217749021773435987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/please-spread-word.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4217749021773435987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/4217749021773435987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/please-spread-word.html' title='Please Spread the Word!!'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6882950137103601474</id><published>2010-09-06T05:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T05:21:00.624-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Labor Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TIPf8Y0rvsI/AAAAAAAABlI/k04IevQAIVE/s1600/september+3+2010+035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TIPf8Y0rvsI/AAAAAAAABlI/k04IevQAIVE/s320/september+3+2010+035.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TIPgJVNlUDI/AAAAAAAABlQ/RRMZVGGJF8g/s1600/september+3+2010+039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TIPgJVNlUDI/AAAAAAAABlQ/RRMZVGGJF8g/s320/september+3+2010+039.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TIPgQyrPHjI/AAAAAAAABlY/XBOzYutyHOw/s1600/september+3+2010+041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TIPgQyrPHjI/AAAAAAAABlY/XBOzYutyHOw/s320/september+3+2010+041.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TIPgaYBusCI/AAAAAAAABlg/0iR3sPkudv4/s1600/september+3+2010+036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TIPgaYBusCI/AAAAAAAABlg/0iR3sPkudv4/s320/september+3+2010+036.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6882950137103601474?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6882950137103601474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/happy-labor-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6882950137103601474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6882950137103601474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/happy-labor-day.html' title='Happy Labor Day!'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TIPf8Y0rvsI/AAAAAAAABlI/k04IevQAIVE/s72-c/september+3+2010+035.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-5693300364134210069</id><published>2010-09-05T19:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T19:11:46.834-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I know... I'm on my third one today...</title><content type='html'>But, I rarely post any more and I have some things on my mind. I was reading &lt;a href="http://www.notyouraverageteen.com/2010/09/to-worship-and-glorify.html?showComment=1283727729778_AIe9_BEWRe_nEw9veYJTjaADDupg-EAhuRTk9H6G0WJcrKyF6uRTcws6CQl0SNhK5yaW-wha8ODeqjK2ky3CcUltxUTNjoHDwANXttNNAqA-ztlxBK_0EdoSNSp1O2_QLrgNI7a4o3x0CruHIjje5QviYqhJVPi--4Cqqv9E5lsQm1_V5wIbPyzX1n5QCu12BTuvUQFwlzsU-vlZbf6k4czCgAm48pGN1WfvGu8C7xYWes3i0QwKRIFAcBR5VQ7Gixyhw_liDw9xC01MI3KA9k1oVSvJOIXqbGDU2msTneH1ZXDCpvcgvLqI-eOF0lxowBGeQq0H5QJHQyN0i2eRbLxzPazTiwk3_BLkrZxRITytYL-I-_uHWsexWfW_EWQfgRHzoL6Tdk8ZFaPBil410M7PjTYUJiOutmSqhWc_hSfvhyLGK3o2GioPWnZBHkXlbp6MZIVW8_yJ4TwekYbHopaSUeMtvmWn-1vq7i-TG0ZJOGOOsgiil70ltsaB1atfu_b051cJfGzCzlkNBU0KLA78uEVCB9_k33640dFLLY-Cu2vjDpe3DCBJ5Vflrw5dhg2m_bMXW8Y7x1rkcIpJWLN7napp7H4VOkVfVVld25zEMBIohc2QO16dRgtbhtz3DCdc5phgl41AtFua8U_55cNrJ3avMpffotnlEtHUB-vvI2-33AHJmt_kNYFn6H8a2mtiFCLP1XHHTlF02yOyS_fuWI8gybnkVPqiJNFK633bXSxcAf4cb7k-eLJo17zqPQc-WNDK2_Y5P0XNuoUcv_qVC4Ju4ComSGK0KBwn9xJf7ZmXpnbSKQP3IBNdm6pPnt_WyiRXyU6ebG_xYg8UNbdZhQWrY08tmpSs9Ewlrrfv09aY7jZGQNFZqqy8yzfQ3uRyO0SiAywL#c8637965254774072837"&gt;this blog&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and it just made me think about something that has been bothering me for a few weeks now. I can't really give specifics on the situation, but I am dealing with some people who make inappropriate comments to me. I am tired of it. I am tired of people being petty. I am tired of people thinking I'm dumb and don't know what I'm doing. I am tired of people making comments that they would be better off keeping to themselves. I was talking to a friend the other day about this person's comments and how it really bothers me and she put it so simply, "there will always be haters." Now, if that isn't a true statement I don't know what is. I am sick of people trying to get me down and I am pretty sure it all goes back to plain ol' jealousy. That's right. I said it. JEALOUSY. I am not a jealous person. I do not envy what others have because I know that I am a blessed person. I am blessed by the people in my life and by the life that God has blessed me with. I do not know this other person's trials nor does this other person know mine... yet, this person constantly makes comments like I am an idiot and like I just fell off the turnip truck. Now, I realize that part of this&amp;nbsp;stems&amp;nbsp;from cultural differences and that's fine, but I am growing very close to asking said person to keep their two cents to their self and leave me be.&lt;br /&gt;You know, no matter how hard you work, no matter what you do and with what sort of heart you do it with, there will always be people who think you think you're better than them, who think you're trying to show off, who think they know more (and, by golly, they're gonna point it out... and, of course, in front of others).&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm going to hold my head high, just like I tell my kids, and be the best teacher that I can be... who cares what others say- knock 'em dead and kill 'em with kindness!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/196/89795CD48FB5937258EEECCED2055EE6.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-5693300364134210069?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5693300364134210069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-know-im-on-my-third-one-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5693300364134210069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/5693300364134210069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-know-im-on-my-third-one-today.html' title='I know... I&apos;m on my third one today...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-2951081932936937568</id><published>2010-09-05T12:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T12:56:16.125-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Casting Crowns Praise You In The Storm</title><content type='html'>I am linking up to "Worship and Praise Sunday" at &lt;a href="http://shaemata.blogspot.com/"&gt;Following the Footsteps&lt;/a&gt;. Go see her page! What an awesome song that she's sharing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chose to share this song because it is one that touches my heart and reminds me daily to praise God even when the storm is bad! He is the God of all things and I am to praise Him in good times and bad. I try to be thankful to Him for everything... even&amp;nbsp;problems&amp;nbsp;and bad days...&amp;nbsp;after all, it is those days that help me to appreciate all of the blessings in my life!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" style="background-image: url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/uHdcyue0bSw/hqdefault.jpg);" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uHdcyue0bSw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uHdcyue0bSw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-2951081932936937568?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2951081932936937568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/casting-crowns-praise-you-in-storm.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2951081932936937568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/2951081932936937568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/casting-crowns-praise-you-in-storm.html' title='Casting Crowns Praise You In The Storm'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-844428282574144777</id><published>2010-09-05T08:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T08:51:25.618-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Things...</title><content type='html'>and then I really do have to get to work on my endless list of things to do today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went shopping with a new friend. I had a great time and hope we get together again sometime soon. She's a fellow teacher at my school and has really made my transition into this whole thing called the "working world" a little easier. Anyhow, we went in to PetSmart and they were having an adoption day there. Awww... all of those sweet doggies. I felt so bad for them. I hope that they all find their forever homes very soon. I found 2 that I would have taken home in a heartbeat if I could have. We just really cannot afford any more &lt;s&gt;pets&lt;/s&gt;&amp;nbsp;family members and Milly and Shelby do not react well to other animals in their space. So, I left feeling a little sad. One of them was a long haired standard doxie. He was so beautiful and calm. He was 6 years old and has heart worms. That made me so sad. Something so easily preventable... I won't get started on that soap box today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is that I finally realized yesterday that it is true- things are never greener on the other side. I am not in any way trying to be a&amp;nbsp;pessimist. I am simply stating how I see things. Life is hard. Life is busy. Life is, in my case, just a constant flow of "if it's not one things it's another"s. I know that sounds awful. I hate that it sounds awful. I am just having a hard time being all grown up. How pathetic is that? I told Jake yesterday that I feel like I am working my butt off, have nothing to show for, and all (literally all) of my money is going to bills. Jake says, "Well, this is the real world and we're adults now. That's just how it is." Well, I thought to myself, that sucks. hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am working very hard at school. I am working just so unbelievably hard. I don't have time for hardly anything else. I am constantly thinking of&amp;nbsp;things&amp;nbsp;to do and ways to improve my teaching. I am already starting to feel burnt out. That, my friends, is not good. We haven't even been in school for a month. I decided that after I get my long range plans finished (and for those of you who don't teach this is basically a semi-detailed plan for the entire year) I am going to take a break. No more school stuff all day long on the weekends once that is finished. I just cannot do school 24-7. I am worn out. So, I am thinking I'll at least try to take off one day a weekend. I know both is impossible. So, I am aiming for one and, who knows, maybe I'll get to the point where I can just go home on Friday afternoon and enjoy the weekend. We shall see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/196/89795CD48FB5937258EEECCED2055EE6.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-844428282574144777?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/844428282574144777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/few-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/844428282574144777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/844428282574144777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/few-things.html' title='A Few Things...'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-3344874163682165338</id><published>2010-09-04T19:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T19:58:30.327-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To Molly's Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;I saw this at this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.recover-from-grief.com/loss-of-a-pet-poem.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;site&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt; and wanted to share it with others, and especially &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://thedivinemissmolly.blogspot.com/2010/09/mollys-momma-again.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;Molly's Mom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt; in this difficult time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #435616;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #435616;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;TREASURED FRIEND&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;I lost a treasured friend today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;The little dog who used to lay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;Her gentle head upon my knee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;And shared her silent thoughts with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;She’ll come no longer to my call&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;Retrieve no more her favourite ball&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;A voice far greater than my own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;Has called her to his golden throne.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;Although my eyes are filled with tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;I thank him for the happy years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;He let her spend down here with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;And for her love and loyalty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;When it is time for me to go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;And join her there, this much I know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;I shall not fear the transient dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;For she will greet me with a bark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ~Author Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;You are in my thoughts and prayers.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/196/89795CD48FB5937258EEECCED2055EE6.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-3344874163682165338?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3344874163682165338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/to-mollys-mom.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3344874163682165338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/3344874163682165338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/to-mollys-mom.html' title='To Molly&apos;s Mom'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-6116726567814508733</id><published>2010-08-28T18:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T18:31:10.370-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Weekend In Charleston</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Charleston yesterday after work to visit my best friend. We had a BLAST! We went to this place called Bottles and Brushes. You pay a fee and they provide all the things you need as well as the teacher who goes step by step for us to create a "masterpiece". It was so much fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/THmMzXZY1WI/AAAAAAAABjQ/tQQvnqrjq-k/s1600/august+28+2010+055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/THmMzXZY1WI/AAAAAAAABjQ/tQQvnqrjq-k/s320/august+28+2010+055.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Here I am... ready to go. Apron on and everything provided... count me in!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/THmMr1XsSzI/AAAAAAAABjI/30s5RxIKJiM/s1600/august+28+2010+054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/THmMr1XsSzI/AAAAAAAABjI/30s5RxIKJiM/s320/august+28+2010+054.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Here's Katie... she was excited and ready to go, too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/THmMdEmUYtI/AAAAAAAABi4/mFv5SU7FTng/s1600/august+28+2010+067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/THmMdEmUYtI/AAAAAAAABi4/mFv5SU7FTng/s320/august+28+2010+067.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We were so excited about our final masterpieces that we had someone take our pictures with them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/THmMkhwAX5I/AAAAAAAABjA/cpohwtg_K48/s1600/august+28+2010+065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/THmMkhwAX5I/AAAAAAAABjA/cpohwtg_K48/s320/august+28+2010+065.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Here's a view of mine closer- up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Sometimes it is nice to just get away for the night and have some time with a best friend just talking and laughing. It was so great to see Katie! We talk almost every day, but we both have very busy lives so we do not get to see each other very much. It's so nice when we do, though!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/196/89795CD48FB5937258EEECCED2055EE6.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Of course, another great part of being gone is coming home. My sweet MilShelb were so happy to see me! :) I missed them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-6116726567814508733?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6116726567814508733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/08/weekend-in-charleston.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6116726567814508733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/6116726567814508733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/08/weekend-in-charleston.html' title='A Weekend In Charleston'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/THmMzXZY1WI/AAAAAAAABjQ/tQQvnqrjq-k/s72-c/august+28+2010+055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-302282611286538185.post-406355660438184751</id><published>2010-08-25T07:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T07:39:00.178-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TD5KkfGZdYI/AAAAAAAABWg/TfwD3uE4Nwo/s1600/july132010+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TD5KkfGZdYI/AAAAAAAABWg/TfwD3uE4Nwo/s320/july132010+023.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/302282611286538185-406355660438184751?l=milshelbmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/feeds/406355660438184751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/08/wordless-wednesday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/406355660438184751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/302282611286538185/posts/default/406355660438184751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milshelbmom.blogspot.com/2010/08/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>A MilShelb Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13770728487605353254</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/SzwN8CMCcbI/AAAAAAAAAEc/itp7JPXOL34/S220/wedding+004.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSXMmEnAsi0/TD5KkfGZdYI/AAAAAAAABWg/TfwD3uE4Nwo/s72-c/july132010+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
