tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53397096410212756512024-03-18T20:35:33.488-07:00The Mommy lifeA blog dedicated to my life as a mother, my daughters, my husband and everything in between.
Please jump on my train and follow me belowMY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-51843092878251216102015-09-19T22:13:00.001-07:002015-09-19T22:14:04.909-07:00Summer 2015 kicked my ass<span style="font-size: x-large;">The last time I blogged I was complaining. Complaining about my Camping Catastrophe and my back. Well, I can officially say neither has gotten better. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We did decided to go camping again. Camping take 2. Even my 5 year old was skeptical, "We are going camping again? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I had wonderful memories when I was a child. Every year we would go. I loved it. I want my kids to love it too. I was bound to make this time different. We were set, we bought a new tent, two new air mattresses (because the last ones deflated) and we were off. The weather was not great. It was cloudy rainy and cold. Really? Why me? Cant it just be sunny? UGH!!! I was irked already. But never the less we were going. I was gonna make this happen. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We were getting ready to go, I was going to have a shower before we left and I bent down to turn on the tap for the tub and my back went out. I felt something twang and I hit my knees. I couldn't believe it. Honestly!! I was set that this trip would be different. I was going to be fine. The last time we went camping the air mattresses deflated and I got a pinched nerve in my back from sleeping on the ground. Now my back is out again? I immediately went to the chiropractor before we left. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I wish I could say that it helped. Maybe it did a little bit. But in the end, I was back to walking bent to the side and not being able to walk far distances. Great!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We got to our campsite and it was raining. We went to the local Canadian Tire for an air pump for the air mattresses because of course we forgot that. I bought one and up to the campsite we went. When the tent was up and the air mattresses ready to be inflated what do we find.... That the pump is electrical, not for the car. All I can think is.... UNBELIEVABLE!!! So after much bitching about the air pump we finally have an idea and my husband walks to the bathrooms where they have a plug in and inflates them there and carries the air mattresses back to the campsite. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Ok, we are ready to camp. Everything went great. We had a wonderful night. I get in the tent and...... one air mattress is losing air. MOTHER #$#$%#$% I cannot believe it. These are brand new!! What the hell. Ok, so the kids weigh less, they can sleep on one together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It was cold that night. To say cold is an understatement, we could see our breath. Thankfully we had my mothers down comforters and even if it snowed we would have been warm in those babies. But I was worried about the kids all night. Did they kick the blankets off, are they covered? Not a peaceful sleep I will tell you that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">In the morning.......... I could feel the ground. Unreal. Again.. Really? I cant say I was too surprised. Mighty pissed off, but not surprised. I had to get up and go to the bathroom, but with my back completely eff'd up, I couldn't walk there, not even if I tried. I could walk a short distance and was in massive pain. I had to start the car and drive to the bathrooms. Great camping trip hey?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am not sure if this summer decided to kick the Pajaro's asses but it did everything in its power to do so. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have a work phone. I take calls on the weekend. I forgot the phone at home.........</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What now? God dammit. Do I drive back to the house for the phone? Do I leave it? (I cant leave it) Its an hour and a half at best back to the house. Thank goodness we were close. I decided, I was going to go back. My husband and kids will stay at the beach for the day, but I will take the 3 hour round trip and go get that goddamn phone. Nobody was happy. But I did pick up the foot pump for the air mattress.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My parents came out to the beach that day. They stayed with the girls and they had a good time. I feel bad I missed out. My mom suggested that maybe she will take the girls back to the city for the night and me and my husband can have a night alone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I thought about it. I really wanted this to be a great family camping trip. But lets really look at it here. Its cold, the air mattresses deflated AGAIN and its tough watching two little girls around a campfire. This is no relaxing outing. So, I agreed. Yup, take the girls for the night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Going back to the campground we decided to pump up both air mattresses. I thought, we will be smart, we will stack them one on top of another. This way, if one deflates a little and same with the other one, we can still be off the ground a little. Well, around 2am my husband decides he has to pee. AND pump up the deflating air mattresses. So as I sit beside the bed, on the cold bottom of the tent he pumps up these crappy god damn air mattresses. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Air mattresses FLAT AS A BOARD!!!! Both of them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">To say I was mad is an understatement. Fuck these god damn things. Thats what I was thinking. I was not preparing anything for breakfast, lets get this shit in the car because once again I AM DONE!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">That was it, we camped twice and it bombed twice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">That is when I really thought about it. I will not do this again. My mind was set, we will get a trailer. Not a tent trailer, I didnt want anything to set up, we had already been through two set ups in the rain. I didnt want anything that would leak to the touch, I wanted to be dry I thought about it alot. And this is where my hunt for the Boler began..</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It has been a long hunt for me. Everyday looking for a trailer small enough to pull behind an suv and light. I want a 13 ft trailer. Small!!! All it needs to have in it really is the bed for me and my husband and the two bunk beds for my girls. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I will tell you. This started off as a fun hunt. I was excited. I was ready. Lets do this. BOLER!!!! eeeeeeee</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Its been almost two months. 10+ trailers down, probably 200km+ driving to look at said trailers and still nothing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is amazing how when it comes down to it you really see a lot of junk. I have seen some real piece of shit trailers. I would bring my father along, I didnt know what I was looking for. But now, I think I can officially say that I now know what I am looking for. The last Boler I looked at I was crawling around the garage floor looking under it with a flash light. I am sure the guy thought I was crazy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The hunt for the right trailer is a hard one. I want one for my family. I want something small because it is not somewhere I envision us spending alot of time. Lets call it a glorified tent. I dont want to hang out it in. That is what your chairs outside are for. If it rains yes we will have somewhere to go but other than that it will be a place to sleep only. Bolers are cute, but they are also old. I want one not because I want to restore it, or because they are a fad, they are maybe 1000lbs and that is nothing to pull behind your vehicle. Perfect!! If only I can find the perfect one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Problem is, there are many people looking for these small trailers to restore. So if you do not get there fast enough, you are out of luck. I have been driving my father crazy taking him to trailer after trailer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I will not go through the camping hell again. Next time we will be dry, warm and comfortable. I will make these trips wonderful for my family. Just need to find the right one. I hope it comes soon. I am tired of looking. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is what a Boler looks like. Cute yes. Practical yes. Perfect for me and my family? Hell yes!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is a Trillium, just like a Boler. This is one I looked at. But it just wasnt the one :(</span></div>
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MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-85361369599637302792015-08-02T22:32:00.002-07:002015-08-02T22:36:31.049-07:00What a pain in the.... Back?<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It has been 10 days since my last post. I haven't had the urge to write at all. I even wondered, am I done with blogging? I just haven't been in the mood. Today I thought about it as I usually do every night and it hit me. I do have something to write about. Something that has been bugging me since my last post. Back pain!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now those who read my blog know I hurt my back sleeping on the ground during the worst camping trip ever. You can read that <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/07/camping-catastrophe.html" target="_blank">here</a>. I seen a chiropractor since than and discovered I have a pinched nerve. With a few treatments I was good as new. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is amazing how bad I felt walking into his clinic. I was literally standing crooked. The first time I felt back pain was a year ago. I was putting my baby into her crib and I felt something go snap! That took me out for awhile. I never got treatment for it. I just lived with it until it went away. It came back a few week before the camping trip. While laying in bed I moved and snap, there it went again. Not as bad as the first time, but it was bothering me. It wasn't until I went camping that I really hurt it. A pinched nerve. It is amazing how much it hurts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The chiropractor scares me. Always has. When I was younger my cousins friend died at a chiropractor. It has never left my mind. But I was in pain. Lots! I spoke to my boss and she was recommended me to go to her chiropractor. She did tell me that she no longer gets her neck adjusted. She said, she started fainting while she was walking. She fainted in the mall once. After a long talk with her Dr she mentioned that she gets her neck adjusted by a chiropractor. He said that this was exactly the cause of her fainting. That in the adjustment of her neck it was breaking blood vessels and she was losing blood flow to her brain. They do grow back but this is what was happening. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I will not say I was not a little horrified listening to it. Jesus Christ! This is exactly why I don't want to do this kind of shit. Being a person who is on medication for anxiety, this isn't what I wanted to hear. But from that moment on, I decided, no neck adjustments! Just that night my cousin and I spoke. I told her about my back pain and how I was going to a chiropractor. She immediately told me no, and reminded me about her friend who died. Um.... I wont lie.... Yup, I was scared now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">However, I went. I was in pain. Lots and lots. I couldn't do anything without feeling the pain. Nothing would take it away. He made a note in my file, no neck adjustments. I seen him twice. After the second time. I felt right as rain. I felt as though I never ever had back pain before. I felt FANTASTIC. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This feeling lasted for about two weeks. It wasn't until this Friday night I woke up in the middle of the night and could feel my back starting to hurt. Nooooooooo I really didn't want this pain back. I knew he told me, you will need to come back 2-3 times a week. And with no coverage at $50 a visit, that wasn't happening. But I guess that is what brought me here. And even with this back pain here again, I can still will not pay $150 a week for a chiropractor. With that being said... I can not wait for Monday so I can call him and make an appointment as quick as possible. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is amazing how fast it can take you out. I walk like I am 80 years old. There is a burning pinching feeling in my back almost all the time. It feels good to lay down. But god help me when I get up. I didn't think it would come back so quick. Damn. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am starting to think that it is time for core strengthening. Yoga perhaps. I took my daughters to the beach today and I could hardly do anything with them. It hurt to sit on the sand and make sand castles. I looked forward to it. I wanted to have fun with them. I was hoping to play in the water. But it only felt comfortable to sit. I felt pathetic. I am glad that their Grandparents and their Daddy were there to play with them. All in all it was a wonderful day. But this back pain is becoming a real bitch. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">It makes me think.... Do I want to feel this way as I get older? I am 36 years old. It is not too old to start taking care of myself. It is time. I want to be healthy for my kids so we are eating better. Not only do I need to lose some weight, but I also obviously need some core strengthening. I hate to exercise. The thought of it makes me sad. But it is like anything, you need to get in the routine and it isn't so bad. I guess, we will see how it goes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">"Back pain is youth leaving the body"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you read my last post Camping Catastrophe?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Click <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/07/camping-catastrophe.html" target="_blank">here</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span>
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</script><br />MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-10029950681733614102015-07-23T20:53:00.001-07:002015-07-23T20:55:43.641-07:00Weight loss woes Week 2<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now I should own up right away and admit that I was too tired to do a week 1. But I am into week 2, we had our second weigh in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have to admit that it wasn't too hard of a week. I made it routine. I would have my spinach shake for breakfast. Now it doesn't sound good, but damn, it is!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I take,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">1 cup of skim milk</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">A handful of spinach</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">1 frozen strawberry</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">1 frozen cut up banana</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">5 frozen blueberries </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Dollop of Natural Peanut butter</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Blend. DELICIOUS!!! Its 4 weight watchers points plus. That's like nothing lol</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So that is what I was eating for breakfast. For lunch I would take 1.5 cups of cottage cheese and a tub of veggies. I love love love cottage cheese so I ate that up like a piggy. The veggies are good too. As long as they are fresh. I have been alternating between tuna with no fat mayo on a rice cake. Its actually darn good. But I love the cottage cheese more. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So the first weigh in went fantastic! I lost 6 lbs!!!! I was super happy. Only 589 to go. Ok, not really, but that's what it feels like right? Even with one day of a splurge night I lost 6lbs. Happy as can be. Dinner time is a little tricky. It is the time of night when you come home and you feel like you can eat a dinosaur. I have had to keep my will power super strong for these moments. If not, anything that is remotely edible and tastes ok I will gorge. This includes soda crackers. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I knew I was having a weak moment the first week when we were all eating dinner. I had finished mine. I was sitting at the table with my daughters watching them like a hawk eating their corn on the cob. Maybe one of them wont finish it... Maybe they will not want it anymore... Yes, I was like a vulture ready to jump. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoxLtpXd4gNmj9wX3BYdkWqn48MOzuv3tKh3BySuEpXmzMKi5f9vziyYO8XyDYq8tsCuSLKZZJVIKGYSfkLaJC1o3LPkQ0j_lBozQk5FwsuQF7kBjr8zesyp-qEngy0w7Ds-e1kTtwAqA/s1600/MjAxMi03MjE1ODc1MjhjNGEyMzli.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoxLtpXd4gNmj9wX3BYdkWqn48MOzuv3tKh3BySuEpXmzMKi5f9vziyYO8XyDYq8tsCuSLKZZJVIKGYSfkLaJC1o3LPkQ0j_lBozQk5FwsuQF7kBjr8zesyp-qEngy0w7Ds-e1kTtwAqA/s640/MjAxMi03MjE1ODc1MjhjNGEyMzli.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I thought the second week would go just as easy peesy. No such luck. We weigh in on Wednesdays, we were going camping on the Friday. I was ready, I had snacks for us, fruit, healthy food for us to eat. I even bought turkey smokies and we were set. Unfortunately our camping trip didn't go as planned. When we got to the campground to set up the tent it was a mad dash to set it up before it rained. No dice, we didn't make it. It POURED! Thunder and lightning.... just perfect. So while we all were huddled in the car waiting for the storm to pass and the girls say... "Were hungry"!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So what to do what to do? We absolutely cannot make lunch, it is torrential rains out there. Down the road is a golf club café. We drove down there and made it in all a little wet. I look up and I see nothing but fried food and burgers. Just our luck hey. I am starving too. I look at my husband... Great! What now? So, in lei of it being our "Holiday" we decided, ok, lets just eat. There is really honestly nothing we can do about it right now. So, we enjoyed our burgers</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Camping did not go well for us. We found out that one air mattress didn't have plugs and only 3 out of 4 could sleep on the inflated air mattress. In the morning the second air mattress was losing air. Long story short, we packed up this shit show and left IMMEDIATELY first thing in the am. We got our refund and we headed out. The girls were not happy, they were hoping for a nice day at the beach. After sleeping on the ground, I was in awful shape and there was no way I was able to sit at the beach all day and play in the water. We headed home and decided to go out for breakfast. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">This week was turning out to not be the healthiest week for us. We did not eat great. I mean, we did, it was awesome, but.... We did not eat properly. It was weigh in day yesterday. My husband said "Lets just skip it, we know we gained weight, we ate so bad, so screw it, lets skip it". I will not lie, I thought about it. But that is how we fell of track last time. We thought we could just be bad and skip the weigh in. Nope, not this time. Time to face the music my dear, we are going. It turned out not so bad. Out of the 6lbs I lost I gained back 1.2 of them. I would have rather lost weight of course, but I know I ate bad this week. And gaining only 1.2 back, still a win in my books.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcV-Zva3U-B3HBg3nW61gbQ7lbCtWKWm3TGkysZGVknagFVy_ojG-ry7fXQhDzNwjhXn5xZEMIqB26eKPeZ1qJxE82qdiVl5_Or6oSnDk1ivjnyFP7Ef5rVtIhX5TnxykA98xIbM_4hao/s1600/355b5eb875f906cae5782866f81baeea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcV-Zva3U-B3HBg3nW61gbQ7lbCtWKWm3TGkysZGVknagFVy_ojG-ry7fXQhDzNwjhXn5xZEMIqB26eKPeZ1qJxE82qdiVl5_Or6oSnDk1ivjnyFP7Ef5rVtIhX5TnxykA98xIbM_4hao/s640/355b5eb875f906cae5782866f81baeea.jpg" width="484" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am on course again. Bad trip behind us, bad eating behind us. I have been on track all week. Lets hope that when Wednesday comes around again there is a little more loss and no more gain. I will keep myself in check! With that woman at the scale and with all who read this. Back to the healthy food. Wish me luck for week 3 :)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you read my last post, Camping Catastrophe? Click </span><a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/07/camping-catastrophe.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-large;">HERE</span></a><br />
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MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-10849489936867194192015-07-19T21:54:00.000-07:002015-07-19T22:02:15.475-07:00Camping Catastrophe<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My husband suggested lets go camping! I thought, what a great idea. We have never taken our girls, 5 & 2 camping before. Lets do this! The only camping site available at the short notice was a walk in campsite. It said 100 meters. He wanted to go.... I called him and said this is the only one available. He says book it so it is now booked and we are ready. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is not easy getting ready for camping. There are a lot of things to prepare. It is amazing what goes into going camping for 2 nights. The vehicle was packed!!! I haven't been camping in years. I borrowed a tent from my parents, borrowed the air mattress. I was pretty sure we had everything. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The weather the day we left was not good. The forecast said it would rain off and on throughout the day, between 2-6pm there would be a window of just cloudiness. What can I say... It lied!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We got there and it wasn't raining. It looked cloudy, but no rain is great! We got to the campsite. I never expected this when we got there. I really imagined a walk in campsite, we walk just a bit and there it is. What do I see when we get there..... A HILL!! We have to walk up a HILL!!!!! I mean, come on. I was ok with lugging all our stuff out of the car and back and fourth but now, carrying it all up a hill. God dammit!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So we walk up to survey this site. It better be good is all I am thinking. We walk up the damn hill and when I get there I can not believe it again.... Good lord it is like a parking lot. We may as well set up in the parking lot. There are no trees, no separation between sites. It is by far the worst campsite I have seen. I am used to camping in a spot where you are somewhat separated from your neighbors, not so close you could eat dinner with them. I was super unhappy. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEb1xN_UjsC6x03mtOzjPqXAlt97TQAvCk5yLOFrGARJ1l_ohn7kh2o4eu-aB8Gy70RuEFgOW3tAucCAGY8uZqQzBdk2bJJpdHXqtMLAFP8dwWBzfabC8lLyJCngSMsLSVbzujT5g5wj4/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEb1xN_UjsC6x03mtOzjPqXAlt97TQAvCk5yLOFrGARJ1l_ohn7kh2o4eu-aB8Gy70RuEFgOW3tAucCAGY8uZqQzBdk2bJJpdHXqtMLAFP8dwWBzfabC8lLyJCngSMsLSVbzujT5g5wj4/s640/unnamed.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">But this is what my husband wanted, he wanted to come camping. I will not lie, he was NOT happy. He didn't want to stay. I thought, ok, come on, how bad can it be. I mean, we packed up the car, we spent money on things for this trip we are here vehicle loaded. We decided to stay. We brought the tent up and had our dog and the girls running around while we set up the tent. It had been years since I set up a tent, and this isn't a tent I had ever set up before. Meanwhile I hear thunder, I tell my husband, we need to hurry up, its going to storm and we have the tent half up. I can see through the trees that the clouds are dark. All I can think is Jesus we better hurry up. I hear thunder again. So the tent isn't up all the way, I know we did something wrong with the poles, it looks funny. But the clouds are closer now. There is nothing we can do at the moment. Thank goodness we had a big tarp, we threw that over the tent and pegged it down as fast as we could. He had brought up quite a few things while I was trying to get the tent up so those were thrown in the tent and we bailed. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The clouds were almost overhead now, it was dark there was thunder, I was yelling at them to hurry down the hill. We got to the car and in went the girls and the second my husband shut his door it started to POUR!! It was quite the storm. I really didn't think it would rain so much. It was like torrential rain. There was a river coming down the parking lot. Just thinking about it now pisses me off. We sat there for awhile.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Two little girls can only sit in a car so long before the boredom sets in. They were not happy. They were starting to fight, the little one was crying. We decided, we could sit here and listen to this or we can drive across the road to the golf course café and have lunch since we obviously cannot in the rain. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">It seemed that after lunch the rain had stopped. I was elated. The puddles outside were no longer collecting raindrops. We packed up and were ready to go back to the tent. The second we got out of the café, it started raining. Not a lot, not like before, but enough. We went back anyways. We sat in the car and contemplated.... Do we leave? My husband wanted to go. Lets go to Calgary he said. Calgary huh.... What about the soaking wet tent we have sitting up there. I wont lie, I thought about it, I even thought, how much is a stupid tent, we could just drive away and leave the damn thing. But then I remembered, we have stuff in it too. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Dammit!! Ok, this was gonna work. I will make this work, it wont rain tomorrow, the sun will be out, we will have a good camping trip! There was a camp shelter with picnic tables and a wood stove inside by our campsite. We walked up the hill and my husband and the girls went into the shelter to stay dry and he was going to start a fire to warm them up. I stayed out in the rain to fix the tent, get it set up property and all pegged down right and to fix the tarp. I looked inside the tent. I couldn't even believe my eyes. There was pools of water inside both front corners. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I brought ONE towel for the girls to share at the beach tomorrow. My husband is gonna lose it..... I sat inside the tent and I figured ok, I am still going to make this work, we will have a good camping trip. I got our coffee cups and started bailing water out of the tent. I got most of it out and used the towel to mop the rest up. Ok, NOW I can start on the air mattress'. I got one set up. Unrolled the other one and I was speechless. This one wasn't like the other air mattress, this one was an OLD one. It was one that needed plugs. I didn't have plugs. We had one air mattress for the four of us. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">My husband said that's it. Lets go. But now, we had even more stuff up here, almost all of it. And the air mattress up. I got them all in the tent and made them all lay on the air mattress. 3 will fit. Only 3.... So who sleeps on the ground in a sleeping bag.... Well, I know for damn sure if my husband does we will not hear the end of it. I would rather die than hear him whine. So... I took the ground. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The dog is usually a good listener. Out here, running free he was like "as if I am listening to you". I brought out the leash, and wouldn't you know it. I forgot his collar, so nothing to hook the leash to. Unreal!!! How is this happening to me? The girls are complaining they are hungry and cold. My husband, straight from Italy has camped twice in his life. Does he know how to start a campfire? Not really.... Does he know how to start a campfire with wet wood? Absolutely not. So when I was done with the tent, absolutely soaked through, I started on the fire.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I was almost done with the dog. I forgot he was running around many times to be honest. I was trying to start a fire, I was cold, wet and had two little girls who were bored and stuck in a shelter being bad. This sure wasn't what I had envisioned when I drove out here. I got that fire started, We got warm. They got hungry. So I hauled everything out for dinner and sat at the picnic table and made everyone dinner. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">We forgot 3 essential things this camping trip</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Air mattress plugs</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Dog collar</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Salt!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">After dinner it stopped raining. My daughter helped me with dishes and we decided to go to our campsite and make a fire. What a pain in the ass a campfire is with wet wood. Thank goodness my parents took us camping every year of my life as a child and I had made a fire many times or we would have been hooped for a fire. We were finally set to relax. Everything was good, the sun even came out. We made popcorn over the fire and I started thinking, this is going to be ok. We are going to have a good time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Bedtime. Getting the girls to bed isn't a huge problem. Of course for little girls especially at 2 they are talkative and wanting to play so bedtime doesn't happen immediately for little ones. I cant deny I was uncomfortable from the start. The ground is hard dammit. I was worried for the girls, their hair was still damp and I didn't want them to be cold sleeping. It took about an hour and the baby fell asleep, her sister wasn't far behind. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I started to get cold, really cold!!! To the point I was almost shaking. But lets face it, there was 3 on the bed and dog, there was no room for another. I contemplated going to sleep in the car. But what if some crazy came and knocked on the door while I was there, anxiety me thought of the worst and that idea was out. I wrapped myself up in the sleeping bag as best as I could. I pulled my back and it has been hurting for the last while so laying on my back was out. Laying on my side hurt so bad on my hips. I tried to sleep, oh how I tried. I am sure I laid there a good 4 hours. I fell of and on asleep. I felt their air mattress. It wasn't what it should be, theirs was deflating. The weight of my husband on one side lifted the mattress and the baby was sliding into her sister. Our 5 yr old would wake up and cry to me that she didn't want to be in the middle. Well.... I didn't want to be on the ground. There was nothing I can do at the moment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I told my husband how awful I felt. He said lets switch. But I knew the level of complaining. No switch. He wanted to go home, he was ready to pack up at midnight and go home. But now? In the pitch black? I dont think so. With the girls asleep we had to ride this out. To top it off there was two couples camping two spots away, so basically right beside us. They were drinking and having a good time. Great! I get it. Camping, its fun, I have been there. But tonight... After the day I had. Listening to them so loud, talking about the stupidest stuff, laughing like there was nobody else in the campground. Am I getting old? Damn rights, I am a mom of two and I went through a shit day, now I am TRYING to sleep on the cold ground meanwhile listening to these people laugh it up and make tons of nosie. I had it, I got up, 2am and walked over to their site. Needless to say after that I didn't hear what they were saying anymore. Finally!! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The night was long, the night was cold, the night was EXTREMELY awful. I had the worst sleep ever and woke up almost not being able to move. They woke up an their air mattress was deflating. I mean this was it, this was the clincher for me. I was done. I wanted to go home. There was no second night in the cards. We couldn't all sleep on the ground. No way! We got up, I thought about it lots. Should we stay the day? The beach for the girls, its going to be a nice day. But... I could hardly walk. My poor back. OMG I was in pain. The ground almost killed me. The beach was out. I felt so bad for them. This was not the camping trip I envisioned for my family. We packed up faster than I can even say, everything was down with a blink of an eye. We really had it. Before anyone else in that campground even was awake we were packed up and ready to go. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Hands down, worst campsite I have ever been to. Worst night of camping I have ever had. Will we laugh about it? Maybe one day. But not anytime soon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you read my last post </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Talking with spirits, my story? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Click <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/07/talking-with-spirits-do-you-believe.html" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></div>
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</script><br />MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-58165447200859452062015-07-13T22:28:00.004-07:002015-07-14T12:52:25.343-07:00Talking with spirits. Do you believe?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Mediums, psychics, Palm readers. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to know the truth. Is there a special gift. Are these people on tv actors who pretend? Or, are there really a select few that really have this gift? My thoughts banked on the latter. I had no proof however. I did not know a real psychic or medium, so finding out was pretty much out of the cards for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Psychic fairs, the run of the mill palm reader... I wasn't buying it. I still don't. I truly believe if you have this gift you are not rolling with the psychic fairs. So, needless to say my money was never spent at these venues. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I love watching Long Island Medium. Theresa Caputo is amazing! I have wished to meet her one day, but I am sure do does half of the world. On her website it said she was booking 2 years in advance. I emailed, I never got a reply. I kind of gave up on the idea. It seemed not overly possible and really, she was the only one I believed in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">To give a little backround info, my husband is of Italian decent. Both his parents passed away before we met. We met online and 6 years ago he moved here to Canada to be with me. We were married the following year and have two daughters aged 2 & 5. When he talked about his parents it was clear he was a mama's boy. I think what Italian boy isn't? But I know from the way he spoke about her, she and him were extremely close. I could see in his eyes, in his emotions he was..... a little broken inside. There were times he would talk as parents passing and I myself would cry just listening. I always thought to IF I ever had the chance to book a reading with a medium, I would do it, I would pay whatever it was, for him... It was all for him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">He never believed. He never had the same enthusiasm I did when I watched the shows. I was enthralled and he was a skeptic if you will. My husband is an atheist to the nth degree and talk about heaven and spirits, well, he wasn't buyin it. I didn't try to convince him. He believes what he believes as do I. Do I believe in an actual heaven with god? No. But I do believe there is an afterlife, not that I think it is in the clouds with fluffy clouds and pearly white gates, but I fully believe in spirits around you. My husband, does not. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I always kept my eyes open. Meeting Theresa Caputo was kinda out of the cards for me so I just hoped one day something would happen. I was on a buy and sell site on Facebook one day and I saw a conversation about psychics and mediums. I scrolled through the comments and saw a bunch of names. One comment in particular struck me. Carmel Baird, she lives in Edmonton, she has the show Moms a Medium.. I really thought.... WHAT?? That is like living in the same city as Theresa Caputo. THIS was possible. I made the call immediately. I booked the appointment. I was hesitant. We do not have money to just throw around. And.... what if, what if this is a point where we are basically throwing our money away.... My Husband is gonna kill me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I wont deny he was NOT happy I booked this appointment. Even less happy with the price. I lied to him a little to soften the blow, but I fessed up and let him know how much I had spent. The good thing about him is, in all honesty, if it makes me happy, he in the end, is ok with whatever I do. This does not mean he was happy with it, but he knew I was doing it for him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Our appointment was 6 months away. I could hardly wait. Would it be worth it, would I have wasted my money. What would she say....</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I watched her shows in anticipation, I made my husband watch her shows. When the time came we got a call three days before the appointment. They had to reschedule. I was crushed. I waited so long for this. I was dying with excitement. So, I waited. Another two months went by. Near the next appointment we got another call. They had to reschedule again. AGAIN?!?!?! I was shocked to say the least. I was building myself up to it again only to be disappointed. God dammit! So, we were to rebook for this July, 2015. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The phone rang on the Friday, we had the appointment on a Monday. I knew it, without even knowing the number I just knew. I picked up the phone and not a hello, not a hi, I said, please don't reschedule. She told me Carmel was sick and she needed to take some time to rest. She said we could take a phone call reading instead of meeting her in person. I cried!! I mean, how could this be happening? I waited for so long, I paid so much money. I want what I paid for. She explained that we could rebook but it would be into late November of 2015 and than there are no guarantees of her being well. I let them know I would call them back.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I had to tell my husband..... I didn't want to. Not again, not for a third time. I was trying to get him to believe with me, and this is happening. I started to feel like we were being taken for a ride. A phone call? How is that supposed to work? He was furious! I am sure I ruined his day when I spoke to him. He said absolutely no phone calls. He wanted his money back. He wanted me to call back, cancel everything and get the money back immediately. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I made the call. I cried some more. I told her how I didn't want the phone call. I was so upset. BUT... I was not cancelling this. I waited too long and I wanted it!! I wanted it for him. This was happening. I spoke to her about the phone call. She assured me, when she started working for Carmel she was a skeptic, Carmel changed that for her. She told me that many skeptics prefer a phone call as than the person cannot read your body language and such, the things that skeptics feel a person reads while being in your presence. She told me Carmel does readings for people all over the world via phone. It is the exact same thing you are just not there in person.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Ok... I was in. I wasn't fully convinced. I was set on meeting her. I figured you had to meet someone to do this. How am I supposed to know. I mean really. But I said ok. Monday it is, you will call us and we will be there. 10am. Now.... To tell my Husband again. When I did, he was obviously not happy. He said no phone calls, he said to get our money back, but...... I was doing this, for him and I wasn't taking no for an answer. I told him, what they explained to me on the phone, and we both waited for Monday to come. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have to admit, I was a little off put by the whole thing. A phone call.... please! But 9am we took our children to Grandmas, got ourselves some healthy McDonalds breakfast and waited for that phone call. I was so nervous. But oh man I was excited. What would happen? Would we be believers or would we think, what a effin scam. Time was to tell. Tick tock tick tock. Than the phone rang. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We answered the phone and she introduced herself and we did too. She explained to us how it will work that spirits will come in around her and us and she will read from their energy. Um.... ok. Lets do this. She asked me if my Grandmother on my Mothers side passed. She did. She said she is coming forward. She than asked if my Grandfather on my Dads side had passed. He did. She said he is coming forward. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">She than asked my Husband if his Mother had passed, she said she is coming forward. And she asked if his Father had passed. They both have. <strong>She said first thing to my Husband, would you say that you were Moms boy? She says Susan, you have never met his mother have you.</strong> I have not. <strong>She says to me, she looks at you and says I approve of you. And she thanks you for taking care of her son.</strong> Nobody knows this, but I would sit in my room sometimes and sort of talk to his mom. I never met her. I always always wonder if she would think I am good enough. I have asked her a lot "Do you approve of me". So that being one of the first things she says his mom said to me. I was a little shocked. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She asks my Husband, does your mom speak another language? </strong>She did, she was Italian<strong>. She says, your mom is speaking a mile a minute. She said to my husband, your Father says "He loves you and he is proud of you", "Im sorry I didn't say this more, I should have said this more to you", she said, he says "At times in his life, he was a man of few words, I often didn't know how to say things I wanted to express to you".</strong> She asked him if this makes sense. From everything he has ever told me about his father she nailed it!!! It was a little surprising. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She said to my husband "Your Father wants me to talk about your placement you have in the family" she said, there is something special about your placement in the family. She says, you're the only boy".</strong> He is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She said did either one of them have problems with their stomach?</strong> My Husband said his father. <strong>She said did he always have heartburn and stomach problems, acid reflux"?</strong> He did!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">And to take in mind, these are people who lived in Italy their whole life and spoke only Italian. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She asks "Who is the Gardener? Who likes flowers? She said, when I asked "what are you doing in heaven I heard Garden and flowers".</strong> My husband always talked about his mom loving her garden and planting her flowers. I remember these conversations, so when she spoke of this it made me smile. <strong>The next thing she asked is, who lives in a condominium or townhouse?</strong> We do.... <strong>She said "Your mother says more flowers, more garden".</strong> The funny thing is, this year, I decided not to buy flowers. I usually do, I just didn't this year.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She said "You mother wants to talk about the month of February".</strong> It was the month she passed away. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She says "Did you and your Husband meet online"? Because your Mother says "And on the computer he meets his wife!!! and on the computer!!!", she said, like she cant believe it and she laughed. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She says "They want me to talk about a Birthday that is coming up".</strong> Our oldest daughters birthday was the next day. <strong>She also said "who plays the music all the time?"</strong>, my Husband listens to Heavy Metal music ALL the time. He was in a Heavy Metal band before he moved from Italy to be with me. <strong>She said, your Mother says "I love to hear the music"....."Its not the kind of music that I would like to hear, but I love to hear YOUR music".</strong> I loved that!! Truly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She talked about my Husbands mother saying how we should go back to Italy, and she said "Your mother talks about you talking to their pictures and honoring them".</strong> When we were in Italy, his parents are in a cemetery, but not in the ground, they are in a wall, and what you see on the face of their wall square is their pictures. When my husband goes there, I leave him for a bit and he talks to them. Talks to their pictures. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She than asked my husband "Do you have problems with your knee?". Your Mother says you need to take care of yourself.</strong> I am not sure if anyone knows this but me and my husband this past December we went to Banff for a little getaway. When we were in the hotel we were playing around and I pushed him off the bed, he hit his knee. Ever since it has bugged him off and on. I don't think he has told anyone that his knee bugs him, except for me.....</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She said to us "She says I saw what you wrote for me".</strong> I asked her to elaborate. <strong>She said "She says thank you, I love this". She asked me, did you made a plaque, or something for her headstone?</strong> Now this was the clincher for me. Since we waited a year to see or hear from Carmel, when Christmas came around I picked up a wooden heart from the craft store. painted it and wrote on it, in Italian "Thank you for raising your son to be the man of my dreams". We sent this to Italy in a package for Christmas. The ONLY people who knew this were me, my husband and his sisters family in Italy. I asked his sister to hang it on her headstone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She said to my husband "Did your mother not drive?". Because she said "Your mother says, if you ask me what I am doing in heaven, I am driving all over the place. She said, "She is much more independent, and your father is the quiet one now. She says I am the boss now."</strong> His mother did not drive!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>She says, was the house that your mother lived in, you sold that correct. She said "you did all of the right things after our passing".</strong> They did sell that house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I asked her before we hung up <strong>"Does his mom have a message for his sister?". She said "She wanted to tell them all she loves them and misses them. She talks about her Rosary or necklace. She says to tell her, "I am in the garden with her". </strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We had many more messages. I wanted to share the ones I loved most. He asked questions, he got answers. But it would be a long long post if I wrote it all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I walk away from this knowing from what I experienced, it was real, she was real. You cannot fake things that nobody else knows. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I remember them telling me on the phone, if you take this call with Carmel, I guarantee you will be happy after the call. I know you are unhappy now, but you wont be after the call. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I can wholeheartedly say, I would take another call in a heartbeat. Was it worth the money? Absolutely!!! The peace that my husband has within his heart was worth more than that. I would pay the money again in a heartbeat to do it again. I was a believer before, now I have my own proof. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My husband.... Is he a believer? I think its hard for him to admit. But he will say, he knows what happened to him that day. Was it real? Yes, it was. And that to me is enough. He knows, it was real, she was real. And it gave him peace within his heart. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you read my last post Weight loss woes, Day1? Click </span><a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.com/2015/07/weight-loss-woes-day-1.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-large;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: x-large;"> to read</span></div>
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</script><br />MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-15162381612987981722015-07-09T20:42:00.000-07:002015-07-09T20:42:14.232-07:00Weight loss woes Day 1<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We did it. We signed back up to Weight Watchers. Not for their celebrity commercials or promise of you can eat what you want. I decided that what I really needed was accountability. Not to myself, obviously that is an epic fail. My Husband and I feed off of one another. If one is weak we pressure the other to do what we want, not that it is all that hard. Twist my rubber arm right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So stepping on the scale I have a long road ahead of me. But I am ok with it. It is only day 1 anyways right? ;) I have decided that exercise, well.... I am not a fan. I can watch what I eat, being accountable to the Matriarch at the weigh in table. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj5s5Pk_4Io69ILUA_pcQtp2EppkRuEPA6X5_CgfyqSZfZfeF4eoGI3BvJcEkMFE4_UCjeJ2d1AAV7aikaibRyc6UTCr6AKerltVWU5AB6ukCrvVmdJujT8lP9EoQNO4RjvbDU-7lngdw/s1600/th2TOYUQ13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj5s5Pk_4Io69ILUA_pcQtp2EppkRuEPA6X5_CgfyqSZfZfeF4eoGI3BvJcEkMFE4_UCjeJ2d1AAV7aikaibRyc6UTCr6AKerltVWU5AB6ukCrvVmdJujT8lP9EoQNO4RjvbDU-7lngdw/s640/th2TOYUQ13.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So I wake up feeling refreshed, I am ready to do this. I have my new blender for smoothies and we are set. I think there is something to be said about first days. They don't always go as planned. I know mine sure didn't. I literally opened this new blender, the last one I burnt the motor out trying to blend carrots. Ya, I know that is what a food processer is for but if you don't have one, you improvise, and..... burn out motors. So anyways, I open this new Ninja blender. Happy as can be I try to put it together. It is not like other blenders, this baby is fancy schmancy. It took me and my mom fumbling around with it to finally get it to work. Lid locked and loaded and I was ready. I didn't put enough milk in and I got a frothy foamy mousse like drink. It wasn't pleasant. I usually love my morning smoothie. I am pretty sure I gagged a little at this one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">With my foamy mousse in my belly, I grabbed a bag of carrots, peas and cottage cheese out of the fridge and some pineapple and I was ready. When lunch time came I opened my bag and looked inside. I thought to myself.... wtf, I didn't even put it in the containers, I just grabbed the whole bag and off I go? Ok, so be it. I wasn't thinking this morning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I grab my bag of peas first, I open them and they look.....off. I was like, dammit, I wanted these, as I scan the bag for the expiry date. Two weeks off the expiry date. Ok, so we don't clean out our fridge regularly. I open the bag of carrots. They too look a tad old, I try one. It is OK but that is a stretch. So I figure, ok I will open the cottage cheese and I will be ok here. I open that, and after my two vegetable fails I take a sniff. REALLY? This too? So I scan the container for the expiry date. Yup! Expired. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Did I mention that we just went grocery shopping the night before and picked up all new fruit and vegetables? Here I am just happen to be choosing all the expired food in the fridge. Just my luck hey. So I grab my pineapple. I bought the pre cored pineapple from the store. I open it hoping to pull out a slice because I know that at least this is still good. Its not the sliced kind... So I just hack into it all pissed off that this is how my lunch has turned out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">To my great delight I remembered that I bought a frozen pasta and stuck it in the freezer at work and then that day went out for something a little better than a frozen microwavable pasta. I was so happy as I opened that freezer door, nobody had eaten it. We all know how some office people can be. If it is there too long they think its free game. So I happily ate this microwavable meal. Yum!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Coming home I felt like I could eat a dump truck of food. Not only am I watching what I am supposed to eat, everything I could have eaten I brought to work only to throw away. I decided, I am going to make Pesto Pasta with chicken. I am psyched, this is gonna be good. With eating almost nothing for lunch I still had quite a few points for supper so the pesto in moderation wasn't going to be a problem. Checked the cupboard, </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">pasta - check</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">chicken - Mother @#$%@#%!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So maybe we are not the greatest shoppers out there. We forgot to get meat. So.... Here we are on our first day of healthy eating, packing everyone into the car for a restaurant meal. There is however a great place to eat chicken and rice and it will still fall well below any points that you would usually eat, eating out. So although dinner at home turned out to be a bust, it was a darn good dinner and good for us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I hope to lose some weight this week. Weigh in is Wednesday. I hope you stay with me for my little journey. It can only get better from here right? ;)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you seen my last post, Fuck you, Mental illness? Click</span><a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/07/fuck-you-mental-illness.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> here</span></a><span style="font-size: x-large;"> to read it</span></div>
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MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-50345665919072535152015-07-08T21:21:00.001-07:002015-07-09T06:28:09.060-07:00Fuck you, mental illness!!<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Depression.... It creeps in like a noxious gas. You don't see it, but you damn sure feel the effects. This January I overcame depression. I would like to say that once you overcome depression you are out of it forever. I hoped, oh I hoped. I have been happy for quite a few months. But I sure do feel it creeping in. It starts out just that little bit. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP1sN8jFWA-qklIIR2FpQowzhcq1972ESqhZFZIZGCvIZpTfp4Mz8spOAjYXHr0vW-eLqjuixQYdBNX5Hc_vOU-_opZh5SpLOgYcCSt5AoZzNb6iL5EEHa_cEL-DP32KMKH7CwHG5l2Hc/s1600/large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="616" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP1sN8jFWA-qklIIR2FpQowzhcq1972ESqhZFZIZGCvIZpTfp4Mz8spOAjYXHr0vW-eLqjuixQYdBNX5Hc_vOU-_opZh5SpLOgYcCSt5AoZzNb6iL5EEHa_cEL-DP32KMKH7CwHG5l2Hc/s640/large.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">You think, ok, sure work can get stressful and life with children too, and this and that. But I know the symptoms now. I lived it. The intense lack of patience. The irritability. They go hand in hand for me. Is it coming back? Absolutely it is. However I lay here thinking tonight.... It isn't that I need more pills, or more therapy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have had anxiety for as long as I can remember. Being a child with anxiety I was the first one to catastrophize things in my head. I suffered a lot throughout my life with anxiety. Having depression and anxiety is devastating. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have learned the tools, I have learned the essential dynamics to keep depression at bay. Why is it creeping in..... After 34 years of coping mechanisms and than suddenly learning a new way at 35 it is easy to fall back into your old habits. To be that old person that you used to be, letting things slip. Thing is.... I can see it now. I see it happening before me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My husband said to me today "I am tired, tired of working everyday, coming home and going to sleep and than going back to work, I am doing nothing". I think this is a perfect example of how we let ourselves slip. To me, anxiety works overtime. My mind is constantly thinking of what can go wrong. I am always in the negative. With depression creeping back in I am irritable and angry as well. Everything makes me mad. The things I loved are slowly slipping away. It has been getting farther between blog posts. A one time enjoyable thing to me has become something of a chore. I don't find the pleasure in it at the moment I once have. Tonight may be different as it is an outlet for my thoughts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I once was ashamed of depression and anxiety. Trying to be the strong person who can handle it all. Well, this time around, I am letting all know it is creeping back in. Not for pity, not for encouragement. For me to let people in. I find that depression is horrible for blocking the whole world out. My boss asks me every Friday "What are your plans for the weekend?" my answer is always the same. "I don't have any plans". The first time I said this he remarked that it is important for one to have plans in order to look forward to something. I think he was on to something here. With my husband feeling the way he does, and I knowing the impending doom if I do not whip myself back into mental shape, I think little things like plans are exactly what we need in our routine of nothing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">A few weekends ago it was a scorcher of a day. It was the hottest day it has been in years. We made plans. We were going to take our daughters 2 & 4 to the Downtown core at City Hall where they have this enormous wading pool. We would get them ready and take them down so we can beat the heat staying cool, playing in the water. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaatsLQTWUJGZu8qCzSVqauPR9k9DCA2MfLA313h6ivjTSxZ6E8FEZOvd0_Z4Sgl3QWUvfgScemTrWV5Cv9CsoNYldcpJXCUU__HxlJVOZi6AFmkLQQyoCfxlHTP8bOnlTaWh9k7zE_aM/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaatsLQTWUJGZu8qCzSVqauPR9k9DCA2MfLA313h6ivjTSxZ6E8FEZOvd0_Z4Sgl3QWUvfgScemTrWV5Cv9CsoNYldcpJXCUU__HxlJVOZi6AFmkLQQyoCfxlHTP8bOnlTaWh9k7zE_aM/s640/unnamed.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have to admit. It was probably the best weekend I have had in a LONG time. It wasn't a sit around do nothing take a nap lay around weekend like it usually is. We went out, we all had fun, we went for lunch after, we had a WONDERFUL day. I absolutely loved it. The girls loved it. After a bit of coaxing to get their daddy in the water, he too loved it. So I think that as much as we are not planners..... Better now than never to start being planners I think. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I will not let depression take me down like it did last time. I remember feeling happier than I had been in years. I remember what I did to get there. I will work my ass off to do it again. What did I do? I took care of myself. I watched my weight, I watched what I ate, we got out of the house, we took the girls out, we walked, I went swimming, I had...... fun! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ycvLs-P8fa5gvhzo0REnRW09CLwjJ32xcgbjaCIUcSh2W-xix2wLY3QJ8X6Btg6W4wyfRS5grgGZ-sNszJz_YZP0jf_GWPI159v7bS0fSK-gjhUlFAgfTB8SSwo9P4geOyVF-FOCTB0/s1600/Anxiety+and+Depression.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ycvLs-P8fa5gvhzo0REnRW09CLwjJ32xcgbjaCIUcSh2W-xix2wLY3QJ8X6Btg6W4wyfRS5grgGZ-sNszJz_YZP0jf_GWPI159v7bS0fSK-gjhUlFAgfTB8SSwo9P4geOyVF-FOCTB0/s640/Anxiety+and+Depression.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">In the state my mind takes me, it is harder than ever to get moving. However...I don't want to go back down the well where I felt crawling out was near impossible. I will get myself back, maybe a better me. Look out world because I wont let it take me down I am coming back.You can bet on it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This picture is an exact representation of how I feel at this very moment!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5a4b_BCvbC6OJDcK90zOKe5mhZJS6HLgEvSd6w8PyWvoZdyty6YTdSbw4JosXbretFyD_btatwBT9n6YadlZP-30lHD35FWYIIXFXTYwVfjfBJLUKq1BJ0z_9q-8WXNspoWYw0lGr6MM/s1600/i-will-not-let-this-control-me-anymore-love-quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5a4b_BCvbC6OJDcK90zOKe5mhZJS6HLgEvSd6w8PyWvoZdyty6YTdSbw4JosXbretFyD_btatwBT9n6YadlZP-30lHD35FWYIIXFXTYwVfjfBJLUKq1BJ0z_9q-8WXNspoWYw0lGr6MM/s640/i-will-not-let-this-control-me-anymore-love-quote.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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</script><br />MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-58276445668979838102015-07-04T22:28:00.003-07:002015-07-04T22:32:26.091-07:00Lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgender... <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have been in a bit of a slump. Unsure of what to write. Not feeling inspired by anything. I can browse through hundreds of blog topics and not a single one speaks to me on any level enough to write about it. I look at some of them, what's in your bag..... Really? Does anyone really give a good god damn what's in my bag? I highly doubt it. So sitting here thinking tonight what is on my mind... I find that the only things I like to write is what rolls through my head. So this here, is what is rolling through my head.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Scrolling through Facebook the other day I saw a picture. It was a courageous picture. This picture stuck with me and I thought about it tonight. This is what I will write about. My feelings on this topic. This is the picture.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVXE2W0hWqOLriBF21TlGw8O0f_WIDlUGkAtkwec4ZQyZmLHwORhMy3682JZaeuzVKMoFh-7tvVL7QmtNjs6eH6BsTuN4enXhwpWcEAdGxgKrjhzerFLNY8_kp6T1SuT_GcseXKlgwNk/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVXE2W0hWqOLriBF21TlGw8O0f_WIDlUGkAtkwec4ZQyZmLHwORhMy3682JZaeuzVKMoFh-7tvVL7QmtNjs6eH6BsTuN4enXhwpWcEAdGxgKrjhzerFLNY8_kp6T1SuT_GcseXKlgwNk/s640/unnamed.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I love that people stand up for what they believe in. I love that our world is becoming more accepting. But we have a long ways to go. I think what stuck with me is the first sentence. Penalty for being gay is death.... Wow. I mean, it is not that we all are not aware that these extreme laws exist in certain countries. It sat with me because it makes me sad. Sad that we live in a world where you cannot be yourself in fear of death. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am not a religious person. I did not grow up that way. I have never sat in a church, I do not know the bible's way of teaching. I will not bring my children up religious. I am not against religion. My belief is that people need hope. People need to believe in something. A higher purpose. If that makes them happy, well so be it. I am however against religion when it comes to hate for others because your religion says so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Being gay isn't a choice, being a bigot is. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I once had a boss who came to me and asked me to sign a petition. I read this petition and it was a petition against gay marriage. He was going around work asking people to sign it. I refused. He was my boss, but I was not about to sign something I don't believe in. I am not and was never against gay marriage. My thoughts are, why is it anyone's business who someone marries? I mean really? Does anyone out there care who I am married to? I bet zero of you do. I think that's why I don't understand how people are against it. To me, it doesn't affect you as a person. So who cares what someone else does. To me, it makes no sense. So that day, I refused to sign that petition. My boss looked at my like I was nuts. I told him straight out, I am not against it. And that was that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have seen articles and people write things like "How do I explain Caitlyn Jenner to my child". Easy, you just do. When the day comes to explain to my children I will explain it as I do why the sun shines, why does the wind blow. It is just a part of life my dear, some people love men, some people love women, some people want to be women, some people want to be men. I fully believe it is only difficult if you believe it is. For me, I welcome the day when they will ask me such questions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">People have asked me "Will you be upset if your daughters tell you they are gay"?. Upset?... not even a little bit. I would be concerned for her and by that I mean, in this world, if you are gay I feel you are immediately dealt a harder hand because of society and its views on gay people. I would be concerned that as my child goes through her life I want her to have a fair shot no matter what people think of her sexual orientation. I would worry about the stress it causes because of other peoples views on what gay is or should be. As my daughters grow I hope to raise them with values and respect for everyone. No matter if they are gay or straight I want them to accept and know they have a right to be accepted. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My Sisters best friend in the whole world is gay. She and her wife are some of the best people I know, I love when they are around. I love them both. My Sister told me she was worried to tell her that she was gay, worried in turn as well as to what I would think. I wish she never even gave it a thought. I think she is and always have thought she was a fantastic person to be around. When I was a teenager and now. To me, she is not "gay" she just is who she is. This is the way we should look at everyone isn't it? I am sure she doesn't think of me as Straight Susan lol.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My thoughts on Bruce Jenner / Caitlyn Jenner. I think she is brave. I can only imagine the feelings of being stuck in the wrong body. I feel so sorry for people who have to go through that. I am glad that there is a way to change that for them these days. I think that Caitlyn Jenner is an amazing role model for so many people. Having to make this life decision is hard enough but to do it in front of the whole world. That is one strong woman! I didn't think I was interested in the whole fuff about Caitlyn Jenner, until I watched the interview. You hear her thoughts and feelings and the real emotion behind it all. It was powerful and I felt for her. I can only hope that it paves the way for more acceptance. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So when my children come to me and ask me what is gay? The answer is simple. This is life my little darlings. When we complicate it, it becomes complicated. It isn't. This is love people. Simple!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><strike>Lesbian</strike>, <strike>Gay</strike>, <strike>Bi-sexual</strike>, <strike>Transgender</strike>, People!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zqeAWbqZHC6_1I1mZYUgZf5A42MUO8ic8iSmR4AghJv_zhGW1FQ8lw60dQKzBLut_LsR_JS5C2AFNFuVvjYYzF6Z29ZCYKiqydXuDikVhC2wRE3Q675S8Dbpw06kaxb_GYqjnxF0PTk/s1600/gay-pride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zqeAWbqZHC6_1I1mZYUgZf5A42MUO8ic8iSmR4AghJv_zhGW1FQ8lw60dQKzBLut_LsR_JS5C2AFNFuVvjYYzF6Z29ZCYKiqydXuDikVhC2wRE3Q675S8Dbpw06kaxb_GYqjnxF0PTk/s640/gay-pride.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you read my last post? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Rides love em or hate em? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Click to read <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/06/rides-love-em-or-hate-em.html" target="_blank">here</a></span><br />
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</script><br />MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-60800866151018025572015-06-30T23:00:00.000-07:002015-06-30T23:01:24.235-07:00Five years of pure love<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">She turned five today. FIVE! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I still remember finding out I was pregnant. The surprise of it all. I dont think I was ready to become a mom. But here it was on the little pregnancy stick telling me, yup, ready or not, you are becoming a mom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">She came into my life 2 hours before my birthday. 10:04pm is when that little angel arrived here for me. When she was born they took her to clean her up and something was wrong. A lot of nurses were crowded around her. Something was happening to me and I was in pain I had people around me. But I knew something was happening with my baby. They said she wasn't getting any color. She was white. They were just about to take her away and do tests and they said give her to her mom. They put her on my chest and it was almost instant. She got color to her. That is where they left her. My little baby girl. On my chest with me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is the first time I held her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I can not imagine a better child than I got with Abigail. She didnt cry like other babies. She hardly cried as a baby. She slept great, she even overslept. I got to sleep in my whole maternity leave. Who can say that? As she grew she became her own little person and even in the terrible two's she never had tantrums. She.... is my little angel. She is such a good girl, and continues to be to this day. She has a kind heart and she has lots of love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I couldn't be happier that she is my child. I couldn't be happier that I got to be her mom. The world brought me this little girl and she has changed my whole life. She has made me a better person. She has given me love and shown me love I never knew existed before her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> I am forever grateful to have you in my life. You are my life, my baby.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Ti Voglio tanto bene amore</span><br />
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-10324127210872467042015-06-27T22:44:00.005-07:002015-06-27T23:04:11.606-07:00Rides, Love em or hate em?<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am not a fan of hot weather. To say that is an understatement. I hate Summer. Always have. With Summer comes the bugs, the bees and ughhh the heat. Today was one of those ughh days. It was 30 degrees celsius. I did not want to go out in the heat. Not even a little bit. But I also didnt want my children to be stuck in the house all day on such a ..... Nice day (for others). I was supposed to go to the beach to visit with my Sister who is camping this weekend. We however got a call from her saying the beach is beyond disgusting, full of bird poop so bad she is gagging. Um... ya, beach out. So off to the park we went.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Walking across the field I think to myself, geez, even the grass is crunchy, damn this heat. Looking ahead my 4 year old says "Mommy, there is nobody at the park". "Nope there sure isnt" I say, thinking to myself (Who in their right mind would be standing in this Sahara desert bullshit, that's why there is nobody at the park) Everything in that park was hot. Their poor little bums on the swings. But as kids they endure it. They dont mind, they want to play. Me... I wanted to dive for the shade, hide from this blaring sun. But I pushed them both on the swings and we played until they were too hot to go on. Yay for me.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuqS1CZdLLT7G1lwz6UyfPQilw2x0UrLog-Q7E1MESNC4ML1CwDfVY4MBKsCe-QMezuQpzAHvRMed2LHmgFxmddh11EKOSHRli3r6qRqZEPg3NJ-xCoelcgwvKqRL1qJ_o8rNZ1IWt30/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuqS1CZdLLT7G1lwz6UyfPQilw2x0UrLog-Q7E1MESNC4ML1CwDfVY4MBKsCe-QMezuQpzAHvRMed2LHmgFxmddh11EKOSHRli3r6qRqZEPg3NJ-xCoelcgwvKqRL1qJ_o8rNZ1IWt30/s640/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Our plans for the next day included a trip to a small carnival that we saw in a shopping mall parking lot some days ago. I told our 4 yr old if it is still there this weekend we will go. Out tonight we passed said parking lot and it in fact is still there. I thought to myself. The night is getting cooler, the clouds are blocking the sun, it is still hot as hell, but the sun isnt beating into my soul like it was earlier today at the park. Why take them tomorrow when it will be even hotter (god help me) and the sun will be out in full force. Lets go now!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Not that me or my husband we too fond of this idea the girls were quite thrilled. Our 2 yr old was happy I believe only because her sister was happy and she is all into doing whatever her big sister does at this moment. So she is happy, so is the little one. We paid for our tickets and we are ready for this little evening fun.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9eeJm9J0QHouK3TNxCus9zPcdM1KUROpHeSzFKfpjr8hK6Lmhs6aAZxRS3H5EYLZXABFSRNjzv0J-ZzBosdJGsXhQ1WS8v5DESBw_4dAwhHr3Y4-0esNxtMaMncYWCDhX5gFo37blPDk/s1600/IMG_8580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9eeJm9J0QHouK3TNxCus9zPcdM1KUROpHeSzFKfpjr8hK6Lmhs6aAZxRS3H5EYLZXABFSRNjzv0J-ZzBosdJGsXhQ1WS8v5DESBw_4dAwhHr3Y4-0esNxtMaMncYWCDhX5gFo37blPDk/s640/IMG_8580.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8aH_AeU59WMDLXeKo3CNSL9fzkxXvMTbQvWIzp7y3o7vr_ZeeesZ1vw-otu-ab5ls7UEgk4b3wf9VwO-RM_Tdg7YnZWaBabO99ETsm1FfAKgXJAiNIRXDibam0fH3TX-1wbUI2so5kc/s1600/IMG_8587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8aH_AeU59WMDLXeKo3CNSL9fzkxXvMTbQvWIzp7y3o7vr_ZeeesZ1vw-otu-ab5ls7UEgk4b3wf9VwO-RM_Tdg7YnZWaBabO99ETsm1FfAKgXJAiNIRXDibam0fH3TX-1wbUI2so5kc/s640/IMG_8587.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">They quite enjoyed their first ride. Unfortunately our youngest was not happy at the end and more than ready to come off. This little helicopter ride only our oldest was to go on. But the little one wanted to as well. The lady said sure if she went on with someone. I offered my husband up instantly (hehe). Well, that backfired because than they both wanted to go on with us. It never occurred to me that I would have to go on a ride. Dammit all to hell. lol. I HATE rides. I don't care if it is a little baby ride or a big ride. I haven't been on these rides since I was a teenager and I am well past that. So I climbed into this little purple helicopter pod for my girls. We rode around and around and around, spinning rides are the ones I hate the most. Get me off them immediately. I was so more than ready to come out when the ride stopped.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHQ6HJJoemJAcsQCUAxxg-HLiN0Uf7PbkbDAhyaAXkuh0VvJv7goNt99S2pChpICbw1T5WTiZRrBCm-vw1l_8GotxOrvduTqGBqQ4Qtq_04CCsvQ4OlwWzDQbkI1JNVNAbbRZ6vq_T18/s1600/unnamed+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHQ6HJJoemJAcsQCUAxxg-HLiN0Uf7PbkbDAhyaAXkuh0VvJv7goNt99S2pChpICbw1T5WTiZRrBCm-vw1l_8GotxOrvduTqGBqQ4Qtq_04CCsvQ4OlwWzDQbkI1JNVNAbbRZ6vq_T18/s640/unnamed+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We got a snow cone and played the dart game and won the girls their little stuffed animal they will never touch again $10 well spent right there. But I always remember how I felt as a kid. It was fun, it didnt matter that the stupid stuffed animal was not fun after you won it, it was that you won it!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTl7Nt0DNTlPfqqmzt6LqF2suStLY_OXSbWlVH4o68ZxAvuWxiSMaa2D1G-W0v32GYYn_YRtge0574IB24JhwdBT3iltjLk8Z_osUZbkxN2M8q4swrWe8j32K6a1hWPaTZgghVmvzTws/s1600/IMG_8599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTl7Nt0DNTlPfqqmzt6LqF2suStLY_OXSbWlVH4o68ZxAvuWxiSMaa2D1G-W0v32GYYn_YRtge0574IB24JhwdBT3iltjLk8Z_osUZbkxN2M8q4swrWe8j32K6a1hWPaTZgghVmvzTws/s640/IMG_8599.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Of course the snow cone comes back to us parents as the kids only want to hold it for so long. My Husband says to me "What is this thing?". I say to him "What, you have never had a snow cone?". I mean, seriously now. I know you grew up in Italy and have only been here 6 years but what in the mother lovin hell... Hasn't everyone had a snowcone? I quite enjoyed the snowcone. Yum!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So as we are driving home it occurs to me. Shit!!! This is just the beginning. This isn't even the BIG exhibition. What happens when she wants to go on the big rides, I know sure as shit her father isn't gonna go as he hates them as much as me. What to do... These kids are only going to get bigger and want to go on rides and god forbid with us... So I devised a plan. These kids will want to go on every ride someday. I hate all... So what shall I do. It hits me! When these kids get bigger and they want to go on rides, I will buy 3 tickets. Two for the kids and 1 for my Sister. She loves rides more than anyone I know. And there we have it. Problem solved :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you read my last post A missed opportunity? Click <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/06/a-missed-opportunity.html" target="_blank">here</a></span></div>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-19415874190015069962015-06-26T20:57:00.001-07:002015-06-26T21:07:27.412-07:00A missed opportunity<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">A missed opportunity. We have all had these, have we not? Mine happened when I was 22 years old. It is not something that weighs me down or leaves a deep pit in my heart, however I do think of it from time to time. What would my life be like if I had chosen the other path? Would I be happy? Would I have enjoyed it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Regret. What is regret? In my case we can define it as a feeling of contrition over a missed opportunity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My Mothers first cousin is a world renowned Master Carver of Native Art. His name is Dempsey Bob. He has his work all over the world. Totem poles in Japan and another at Canada House in London England, Museums in Germany, Japan, BC. These are just a few at best. He is a Northwest carver who was born in the same village as my mother, Telegraph Creek. I wrote about it <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/03/an-untouched-beauty.html" target="_blank">here</a>. He is of Tahltan and Tlingit decent, as am I. However I am half as my father is English. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is Dempsey Bob.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGwmYjl4BFv6DiG6Npx8mwq4BfHDizuzYKJJguUHqLr0gLI3P7LkZvaNBdjx2TAMYJn4vYgjjbnln6w1MCMjPUOXTN6M0sWSiDEgVYKvEi8SHj7z260yqEK8FX3dIJvmcNFdC3x5CZKo/s1600/Dempsey_Bob_110917_3-1024x819.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGwmYjl4BFv6DiG6Npx8mwq4BfHDizuzYKJJguUHqLr0gLI3P7LkZvaNBdjx2TAMYJn4vYgjjbnln6w1MCMjPUOXTN6M0sWSiDEgVYKvEi8SHj7z260yqEK8FX3dIJvmcNFdC3x5CZKo/s640/Dempsey_Bob_110917_3-1024x819.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What is this missed opportunity you ask? Dempsy wanted to teach someone in the family. Pass on this wonderful art. Now when you think about it, there are probably many people who would want to be taught by somebody so profound. And here was my shot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I was 22. I went to Terrace, BC with my Mother. I met with Dempsey at his shop in Terrace where they were working on a totem pole. He showed me around, he talked about the totem pole he was carving, showed me the tools. It was quite an experience.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYaFZhpGBlMCTH65BKdYgqm2vjmMwdDOhOWN51d38pkVby2VUPtCKbNQ6JBOmErYZVRphwa8IDbp9__neGg0xFuHbZM18feQnkly7IV3iun9dtmQYsK_8HL3Bci04bvDOCaN4gEXFfzW8/s1600/Dempsey+Bob+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYaFZhpGBlMCTH65BKdYgqm2vjmMwdDOhOWN51d38pkVby2VUPtCKbNQ6JBOmErYZVRphwa8IDbp9__neGg0xFuHbZM18feQnkly7IV3iun9dtmQYsK_8HL3Bci04bvDOCaN4gEXFfzW8/s640/Dempsey+Bob+4.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Maori Art Market</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I thought about it. A LOT. I was prepared to move to Terrace, BC and leave my immediate family, to move to be with my extended family and learn from one of the great ones. My family was excited, I was excited. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I guess what happened next is what usually happens isn't it? I met a boy... oooo ahhhh. I didn't go. I stayed here in Edmonton. It ended up being the worst relationship I had ever been in, you can read that <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/06/i-wanna-see-you-be-brave.html" target="_blank">here</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I guess this is how life goes sometimes. You have something in the palm of your hands and being young you discard it. I do wonder, what would it have brought me in life. I have always wanted to know more about my heritage, what better way that to immerse myself in it. But that time has gone and passed. I took a different path. Although, my choice to stay with said boy was probably a mistake, it all brought me to where I am now. I am happy. I got everything I wanted. A man who loves me to the end of the earth and two beautiful children. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So when I think of it. These missed opportunities, well..... They could have been a grand wonderful life. They could have changed my life in ways I can not imagine. But in another time I guess. I think sometimes your life has a way of paving its own path. Why did I chose to stay? Maybe life chooses what you should be, maybe I was ultimately meant to be a wife and a mom of these two little girls. I guess we will never know. And thus, why it was and is a missed opportunity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I do hope that there is someone to pass on this tradition to, because it is something you don't want people in the future talking about as a lost art. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I hope it lives on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you read my last post 20 Rules for Daddy's with Daughters? Click <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/06/20-rules-for-daddys-with-daughters.html" target="_blank">here</a></span></div>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-10564735463181206612015-06-21T20:24:00.001-07:002015-06-21T20:35:42.239-07:00Um.... Happy Fathers Day???<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I think that when people imagine what their Fathers Day is going to be like they think of waking up blissful and having a wonderful breakfast, great coffee and having the perfect day. I am sure when my husband awoke today he thought that too. Well.... We tried. We really did</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We woke up with me in a slight panic, we slept in!! I was supposed to get up at a certain time to make sure the pulled pork was in the slow cooker so it can cook all day. Thank goodness for the variance in times on that amazing invention. Pulled pork crisis, averted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We decided, yup, lets head out for a Fathers Day breakfast. But keeping in mind, half the city will be out too. My Husband is NOT fond of line ups. Me, I will wait, if the food is worth waiting for. Him, no way, we are on to the next spot. So I had to think strategically on where we were to go. There is a little truck stop restaurant that has decent food and I can not imagine the city lining up out the door. So off we went.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">We got a table right away. We had the girls dressed up in their best dresses which they both asked to wear in lieu of the occasion. Our youngest daughter is 2. Enough said right? I mean why even bother bringing these little monsters out in public. But alas we did, all dressed up for Daddy. First thing she does.... Dumps her chocolate milk on her dress. Well there goes that... Whatever, brush it off, she is two.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Breakfast comes and all proceeds as normal. We are almost done. We have made it. Or so we thought.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Our other daughter is 4. She is a very very good girl. She is quietly playing with the coffee creamers on the table. We hear a loud POP. I look over... She has squished one in her mouth and she is covered in it. Little splatters of milk all over her pretty little face and her beautiful dress. Fantastic. Thanks Abigail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now I have talked about this before in my previous blog "10 things I didnt know about birth and babies" you can read that <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/05/10-things-i-didnt-know-about-birth-and.html" target="_blank">here</a>. After two children, to my dismay, my bladder is not what it used to be. A powerful laugh, a violent cough...pee. Do you hear me ladies? Are you with me? So, what happens next for us? I choke on my food of course. Cough cough cough cough cough PEE.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd were done. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Um..... Happy Fathers Day Honey </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Nobody said we were a perfect family. But it is what makes us.... us :)</span></div>
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<br />MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-2470006284764771412015-06-21T13:47:00.002-07:002015-06-24T14:06:46.863-07:00My Father through my eyes<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My Father has always been such a big part of my life. I can not imagine growing up without him. I think he has molded who I am today. His values, his mannerisms his sense of humor his work ethic, I get them all from my father. I sometimes believe I am perfectly half my Mother and half my Father. I am happy I got the father I did. I have seen some dads in my day, some so serious, some workaholics. Mine... Mine was always there, always played with us, always made time, and still does.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have told my Father many times how I feel about him. He is the first man I ever loved, he is someone I hold with such high regard. He has been the pedestal that I hold all men to. To me, my Father knows EVERYTHING. There is nothing he cannot do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is my Father through my eyes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My first memories of my Father are him reading stories to me. So many stories. I loved it. Not only from books but he would make up the most fantastic stories. He once brought home huge refrigerator boxes and made us houses out of them that we colored and also made us a cardboard slide down the stairs.<br />We would have taste testing games where he would get food from the fridge and blindfolded we would try them all. He would strap pillows to our front and back and we could bounce around the room on each other.<br />He would play with us in the snow, making mazes and snowmen. We went on vacation every year. He would always take us camping. He would take us fishing and we would catch little turtles</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">These are only a few early memories of my father. I always believed I got the pick of the crop when it came to Dads. My dad was FUN!!!! He always made everything fun. If there was ever a man who was made to have children, it was my Father. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now I was a trying teenager. I tested the boundaries as best I could. But after those years passed and as I have grown up, the closer I have become to both my parents. My Father has always been there for me. From the times I scraped my knee and needed a hug, to the times I had a flat tire and needed him to change it. The MANY times I couldn't start my car and he would come rescue me. Day or night, he was there. I always know, I can count on my Dad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">If I needed my Father there was never anything he wouldn't do for me. I feel I can fully count on him for anything. And I love him more than he knows for that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What is my Father to me? He was my superhero as a little girl, he became the man who taught me life lessons and restrictions, he is the one taught me to be the person I am today. He is now Grandpa to my children. I watch him with tearful wonder at how much love he has for them. I see how he is with them, The way they look at him. He is to them what he was to me as a little girl. That all wonderful fun loving person. He holds the bar high for what a Father should be. I am forever grateful for that. I love him to the ends of the universe. He is my almighty, he is my Daddy. </span><br />
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-59313488612576100972015-06-20T23:58:00.001-07:002015-06-21T09:02:46.032-07:0020 Rules for Daddy's with Daughters<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My Father had two daughters. My husband and I now have two daughters as well. As Fathers Day is here I sit and reflect on my life with my Father and think about my Husband and his life beginning with his two daughters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><b>Here are my </b></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><b>20 rules for Daddy's with Daughters</b></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1. When they want to cuddle, open your arms wide. The day will come too soon that she will not want to cuddle with Daddy anymore. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">2. When she asks you to read her a book, read her the book. She enjoy's the voices Daddy's do</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">3. Paint her nails at least once. Toenails too. And let her paint yours</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">4. Take the time to listen to her. It may be childish dribble but she will grow to know, Daddy always listened</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">5. Love her mother. She will grow up learning the way to be treated by the way you treat her mother. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">6. When she asks you to play, play. They will soon grow and no longer want you to play with them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">7. Show her how to fix something. She will see you as the man who knows everything. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">8. Make bathtime fun. Bubbles and laughter she will remember for a lifetime</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">9. Dance with her. Dance often and dance crazy</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">10. Tell her she is beautiful every single day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">11. Take her on date nights. Take the time to spend precious moments together. She will remember the times spent with Daddy forever</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">12. When she has bad dreams and comes to sleep in your bed. Cherish it, it wont last :(</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">13. Daughters may melt your heart, but remember to say no once and awhile. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">14. Encourage her and show her praise. It will enlighten her soul</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">15. Tell her you love her everyday!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">16. Be delicate and understanding when she hits puberty. Awkward and jokes are not the key here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">17. Do not scare away a first boyfriend. If she feels comfortable with you, she will confide in you. If you make her feel nervous, she will never. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">18. Her first broken heart... You need number 14 for this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">19. Be real with her. Talk to her, everyday </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">20. Let her know, wherever she goes, whatever happens, the door to home is always open</span>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9D-z_sDKZhI66h9s8UrpjIK8318a-IkvGl0-Qs62y0dGI6E7F_Rj52C-u-Fq5CYjopfaeEGdQShPyI-zSO_bXJ8r6P-CjxPKUh_B2Uu73kR1EDqBQnOOoKspH6zsufTE-rvPVOVmAfo/s1600/Happy-Fathers-Day-Quotes-From-Daughter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9D-z_sDKZhI66h9s8UrpjIK8318a-IkvGl0-Qs62y0dGI6E7F_Rj52C-u-Fq5CYjopfaeEGdQShPyI-zSO_bXJ8r6P-CjxPKUh_B2Uu73kR1EDqBQnOOoKspH6zsufTE-rvPVOVmAfo/s640/Happy-Fathers-Day-Quotes-From-Daughter.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-46183353700280683212015-06-19T21:40:00.001-07:002015-06-19T21:57:44.974-07:00Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Today was a good day in the blogging world. I was nominated TWICE for <i>Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award. </i>Am I happy about it? Hells ya! It wasn't too long ago I was whining and crying about my followers and views on my blog (You can read that <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/05/my-brutal-truth-about-blogging.html" target="_blank">here</a>) Now two nominations! I am one happy blogger. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Both nominations came with different awards :)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3s6CNKLbjxJLHXz6hoKzTfL4lUOBVcdhu4YKGbX95HxfQrcCO2b5BSouf693V-pWuQdXq3-1ojiLZw3kbdsXkfR9pE0fgZmxg9cKxu18Hwkat_N9gGowuTLP1vp-nInjR5GcC9Ka5U84/s1600/unnamed+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3s6CNKLbjxJLHXz6hoKzTfL4lUOBVcdhu4YKGbX95HxfQrcCO2b5BSouf693V-pWuQdXq3-1ojiLZw3kbdsXkfR9pE0fgZmxg9cKxu18Hwkat_N9gGowuTLP1vp-nInjR5GcC9Ka5U84/s400/unnamed+%25284%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7shZkbRv1d7VQXQ9oW_Thsh65bPNmofAf8l_0reS8YhQSx281-LX1KeOJkgH5cJT0wC5tRx7DPXvqOBp1-3g_D-8NUZ-UPhkjY1iPkWo8MRueIPzS3kmFCwnNvfC44JXfNVN5O_Cep50/s1600/unnamed+%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7shZkbRv1d7VQXQ9oW_Thsh65bPNmofAf8l_0reS8YhQSx281-LX1KeOJkgH5cJT0wC5tRx7DPXvqOBp1-3g_D-8NUZ-UPhkjY1iPkWo8MRueIPzS3kmFCwnNvfC44JXfNVN5O_Cep50/s400/unnamed+%25285%2529.jpg" width="371" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">This may be the closest I get to a pair of True Religions ;)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Thank you both to </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://twitter.com/nic_spirational" target="_blank">Nic Spirational</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/randommusings29" target="_blank">Random Musings</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">If you are not following them on Twitter here is your chance :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Before I accept this wonderful award I have to answer ten questions (from each nominee). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b style="font-size: xx-large;">1. How would you keep fit and active during the summer when its really hot? </b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Does opening and closing the freezer door count? If not, maybe aquasizing. You are in the water in a pool so sweat isnt a problem. I hate feeling hot. HATE IT</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>2. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you go and why?</b> Venice!!! It is the most beautiful place I have ever been and I love every second I spend there. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>3. When was the last time you cried?</b> Last week I believe</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>4. Have you ever been on a crazy diet?</b> No, I dont have that much dedication and will power to do crazy diets. McDonalds here I come</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>5. Where do you see yourself in 10 years time? </b>Hopefully happy and successful in my job. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>6. How do you like to relax? </b>Laying in my bed with nobody around. Just pure silence</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>7. If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? </b>Rice!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>8. Do you spend a lot of time on Social Media? What's your favorite site?</b> I spend as much as I can providing the time. My favorite is twitter</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>9. Tell us something funny that happened when you were a teenager. </b>I got off the bus and was staring at a cute guy on the bus, as the bus pulled away, and still in plain view of the cutie, I turned around and face planted straight into a sign. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>10. How would you feel if you were forced to live with a penguin?</b> I would feel bad for the penguin. Poor thing, I am sure he wouldnt enjoy living with me. And I pet one at West Edmonton Mall once, they stink lol. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;"><b>Here goes my second batch of questions</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>1. If you were given the chance to walk on the moon would you do it?</b> I wouldn't say a definitive yes, to be honest it scares me a little. But it would be damn cool</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>2. Camping by a beautiful waterfall with gorgeous weather or a 5 star luxury accommodation with terrible weather?</b> Before kids I probably would say camping, but Mama needs a nice bed and some pampering lol. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>3. What is your favorite social networking site and why? </b>Twitter! It is more fast paced than Facebook. Love it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>4. Beer or Wine?</b> Neither, I don't like the taste of alcohol. Yes... I said it. Yes, none of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>5. Which item can you never leave the house without?</b> Sadly, my phone</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>6. If you had to take part in a reality Tv show, which would it be and why? </b>Cutthroat Kitchen. It seems fun and I am so not into the drama of most reality shows. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>7. If every job had the same salary, which job would you choose?</b> I would work in a doggy daycare.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>8. Would you rather: write a terrible blog post and have it go viral or write an amazing blog post and only have 10 people read it? </b>A terrible one for sure lol. How exciting would it be to go viral lol</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>9. If you could be known for one thing, what would it be? </b>Raising decent little human beings into this crazy world of ours. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>10. If you could change your first name would you? If yes, what would you choose to be called?</b> I wouldnt. I used to hate my name, but it is me. I am Susan. It would be weird calling me anything else. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;"><b><u>Here are my nominees</u></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I think they are fantastic bloggers. </span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Do I think its ok to give a "Sisterhood" award to men? </span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">DAMN RIGHTS!! They have </span>fantastic<span style="font-family: inherit;"> blogs!</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Click on their names to follow them on Twitter and their blogs to read their posts. You will not be disappointed.</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://twitter.com/Mr_Kitney" target="_blank">Martyn's Thoughts</a> -</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have thoroughly enjoyed reading your posts. Read his blog <a href="http://www.insidemartynsthoughts.com/" target="_blank">here</a> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://twitter.com/Deardads1979" target="_blank">Dear Dads</a> - Your posts keep me captivated and I havent read one I didnt love. Read his blog <a href="http://deardadsblog.com/" target="_blank">here</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://twitter.com/DomesticMomster" target="_blank">Domesticated Momster</a> - Have I not told you I love your blog? I do! I see you were nominated but hell, some people were meant to be nominated twice ;) Read her blog <a href="http://domesticatedmomster.com/" target="_blank">here</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://twitter.com/triplethedad" target="_blank">The Triplet Dad</a> - From the first post I read I loved your blog. Read his blog <a href="http://www.triplethedad.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank">here</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://twitter.com/Daysinbed" target="_blank">Days in Bed</a> - Loved your blog from the get go darling. You just keep me coming back. I know you too were nominated already, but same as Trista, sometimes twice was meant to be ;) Read her blog <a href="http://www.daysinbed.com/" target="_blank">here</a></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDV3KLYJ2938-L9tigKk9ZhxQAjUP70TJluctc7sonYzcIYAIRQUyAK_p5KbaPHqTO1jfdlCdbegjNa63OZjc4pwHXTTe0D0ldVkELrXMbR_B8Tx-1MeaM1ov7dT207NUEsnq3wHR7zv8/s1600/poster-moment-awesome-you-are.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDV3KLYJ2938-L9tigKk9ZhxQAjUP70TJluctc7sonYzcIYAIRQUyAK_p5KbaPHqTO1jfdlCdbegjNa63OZjc4pwHXTTe0D0ldVkELrXMbR_B8Tx-1MeaM1ov7dT207NUEsnq3wHR7zv8/s640/poster-moment-awesome-you-are.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Here are the 10 questions I am asking my nominees</u></span></div>
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<ol>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Did you enjoy school?</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">What is the saying you despise the most?</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">What is your most treasured possession?</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">How do you spend a typical Saturday night?</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Name 3 things you are really good at and 3 things you are really bad at</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Do you care what others think of you?</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">What is your favorite movie and why?</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">What is the worst movie you have ever seen?</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">What was the last thing you ate?</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Do you believe in aliens? Why or why not?</span></li>
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MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-49004880341685419222015-06-18T21:12:00.002-07:002015-06-24T14:09:15.226-07:00What my dog means to me<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I always joke he was my impulse buy. But in fact he really was. I had always wanted a dog. On every Christmas list for Santa growing up there was a dog on that list. But that dog never came. My Mother was not fond of animals so we did not grow up with any. It was just one day, passing by the doggies in the window and I saw him. He was so cute, so little, so fluffy and curly. I HAD to hold him. My bf at the time and I decided we would bring him home. He was one hell of an impulse buy, he cost us over a thousand dollars. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Puppies are HARD work!!! It was like preparing myself for a baby. The first night he cried the whole night. It was pure hell. I did my best to learn about raising a puppy. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNpQEmwCDS62lLhgFlq0IyOS6D_LPMBNSgGlzPAubv6btcOwEKtmb_bdoKVGZfDFLpn4e6-PmzpLO_9vk7guNWJpgRrtwTh8GecfZxSdTVs8TA8AFzicK5S7B1YQdYBuGxraTtrQQSPY/s1600/Ryley+278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNpQEmwCDS62lLhgFlq0IyOS6D_LPMBNSgGlzPAubv6btcOwEKtmb_bdoKVGZfDFLpn4e6-PmzpLO_9vk7guNWJpgRrtwTh8GecfZxSdTVs8TA8AFzicK5S7B1YQdYBuGxraTtrQQSPY/s320/Ryley+278.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I decided to kennel train him. It was probably the best decision I had made. Leaving him while I went to work was not. He would cry like he was sobbing. It was truly heartbreaking. The great thing is I worked 5 minutes from work at the time and I could come home for lunch and I would take him out for a pee and I would walk him around the school field for an hour before I had to leave him again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">No book or person can prepare you for how awful it is to train a puppy to pee outside. It felt like torture. During this time is when I had my life changing catastrophic breakup. I got the puppy. I was dealing with such heartache and I would cry ALL the time. People would tell me "At least you have a dog at home, they sense when you are sad and comfort you"... People who say such things never cried around a puppy! I would lay on the floor sobbing from pure heartbreak and this fluffy little ball would run full bore into my face with a toy. Comforting... no! But he was my sweetie pie. He was all I had. He kept me going. I loved him, I still love him. I named him Ryley.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It makes me laugh thinking of children telling their parents '"Can I PLEASE have a puppy, I will take care of him". hahahahaha BULLSHIT!!! I was 28 years old the first time I had a puppy and I was ready to throw in the towel. Unless you are ready to devote your life to this puppy until they are no longer a pee in the house, crying, pooping, chew everything little devil you're not ready kids. Its just fact. The thought of raising another puppy makes me want to cry lol. But life with a dog is wonderful. I love him to the core. I love that I am his world as well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">When he was just out of puppy stage I would take him over to my mothers house (She started liking dogs after Ryley) She called him her Grandpuppy. This was before kids of course. He would always want to stay at my moms house and not come home until I became pregnant. After that, and to this day, he will not leave my side. He wants to go wherever I go. If I go to the kitchen, he is there, if I go to bed so does he, if I shower, he is laying on the bathmat. I am not sure but I am pretty positive it had something to do with me being pregnant. I love that I am his one. He holds my heart. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">When I bought my impulse purchase that day I also bought him a few toys. One of them a blue Platypus, now I know it isnt a Duck, but I have called it a duck from day one. This toy was his favorite and it still is. If you are laying on a bed and he wants to cuddle, he will go look for that duck/platypus. This is him with it as a baby and him now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What does having a dog mean to me?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">He saved me when I was broken. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">He was there for me when no one else was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b> <i>"Until one has loved a dog, a part of ones soul has remained awakened"</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you seen my last post? Click <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/06/driving-intexticated.html" target="_blank">here</a></span></div>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-80088029207448390172015-06-17T21:10:00.000-07:002015-06-18T13:53:37.116-07:00Driving intexticated<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Texting and driving. I am not sure I know anyone who has not done it. Before it became illegal to do so I never even thought of it as a problem. The thing is... It is a huge problem! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I think it is safe to say we can all spot the person who is texting and driving. The person who is constantly braking, the one drifting lanes, the person who is going too slow. You pass them and yep... cell phone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It wasn't until this law took effect that I really paid attention to why it was such a problem and how big of a problem it is. Statistics vary however one said that 23% of vehicle collisions involve a cell phone. That is almost a quarter of accidents due to talking or texting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I know the pull a cell phone has. I understand the need to feel you HAVE to return that message, or you HAVE to look and see what he/she said. But in reality, when you look at it further... Can it wait? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I never had a text that was worth my life, my children's life or </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">someone else's life. Because there isnt a text that is worth it. Problem is... I dont think that people will ever get it. Majority yes, but I dont believe that we as a society will ever fully get through to people. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have argued with people close to me. Put the damn phone down. Not only are we at risk, we put others at risk. I don't want to live my life knowing I killed someone, or disabled them because I needed to text or talk on my phone. I have picked it up, and immediately thought "Would this be worth jail time"? What if I caused a deadly collision. I kill someone, possibly myself, someone else. I leave their family missing a loved one and I leave my daughters because of something so minor. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is no secret now that I am the poster child for anxiety. I worry a lot while I drive. I take notice to how others drive and what they are doing around me. It is amazing, that even though we have the Distracted Driving Law, people will always still text or talk on their phone. Always!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is a scary thought. I have my babies with me in my vehicle. They are 2 & 4. Would they be able to survive a crash because of someones need to text? My phone goes in my purse and stays there while I drive. If I miss a text or a call, well... so be it. My life and my children's and anyone else's life is more important that my damn phone. I wish everyone felt the same way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">77% of people feel they are very confident that they can safely text and drive. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">77%!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">55% of people feel it is easy to text and drive. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is said that people who text and drive spend 10% of their driving time outside of their lane. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It only takes a second. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I don't believe this can be prevented. I feel it is like drunk driving. There will always be those people who feel they are ok, they can do it better than the rest. It will be ok. Unfortunately, I think the only way these people will learn is by experience of loss. Driving while drunk and killing another, someone driving drunk and killing your loved one. Same as texting.. Will they get it unless it happens to them? Sadly, in my opinion, I think not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Of all the preventative videos I have seen this one stuck with me the most. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am not an advocate on </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> texting and driving. I am just another mom out there driving her children around amoungst these people. I wish we could get through to them all.. I wish they could potentially see what they could destroy by a simple message. I wish....</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This video I think speaks volumes</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The next time you're driving and you hear your phone, think this.... </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Is it worth a life?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you read my last post? Click <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/06/fear-rational-or-irrational.html" target="_blank">here</a></span></div>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-23033625785940581742015-06-15T12:41:00.000-07:002015-06-17T10:25:28.691-07:00Superior Skin Giveaway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I personally think it is never too early to start taking care of your skin. What better way to achieve great looking skin than to start your regime as soon as possible. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>What is this wonderful prize you ask? </b></span></span></div>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-59671840499389432452015-06-14T21:09:00.001-07:002015-06-17T10:24:57.725-07:00Fear, rational or irrational?<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Fear.... a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, whether imagined or real. Everyone has something they fear. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Mine....... Mine is Bears</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Ever since I was a little girl we would go on vacation every year. We would camp around several different places and always one of them was in bear country. I have had anxiety my whole life, it was apparent to me now that I had it as a child as well. Though I do not think this is an irrational fear, my fear of caterpillars, yes, now that is irrational. But Bears... Bears can kill you, caterpillars not. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZCPUuwIlho3kPB0s9dJwgpff0EHIysjY3IhSzbzbR44Jwef21V8j5xOHtXkxtcqhSSYc4VjE6iv1GaXQL_Oj5dgemGfoDuhChcUQkLJ_MoLWYUSJ2GWY4Nra9F_1DFHRJVa-JnE0Zdc/s1600/5e5e205ed5802a95b2d086dd76528b66.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZCPUuwIlho3kPB0s9dJwgpff0EHIysjY3IhSzbzbR44Jwef21V8j5xOHtXkxtcqhSSYc4VjE6iv1GaXQL_Oj5dgemGfoDuhChcUQkLJ_MoLWYUSJ2GWY4Nra9F_1DFHRJVa-JnE0Zdc/s640/5e5e205ed5802a95b2d086dd76528b66.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I remember reading the little pamphlet they gave you when you would go into the campground in bear country. I would read that sucker front to back. I was going to be prepared for this. God I hated camping in bear country. Nothing freaked me out more than seeing one of these signs up around the campground</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELnMXs2vJqhgytQPiIhy9Axmt6StrZRahG5RDeEC2-IshIivUOv32olUfn28bWRElQi67b2XVdGY08vqOClbqNZg8oUXWSroUJm8e5sA13PXkPNqe4cpwFF-5sQ7WeUYVHuWo2-8EWdo/s1600/bearsign03a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELnMXs2vJqhgytQPiIhy9Axmt6StrZRahG5RDeEC2-IshIivUOv32olUfn28bWRElQi67b2XVdGY08vqOClbqNZg8oUXWSroUJm8e5sA13PXkPNqe4cpwFF-5sQ7WeUYVHuWo2-8EWdo/s640/bearsign03a.jpg" width="458" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Approach the bear.... Who is kidding who here. But I am sure there are those idiotic few who do. Morons!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Upon being an adult and finally deciding what is better for my sanity, I do not camp in bear country anymore. Is it beautiful? Absolutely. The best campgrounds are in bear country, but I am not and have not been made to endure it. I despise it. I am terrified the whole time. And believe you me, you are not having fun being around me panicking all the time. It is just not worth it for me to venture into bear country anymore. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I do feel sorry for those who have had to endure camping with me. The fear in me is real people. We once camped in a beautiful campground. Bear country... I read that pamphlet front to back again. I was going to follow it to a T. All food and bathroom items in the car, nothing in the tent except your blankets and what not. Do not sleep in the clothes you ate or cooked in. Do not have anything in the tent that will attract the bear. This meant that every piece of clothing went in the car. In doing this, I made my boyfriend at the time go to bed in his boxers. In the morning I had realized he locked the keys in the car. So I spent the better part of the morning trying to unlock the car while he was stuck in the tent half naked. I in my pajama's now had help from fellow campers trying to get into the car while he was still, stuck in the tent. A prime example of my fear. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>MY PERSONAL NIGHTMARE RIGHT HERE</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Another boyfriend and I would often camp in bear country. I would make sure that the spot we picked was in the middle of the campground surrounded by people (So the bear would get them first). I would be terrified the whole time, watching for bears walking around. Terrified to walk to the bathroom alone, what if I saw one. Terrified to dump our dish water anywhere remotely close to our campspot. Dont want the bear to smell it. I was one happy girl if the campers next to us were party people and played loud music and partied late into the night. I believed it kept the bears away. Problem is, I was never relaxed. Bears are always on my mind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now my Grandfather, he had instilled the fear in me quite early. He would always tell us kids that sleeping in tents we were like wontons for the bears to just drag away into the bush. Really Grandpa? Thanks. Now that thought never left my head, obviously. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnq3irRjEiUwl9ju-H6ls6txKMkQePzIiL99zMs7hVG-ISVld_DVLxCpplNkEkKO9BJbaX6TQWFJJRds6EvfOJ2YB78JZUqDPwadJxEMl8gul-DQIeFibDv9jTMA68YWB_ErIpFcEizXA/s1600/Bear-Joke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="534" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnq3irRjEiUwl9ju-H6ls6txKMkQePzIiL99zMs7hVG-ISVld_DVLxCpplNkEkKO9BJbaX6TQWFJJRds6EvfOJ2YB78JZUqDPwadJxEMl8gul-DQIeFibDv9jTMA68YWB_ErIpFcEizXA/s640/Bear-Joke.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The only person in the world I feel safe camping with is my Grandfather. There is just something about him that makes you feel safe. Be it the fact that he is one tough man and has seen alot in his day. He has seen more bears than I would care to imagine. He knows the bush more than anyone I know. Being a full blooded native man he grew up in the bush, hunting for food for his 12 children. Bears were just a part of it. I have heard the story many times through my life and never tire of hearing it. The time my Grandfather killed a bear. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjON6UEpKmO7KUhPBtfrJMliNqJagSnewjjYy3vTWJnb2DTpkovNZWf2ELiSAasKm0mT9xzItjHBN5FC87unWs8zoJwfagfRGML4FwRjbGyFR43D9q50JfjQ4KS-AVeoxNCC8GNg1PLyDM/s1600/mazzy-lost-alaska-bear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjON6UEpKmO7KUhPBtfrJMliNqJagSnewjjYy3vTWJnb2DTpkovNZWf2ELiSAasKm0mT9xzItjHBN5FC87unWs8zoJwfagfRGML4FwRjbGyFR43D9q50JfjQ4KS-AVeoxNCC8GNg1PLyDM/s640/mazzy-lost-alaska-bear.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My Granfather and his brother were walking in Salmon creek through the bush, he said his brother Vincent was about 13 at the time. He said they were hunting and now coming back they were all out of bullets. He said up on the side hill there was a big Brown Bear. He yelled at the bear and it came after him. He told his brother to climb a tree. He said and he laughs that his brother climbed a tree, a tree with no branches and he said he climbed it as fast as a squirrel. He had his sled dogs with him and he told his lead dog to go after the bear. The only thing he had to protect them with was his axe. He says he always kept it razor sharp. As his dog went after the bear it would bite it and the bear would turn towards the dog. He said the dog kept at it and when the dog bit and the bear turned my Grandfather got behind him and when the bear turned around he drove the axe straight through his head. He said he chopped his head off after that and told Vincent to come down. He said they were going to skin and eat the bear. I wish I could have a recording of him telling his story because he captivates you while he tells it. He said that the bear was still blinking and the tongue was still moving when he cut the head off. He says, I told my brother, see, the bear is still tasting us. As he was skinning the bear he said it felt like someone dumped ice cold water on him. The realization of it all. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPpg9Jk77CnNhEBo4_4NZlrnS86CXRWRj1V1_AOOVHx2gxu6bQ0sjR6_bdDP77CyfMv7q7hZJEkBP24bQpX_ntCVRtkMhMMz8g9p7UtF5JfSS2bflg0UpjJlBsE4QT9PbwDJU0c3Gk1E/s1600/alex1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPpg9Jk77CnNhEBo4_4NZlrnS86CXRWRj1V1_AOOVHx2gxu6bQ0sjR6_bdDP77CyfMv7q7hZJEkBP24bQpX_ntCVRtkMhMMz8g9p7UtF5JfSS2bflg0UpjJlBsE4QT9PbwDJU0c3Gk1E/s640/alex1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A PHOTO OF MY GRANDFATHER AS A YOUNG MAN</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now my Grandfather is not scared of bears. He always tells me if you dont bother bears they will leave you alone. He has killed a few more in his time but always the ones after this with a gun, and because they were coming after him. He told me today, never holler at a bear, they will come after you. He said everytime a bear came at him he hollered at it. I used to feel safe in a car, he laughed at me alot. He said they can open it up like a tin can. Thanks again Grandpa. But tis true. They are huge and damn strong. When you are in their territory they are boss. So I love to camp, but I cannot take my Granfather with me everytime ;)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I wish I could though, he is badass!!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdcvVi1JqiNWXoQEF0EGGSybgGHFCY25E-Q-_cqP6JRMis39-l3_Z7yPSPopObu2cYYXCX2CuYV6YZX3ecLNFiCCCrZrhuqNVe6kd0y10qomgwXNoi4X_Iosvfav3BhzyKA83uepcp8Q/s1600/FullSizeRender+%252810%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdcvVi1JqiNWXoQEF0EGGSybgGHFCY25E-Q-_cqP6JRMis39-l3_Z7yPSPopObu2cYYXCX2CuYV6YZX3ecLNFiCCCrZrhuqNVe6kd0y10qomgwXNoi4X_Iosvfav3BhzyKA83uepcp8Q/s640/FullSizeRender+%252810%2529.jpg" width="482" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo courtesy of Janice Julseth</span></td></tr>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-54152512288975196572015-06-11T21:13:00.001-07:002015-06-11T21:17:12.814-07:00Paint the city blue<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">June 8th 2015... Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Edmonton Police go about their day as always. Most of us oblivious to what goes on in their world. I for one have no clue. Not until this day did I even think about a hate crimes unit. It is a world you turn over to the strong and brave ones who dedicate their lives to help others.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I think what sits with me most is I too have small children. To leave them behind is my worst nightmare. I am sure it is any parents worst nightmare. I have often worried about leaving my children behind and the pain I feel about them not knowing who I was, how much I loved them, remembering me for me, not through photo's.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">As I drove home tonight driving past the ribbons of blue I thought about it more... This woman's life has changed forever. Her children's lives have changed forever. They lost their father, she lost her husband, someone out there lost their son and we as a city lost a brave man.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_eIYBBMBqkG9FyPocpeqgB_0Loar_87JLFjIzOQE83Y79Wzq1HkLbjN8jO1lvh3e4l8BNHjq0EEfjWEFQktyWajv9cqPU3jNExBiFLXKJMwMOLKgSwRurH2mHaswQLnDlOtnjiAGaYoA/s1600/06-10-ribbons3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_eIYBBMBqkG9FyPocpeqgB_0Loar_87JLFjIzOQE83Y79Wzq1HkLbjN8jO1lvh3e4l8BNHjq0EEfjWEFQktyWajv9cqPU3jNExBiFLXKJMwMOLKgSwRurH2mHaswQLnDlOtnjiAGaYoA/s640/06-10-ribbons3.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">There are so many tragedies around the world it is hard to comprehend. I personally have stopped reading the news, I no longer watch the news on tv. Informative, yes, depressing... absolutely!! The problem with me is that it sticks with me. As a person who suffers from anxiety I worry all the time. So hearing and reading about disaster and tragedy doesn't bode well for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What rolls around in my head tonight is...... The world moves on. I will go to work tomorrow, most of you reading this will go about your daily lives... But this family.... Their world has come to a complete stop. My heart can only imagine the pain, can only imagine the loss, the hurt. I know myself, I would be angry, angry that everyone around me moves about continuing while I suffer in insurmountable pain. Its not fair. None of it. I would be angry thinking that people will move on and people will forget and I will be left....standing still.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I did not know Const. Daniel Woodall, I do not know his wife. But I want to say.... </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I will not forget!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">As a Mother and a Wife myself, I am sharing this Go Fund me account set up for his family</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">You can donate <a href="http://www.gofundme.com/cstdanielwoodall" target="_blank">Here</a></span></div>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-27037732750842441542015-06-10T21:17:00.001-07:002015-06-17T10:26:39.383-07:00Weight loss with a side of cake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJvax4L7x4TxAMXO-vOvcNXrNDhj-0eoRHqWC7nv34NPuAPZ6PCwax27kgdG_ejVcsf6pyWN0e03s0PvlnPJ8uTTTnJeVDX0-xBVIVP-G1XaHPhr3WI1jLCdYjzurTBcZDpBg7jNfxH4/s1600/funny-dog-pictures-dieting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJvax4L7x4TxAMXO-vOvcNXrNDhj-0eoRHqWC7nv34NPuAPZ6PCwax27kgdG_ejVcsf6pyWN0e03s0PvlnPJ8uTTTnJeVDX0-xBVIVP-G1XaHPhr3WI1jLCdYjzurTBcZDpBg7jNfxH4/s640/funny-dog-pictures-dieting.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Like many of my posts lately I wonder.... Damn, should I even write this? I mean, do I really want people to know.... the real me? Ahhh what the hell right I have already opened Pandora's box with all my other posts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have struggled with weight my whole life. Ugh, who hasn't is my thoughts. If you haven't, let me make you sad and stuff some cheeseburgers down your throat. Anyways..... My struggle. I have never been a skinny girl but I also have never been obese, however since I gave birth to my two daughters I never lost the weight. When I met my husband I felt I was at a great weight and I was healthy. We became comfortable and someone once told me, when you are comfortable and happy you get fat like cats do. So..... I guess I am a cat because that is exactly what happened. We both gained weight. Not uncontrollable weight but here it was, the result of cuddling on the couch eating whatever we wanted. Then baby number 1 came along.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I gained weight with my first daughter. I would say I gained a good 30lbs. I was never comfortable with this weight gain, although I DESPISE exercising and eating super healthy was never my forte. So the weight stayed with me. I would try to work on it here and there but I never gave it my all to make the real effort. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2rNTvroQkvtIcqULa0cJtIeRjI8goEIBTG6jG-6tExpjky7qmr16zCzApoVQfZBRjFRGWP98DqFYgDhScnnYUN7KIgGcw7-eanAO_0padV-7EAu3MZq_HPnIiAuTn_-noLNefcDQNMo/s1600/1315866438227_8092719.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs2rNTvroQkvtIcqULa0cJtIeRjI8goEIBTG6jG-6tExpjky7qmr16zCzApoVQfZBRjFRGWP98DqFYgDhScnnYUN7KIgGcw7-eanAO_0padV-7EAu3MZq_HPnIiAuTn_-noLNefcDQNMo/s640/1315866438227_8092719.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Baby number 2 here we come. I maintained my weight with baby number two and did not gain a whole lot more. After my second daughter was born I struggled with post partum depression and if anyone has been through it they will know, you can hardly get up to clean your house let alone work your ass off to get your body back in shape, so the weight, yup, you guessed it, still here, that bastard. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This past March 2015 I recovered from my depression. I made it out! So now a few months later, I can actually look at losing the weight as I am not in my deep dark hole. Problem is..... I am back where I started. I DESPISE exercising and I love to eat. What to do, what to do? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I considered Weight Watchers. But I hated being on that counting what you eat. Pain in the ass!!! My husband also hated it (because of course I made him do it with me). I considered the Dukan diet. I can eat a week of pure protein and cut out breads... Ok, who am I kidding. I would be charged with breaking and entering of a Bakery. That was out. . . . </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So I have been thinking about it. What will work for me? I can eat healthy. But its the so many calories in and so many out that I have no idea what they are. The second I think diet, I am already thinking of McDonalds drive thru. Restricting myself doesnt pay off, I have never been one for not being able to do something. If I am not supposed to do it, damn rights im gonna do it. So cutting out bad foods altogether, never works for me. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30xptVE0gY-tk4lxZ5AyBIf3cw7-hwcf2ckvqkWXP53EcwWUzDc9SnmDwvjYEGwqWT96ms4oSoIb-0aMMjCG5_er7Z9yIMqPx0xqgZ7c6Y5ELLA8sHVGHfLgJluoyjc4jhdwQe0PZYgQ/s1600/tumblr_m4i53b9m7G1qzkbzs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30xptVE0gY-tk4lxZ5AyBIf3cw7-hwcf2ckvqkWXP53EcwWUzDc9SnmDwvjYEGwqWT96ms4oSoIb-0aMMjCG5_er7Z9yIMqPx0xqgZ7c6Y5ELLA8sHVGHfLgJluoyjc4jhdwQe0PZYgQ/s640/tumblr_m4i53b9m7G1qzkbzs.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So lately I have been really thinking about it seriously, what should I do? What should we do, as a family? I have thought about getting up and doing Yoga before work, but who is kidding who here. Yoga or sleep. I am sorry to the skinny girl begging to come out, sleep has won, yet again. So, there we have it, Yoga will not happen, at least before work. I have yet to even try it when I get home after work with two little girls running around. I am sure they will be climbing all over me as I attempt a plank or downward dog. The thought isnt pleasant that is for sure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So something has to give. I decided the other day, you know what, I used to jog before I met my husband. I used to get up at 5:30am to do that. I can do that again (not at 5:30 though, kill me now). So I said, ok, after work we will get the girls ready and us ready and before dinner we will go out to jog. Neither me or my husband was a big fan of this plan. I sure as hell dont want to exercise after I worked a full day. No sir, and with two kids in tow. But, off we went. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">There is a school in the city with a great running track. This is where I used to go. We got there and there was some sort of event going on. They were obviously using the track and we could not go. My mind, being me, instantly switched to, well thats it, we cant go (knowing full well that there are other places, but THIS is the one I wanted to go to) now that it is not an option, jogging....out! This is how quick my mind will change, my will power I think he lost in a fight long ago and never came back cause I havent seen that "will" in years. I turned that vehicle around and I thought, ok... thats it. WE START TOMORROW!!! Where did we end up you ask? At another track? At a field? Anywhere we could walk or jog? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Nope, my mind was done and made up, we were starting tomorrow. We went for dinner. This is classic me!!!! My poor husband as he has no choice when this mind is made up for it is a fierce one to compete with. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So.... Will I start tomorrow....? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Sigh.... I sure hope so. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I guess if not tomorrow, there is always Monday to start right? ;)</span></div>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-29646071208003407252015-06-08T21:10:00.002-07:002015-06-17T10:27:27.142-07:00Big or Aidan, that is the question<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5elHJ33V2-zhzYdDxP70xMx_3SNq8kkjryeveMZna4SeTVDKpAX8dgFotdu-Sw2nhUXRmPA5G7hEkPmsNbODg6PhAU6lA3SF1nhceqfexl-Sc01nf2oMubrthpknVprPqetlJ-nTNuRI/s1600/sex-and-the-city-wallpaper-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5elHJ33V2-zhzYdDxP70xMx_3SNq8kkjryeveMZna4SeTVDKpAX8dgFotdu-Sw2nhUXRmPA5G7hEkPmsNbODg6PhAU6lA3SF1nhceqfexl-Sc01nf2oMubrthpknVprPqetlJ-nTNuRI/s640/sex-and-the-city-wallpaper-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The first year my husband and I were together he bought me the box set of Sex and the City. Its a beauty in the pink velvet case. I loved it. I still love it. I have watched it countless times over and over, in sequence and in random order. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I overthink every show I watch. I can not help it. It must come naturally to me to overthink things as I watch them. Now before you read further yes I am aware I am speaking of a fictional show. These are my thoughts on it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Watching it the other day something struck me. Why Big? What is so special about him? I mean really. Sure he has the money, but when you think about it, it took him 10 years to come around. 10 YEARS!!! How many of us women would have held on that long? I cant say many of us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Team Big vs Team Aidan</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">From the moment Carrie met Big you could see he wasn't the right one. If he was interested in her he would have made a move. But instead he keeps bumping into her with other women on his arm. Even the night they went on their first date he brought a friend along. Red flags anyone. I think so.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Big brought out the worst in Carrie. She was always down when she was with him, anxious and sad. Begging for love from someone who was not ready to commit. Leaving to Paris without even discussing it with her? I mean, who does that? Obviously not the one you want to be with the rest of your life. She put herself last when she was with him. You know when you end up doing that in a relationship that you are putting too much in and the other is just taking. It never works. Do we all remember that he was married twice? That he cheated on his second wife WITH Carrie... I dont know about you, but I wouldnt want to start off a relationship with someone who cheated. Would they do it again? Seems to be the pattern. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Aidan, the classic sweetheart. He was a hopeless romantic from the start. Wanting to get to know Carrie, wanting to develop a relationship. He was genuinely sweet. There were no other girls to compete with there were no commitment issues. He was handy, cute and romantic. He WANTED to marry her, build a life with her. What more could a girl want?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I couldnt help but wonder ;)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Are women really attracted to the "bad boy"?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What is it about them that draws us in? Is it their wild nature that us as a woman believe we can tame? The excitement of the chase? I read somewhere that if you had everything you wanted you still would not be happy, for happiness is the result of working towards something and achieving it. You need that drive in your life to keep you going. Is this where she steered off course? Because lets face it, Aidan was the one. He was the perfect man. I was definately Team Aidan. He was sooo much cuter. Am I right or am I right?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">If Carrie and Big were a real life couple, this would not end in a happily ever after. I dont believe for one second that he is the one for her. After 10 years of being put on the back burner in a relationship he changes? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The happily ever after was meant to be with Aidan.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The kiss in Abu Dhabi was the clincher. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">He is the one! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2SSbXCc3ZoCGXfjVz4BG2IT3VIdKAfxtr-BH7tAri6OITSZJj4NRfyEP6L6sViuiNdD25ttXSj8Rs5W937sQfvNfD-gXNJRvmiVHTCpJKLZdiybCpawTjVXkv9Rmh5_5ZOk-T-CjIpc/s1600/Here-we-have-Aidan-Carrie-Abu-Dhabi-bazaar-again.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2SSbXCc3ZoCGXfjVz4BG2IT3VIdKAfxtr-BH7tAri6OITSZJj4NRfyEP6L6sViuiNdD25ttXSj8Rs5W937sQfvNfD-gXNJRvmiVHTCpJKLZdiybCpawTjVXkv9Rmh5_5ZOk-T-CjIpc/s640/Here-we-have-Aidan-Carrie-Abu-Dhabi-bazaar-again.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">What are your thoughts? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Are there Team Big's out there? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have I missed something with Big that others havent?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">HAVE YOU SEEN MY LAST POST? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">CLICK <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/06/the-mommy-rant.html" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></div>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-39676335753841946322015-06-06T21:11:00.002-07:002015-06-17T10:42:05.005-07:00The Mommy Rant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I guess lets get this out of the way first. I love my children. To the core. They are my life, my everything, I would give my life for them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">In saying that. They drive me fuckin crazy!!! They are 2 and 4, yes such a blissful age. The fights between the two girls have started. Why they have to fight over the stupidest of things I will never know. The mind of a child is a wondrous thing. She took my pony, she pulled my hair, she took my spot she stole my cookie. On and on and on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now I know that having children, this is life. I cannot wait until these little ones are old enough to be a little more self sufficient. Oh I dream of the day. My day pretty much sounds like this</span></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">MOMMY</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Can I have milk?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I want toast</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I dont want my cereal</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">MOMMY</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Can I have your cereal</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I want more toast (I have finally sat down to eat)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Ellie took my toast</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">MOMMY</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I want to watch Ponies</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Some fighting and crying</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I want a drink</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">MOMMY</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I need you to wipe my bum</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Baby brings me her diaper and wipes (At this point I tell her, if you are bringing me this, its time to use the potty!)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">MOMMY</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Inaudible crying</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Im hungry</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I want to color - Uncaps all the felts.......Im done</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">MOMMY</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I want to play playdoh - All over the table and floor in little bits.... Im done</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Read me a book</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Where is grandma?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">MOMMY</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I dont wanna eat dinner</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Ellie stole my toy</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Crying</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">MOMMY</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">I dont want to go to bed</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">Crying</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">MOMMY</span></li>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This my friends is what they should have printed on condom packages. Its a wonder I don't drink. But I do drink coffee. And tons of it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Being a stay at home mom was never in the cards for me. Its a hard job. Working full time, I can say in all out honesty that being a stay at home mom is harder than going to work everyday. I choose to go to work. I think very highly of the ones who are stay at home moms. When I stay at home on the weekend with these little monsters I am WIPED OUT!!! Going to work is getting a break</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I long for the days when wiping of bums is behind me. The days where if you are thirsty you can pour your own drink without pouring it all over the floor. If you are hungry than you can make your own snack. However, I am sure with each age comes new difficulties. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I love being a mom. But some days I have to rant. Don't we all? It isn't all sunshine and rainbows. We have our days. We have wonderful days. These girls light up my life like no other. But they also turn my hair grey faster than the speed of light. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">How they can destroy a room in two hours is mind boggling to me. I took a nap when my husband came home today. I woke up and it was like a tornado hit the livingroom. I have never been one for clutter, I will never have that china cabinet with all the shit in it, because it looks messy to me. I dont like bookshelves because they look messy to me. I like things in their place and things tidy..... </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My life is no longer a tidy organized place. I live amongst disarray and destruction named Abby and Ellie</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Of course I know there will come a day I will miss these days. I will long for my little loud children needing my help and destroying my house. But for now, I deserve my Mommy rant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">They are little buggers these two.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> But they are my little buggers, and I love em. </span></div>
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<div align="center"><a href="http://www.icklepickleslife.co.uk" title="The Little Life of Ickle Pickle"><img src="http://i1295.photobucket.com/albums/b635/icklepicklex/myfavourite%20post%20badge_zpsow9fi2oz.jpg" alt="The Little Life of Ickle Pickle" style="border:none;" /></a></div>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-228344851110138492015-06-05T22:18:00.001-07:002015-06-08T10:18:56.952-07:00When Italy and Canada Collide<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My husband moved from Italy to Canada to be with me 6 years ago. During this time we have had to learn to adjust to each others differences. As he lay beside me tonight my mind began to wander about how different our cultures are. Since he came here six years ago he has taken me to Italy 3 times. We sure live different all right. I love it though, being with him has sure been an adventure. Here are some of the things I find amusing or interesting about him, me, Canada and Italy.</span><br />
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<li><b style="font-size: xx-large;">Italians do not take off their shoes in their house.</b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> The first time he came here it was December and tons of snow here in Canada. He tromped right into my place with his big boots and I thought.... What is this person doing??? Take off your shoes!! We laugh about it now</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Italians warm up their milk in the morning for breakfast</b>. Canadians do not. </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>While peanut butter stocks our shelves here in Canada, it is nowhere to be seen in Italy.</b> I watched my husband try peanut butter for the first time in his life. I gave him a spoon and he dug in. I smile at the thought :) Each time we have traveled back to Italy, peanut butter was in our suitcase for friends and family.</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>They do not eat the same breakfast items as us in Italy.</b> The first time I told him I was eating an Egg Mcmuffin from McDonalds for breakfast via msn (ya were a little dated here) he told me SICK!! Egg meat and cheese on a bun for breakfast? When I went to Italy you ate dry cookies and put them in milk..... yup, thats it. I learned to love it actually. </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Chef Boyardee, Kraft Dinner, Alphaghetti are something Italians just dont know about</b> and truth be told it was funny for him to see it for the first time. He was completely repulsed. He will not eat any of it! I for one love Aphaghetti</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Going to a restaurant in Italy you do not get refills of your drinks.</b> Anywhere!</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>You do not get a glass of tap water when you go to a restaurant in Italy.</b> They have bottles of regular water and sparkling water on the tables. You pay for your water. </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>You do not get butter with your bread in Italy.</b> Sad but true, I am sure you can ask for it, but as for it coming with it, no sir. Nor do you get olive oil and vinegar. I think it is something we made up here and pretended was Italian.... Cause its not.</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>They pronounce words phonetically</b>. Things like USA they would say oooza. UFO - ooofo R.E.M - rrrrrem I laughed alot at this when we first met. </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Pizza here is an embarrassment to Pizza in Italy</b>. What are we thinking North America? I mean really?</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Coffee as we know it doesnt exist in Italy. </b>Yes.... seriously. Either learn to drink an Americano or an Espresso and learn quick coffee drinkers</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>All shops close from 12-4pm in Italy</b>. ALL...... so if you have jet lag and you like to sleep the day away, there goes your shopping time. </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Dinner time is soooo differnt in Canada and Italy. </b>Here in Canada it is normal to eat at 5:30-6pm. They start preparing or thinking about dinner at 8:30pm. I was dying of hunger. </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Their milk is not in the refrigerated part of the grocery store.</b> It sits on the shelves in square juice box containers. </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Italians drive crazy!!!</b> We went to Naples and this is how they drive</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>We here in Canada hug people when we see them</b>. Italy, they go in for a kiss kiss on the cheek. Me..... NO CLUE, so what do I do...hug. AWKWARD... You learn quickly</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Italians are LOUD</b>!!!!! Many many times I thought they were arguing. Nope... typical conversation</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>They really do talk with their hands</b>. My husband was knocking stuff off the table the first time I met him. I remember thinking, what is this guy doing lol</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Italians like to sit at a restaurant and bask in the company</b>. Canadians, meal is done, pack up, were outta here. My husband struggles with this one to this day, like..... Cant we sit for a bit. Me.... sit for what?? lol</span></li>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Now, there are many many differences. But these were my top ones. This one, this one is the best one. </span></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The pasta sauce. My god the pasta sauce</b>. We are doing it WRONG!!! This is how to make pasta sauce people. Try it, you will thank me!!!!</span></li>
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<b><u><span style="font-size: x-large;">RAGU</span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1/2lb of beef</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1/2lb of pork</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1 carrot</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1 onion</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1 celery </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1Tsp garlic</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Beef bouillon pkg</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1 bottle of Passata *use half only</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">(tomato sauce found in Italian store)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Mince carrot onion and celery. Put in pan with oil and sauté. Add garlic. Mix in meat and than tomato sauce. Add bouillon and mix all together. Top with water and bring to a boil. Turn down to simmer and simmer with the lid on for 2 hours. After the 2 hours take the lid off and simmer for another 30 min uncovered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">If you make the ragu, you absolutely must try this </span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-size: x-large;">LASAGNA</span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I used non pre cook noodles. I didn't mean to buy them however it is what I bought :)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Grease your pan. I used a 9x13. Take the béchamel and spoon a ladle full on the bottom. Spread your ragu to cover. I used approx another ladle full. Add a layer of noodles. *add a ladle of béchamel and than another of ragu amd sprinkle with Parmesan. Repeat this step* until you reach 5 layers. According to the box is should say how long to cook. Mine was 20 min at 425'. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Have you read my last post? Click <a href="http://abigaildaybyday.blogspot.ca/2015/06/i-wanna-see-you-be-brave.html" target="_blank">here</a></span></div>
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</script>MY MEDIUM JOURNEYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12545744363761205511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5339709641021275651.post-37359162892270822832015-06-02T21:56:00.001-07:002015-06-17T10:40:57.889-07:00I wanna see you be brave<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0OiHNEmYA963KSJRYQUE64LpjPxYAfMcO8MZF80yHzQPVwlSxV-t_ELqgDWLtBY_ybdLph0AZqx4OS-m1IIXn3MKZAu-HQIGzMkrUqIijrtctPDamjveSd1fCn2qT-T9FgaxznvF1o0/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="119" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0OiHNEmYA963KSJRYQUE64LpjPxYAfMcO8MZF80yHzQPVwlSxV-t_ELqgDWLtBY_ybdLph0AZqx4OS-m1IIXn3MKZAu-HQIGzMkrUqIijrtctPDamjveSd1fCn2qT-T9FgaxznvF1o0/s200/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">To write this post or not to....It is a question that has been rolling around in my head all day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">My last serious relationship before my husband lasted 7 years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Why talk about it now? For pity.... attention... to play the victim? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">No, not any of these. I have been thinking about it lately and why write it... I think I have a valid point in bringing it up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Judgement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">You always hear the saying "You don't judge someone until you walk in their shoes". I think this saying means nothing UNLESS you end up walking in that persons shoes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I am sure wherever you are in the world they have talk shows like they do here in North America. The kind where you watch a woman you talk about being in an abusive relationship and wonder, what are you doing you idiot, why are you staying? These were my thoughts when I used to watch the shows, when I watched these women. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">In my last relationship I changed my tune. I was that woman. I was that "idiot". </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I stayed in a relationship for 6.5 years longer than I should have. It started out with minor jealousy. Who are you getting ready for? Who are you putting makeup on for? Why are you painting your nails? For who? It should have been my first sign. But I was 22 I was naive, I figured, it will get better. It will get better.........</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I never fully realized until I was out of the relationship, how deep I was in. I think I was too quick to judge, too quick to assume that these women knew exactly what was going on and chose to turn a blind eye. Of course its that simple as an outsider. But when you are in it, when you are in deep, you don't see what is happening around you. You live it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">It never got better. As time went on it only got worse. I lived ready to fight. I was always ready for an argument. What I mean is that I knew something was coming, each day, every day. I would say, or do, or look at someone and that would be it. There would be a fight. After years of this I was ready. Anyone who knows me, knows that I don't just take it, I will fight back. Now we are not talking physically fight back, but I would defend myself to the end. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">This was a horrible trait I learned as a "survival method" so to speak with my ex. Unfortunately i</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">t has taken years for me to understand that with my husband, I don't have to be ready for a fight. He isn't my ex, nor has he ever come close to being him. I think in any abusive relationship you take away not only the mark it leaves on you but the defense mechanism you learned to live with to live day to day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">If I looked at someone who happened to be good looking, if I pulled up to a red light and looked at the person next to us in the car (god forbid it happen to be a good looking male) I would hear about it for damn sure. If I was 5 minutes late from work I HAD to explain why, if the car seat was moved in my car and it wasn't where he left it, I had to explain. I never owned a cell phone during this relationship, I refused. I didn't want it to be something where he could keep tabs on me. I didn't want to live looking at the ground, but I felt that this is how I should if I wanted to avoid a fight. So like I said, I fought back. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I never told my family. My sister somewhat knew but I never fully disclosed what I was living. I felt.... embarrassed. Ashamed. Was it partly my fault? I was staying. I think I was scared to leave. I was scared to be alone... I had never really been alone. He also scared me. He told me if I ever cheated on him he would burn the house down. I believed him. I once told my sister if something happens to me, it was him who did it. I was mortified at the thought of my family finding out what kind of a person he really was. When we would fight he would threaten to call my father and tell him what a horrible woman I was. I caved every time. Because I was a horrible woman? No, because I didn't want my father getting such a phone call, and than when we patch things up, having to explain to him who this psycho is that I am living with. I cant even begin to tell you how many phones were destroyed during this relationship. I was essentially protecting him from outing himself as the real person he was. I hated myself for that and I hated him. I felt that I went through that relationship loving and hating him in equal measure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I was scared to leave. I always thought it would be easier if I didn't live with him. I could just say, its over. But as the years went on and we bought a place together it became harder and harder and I knew in my heart I would stay. I figured, it is what it is. This is the cards I was dealt and I will settle. This is my life. I lived it. For 7 years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I wish I could have been stronger, I wish I was more brave. I wish I could have left sooner. But the reality is, I didn't. I couldn't. In the end, he was the one who cheated on me. He was the one who decided to leave me. I wish I could have said I was relieved, that I was thankful. But I cannot. I was utterly and completely devastated. I never saw it coming. He was such an advocate for anti cheating. How could this be happening? But it happened.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The events following him leaving have probably destroyed my soul. Only the closest really know what happened during the breakup. It has forever changed me and I will never be the same because of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I was never more heartbroken when he left. He left me in such a state that I can not believe another human being could do that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I spent the next year in complete turmoil. I rapidly lost weight, I cried every single day, sometimes curled up on the floor crying so hard I wanted</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"> to throw up. I was beyond broken....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I think my only saving grace was my family. I had no one else. During this relationship I had pushed all my friends away, he never liked any of my friends, so away they went. When it all crashed down I had no one. I spent every moment that I was not at work with my parents. From the time I got off work until I would go home for bed. I felt crazy, like I was living a nightmare. Alone... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">It was a hard year to get through to say the least. I think anyone who has truly been heartbroken can relate. But I got through</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Why did I write this? Because I think that people can be too quick to judge. It isn't as easy as one thinks to leave. I was too quick to judge, until I was there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">By no means do I play his victim. I do not see my self as one. I do not see myself as a victim of emotional abuse, I see myself who was a victim of circumstance. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I consider myself lucky... He left, i am out. I am thankful every day he left me. Because I know I wouldn't have left him. I would still be there today. It is a scary thought. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I wouldn't change it if I went back. It made me who I am today. I think a bad relationship can take pieces of you but NOT all of you. And the rest that is left is a stronger you. I would not be where I am today if the chain of events didn't lead me here. I wouldn't have met my husband, I wouldn't have two beautiful children. It had to happen to bring me here today. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">My hope is that if anyone is in this situation you find your brave, you find your strength. </span><br />
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