tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18452444179553838982024-03-14T10:59:52.255-04:00Desperately Searching for my Inner Mary PoppinsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.comBlogger340125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-78644055178700049222018-02-07T12:55:00.002-05:002018-02-07T12:55:47.751-05:00Dear Job Hunting ...Dear Job Hunting,<br />
<br />
I'm writing to inform you of my eagerness to disarm you. It appears you have mistaken me for a weak-minded individual who cannot stand the test of holding strong amongst a tedious and mostly disappointing process. In fact, I will conquer you, and it shall be brilliant.<br />
<br />
It also appears you have brought the thunder in regards to building the best resume the earth has ever seen or thus perish amongst the remaining resumes who lie in a pile of shame. It is my intent to see your thunder and bring a bit of lightning to the party, for I know there is a company out there that will see my resume and find it to be the most spectacular document they've ever read.<br />
<br />
Oh Job Hunting, I know you want to bring me merely shame and disappointment, but unfortunately for you I have only great anticipation with a side of gleaming hope, for Martin Luther King Jr. said,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope."</blockquote>
You may try to defeat this hope I have, but trust me, I will triumph.<br />
<br />
Plainly stated, Job Hunting, stop trying to bring me down. I have what it takes to win this war and I won't be brought down by all the negativity oozing from each email stating "We have found another candidate." I will know that wasn't the job I was meant to have, and I will move on! And I know you're all like ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5BHok9W4H8JaU-Li5rPrKiZo_iVWE2Agl_wet1FZaX4f36bHOBIINlnsFxuZbzqfMbME8IGIerJoZAe-8lupuXJVThwupBDODvJCMZd17gmIgOyDGHGjupG0eynEM8bfIiwLP5R8yGI/s1600/entry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="625" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5BHok9W4H8JaU-Li5rPrKiZo_iVWE2Agl_wet1FZaX4f36bHOBIINlnsFxuZbzqfMbME8IGIerJoZAe-8lupuXJVThwupBDODvJCMZd17gmIgOyDGHGjupG0eynEM8bfIiwLP5R8yGI/s320/entry.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
But I got this. I've been practicing these job qualifications for years. And there IS an employer out there who will see that and be impressed and want to hire me without even an interview (dream world). Needless to say, I'm not afraid of you, so you might as well give on trying to intimidate me.<br />
<br />
Why?<br />
<br />
Because I got this!<br />
<br />
Bring it!<br />
<br />
You will not win!<br />
<br />
I've got all the time in the world.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Job SeekerAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-62816531783500071922018-01-16T13:07:00.000-05:002018-01-16T13:32:19.921-05:00They Turned Teen ... I Wasn't Trained for Teen!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My week started out something like this ...</div>
<br />
Husband confiscates daughter's phone and, as we do from time to time, skims through her texts. We don't do it often, but we like to make sure she's not dealing drugs or selling scandalous videos and/or photos of herself online or what have you. Yes ... we're <i>those</i> parents. Sorry, not sorry.<br />
<br />
Sooooo ...<br />
<br />
Instead he finds a conversation between her and her boyfriend that goes something (and I mean I'm totally exaggerating for dramatic flare here) like this.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNi2ljilfiGRMm8SZuvYtamk96Be0kyra2Zy4298X9kOoy58iDwR0zp14k2ejyNfD0QExt8lbMpOk80uN6BCT_54QDGEGt0hRv3KfvoLacoYdTVOLbq6jX8Btz2ZWCIl2TZTlosCMpEc/s1600/NDY3Mzg4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNi2ljilfiGRMm8SZuvYtamk96Be0kyra2Zy4298X9kOoy58iDwR0zp14k2ejyNfD0QExt8lbMpOk80uN6BCT_54QDGEGt0hRv3KfvoLacoYdTVOLbq6jX8Btz2ZWCIl2TZTlosCMpEc/s400/NDY3Mzg4.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Now I actually chose not to read the real text messages after my husband gave me the gist of it, but from what I was told, this is how I interpreted it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm lame. I'm lazy.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This following a very large disagreement with my son a week earlier where, without saying it, he made it clear I'm not worth respecting.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Who are these kids?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I swear they're not mine. My kids don't act like this!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But they do.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And you want to know why?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Because they're teenagers!!!!!!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Teenagers declaring their individuality and their independence.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Who allowed this to happen? </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And just when you think it can't get any more frustrating, they do this ...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6n8P-L9JAfw16845HRMFCcRIOHZ5FRHmB8inQgFd-tm8Gn1Cs-JUEWzg3OdroiDeaz6oTzc41wVTJkhz2viR831iQ6ryJ0EgGI0_sSgJwq5Q0w95q20mkJnpiWzI33NH5lpvuMWyvkqY/s1600/IMG_8554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6n8P-L9JAfw16845HRMFCcRIOHZ5FRHmB8inQgFd-tm8Gn1Cs-JUEWzg3OdroiDeaz6oTzc41wVTJkhz2viR831iQ6ryJ0EgGI0_sSgJwq5Q0w95q20mkJnpiWzI33NH5lpvuMWyvkqY/s320/IMG_8554.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpRUa-mxVgmR8Q_nrZ5iUmM3gc4DP35VbLhII_fz4p79ekswvLtOXZw-vEUF7gOEDqLj0-SDrBRlF0gmtdwpSflI_xT6p_Fy3u7QPcGdH2cLPAUXC6o1gnpAYqxYKZH-EIOj9A9WGyE8/s1600/IMG_8691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpRUa-mxVgmR8Q_nrZ5iUmM3gc4DP35VbLhII_fz4p79ekswvLtOXZw-vEUF7gOEDqLj0-SDrBRlF0gmtdwpSflI_xT6p_Fy3u7QPcGdH2cLPAUXC6o1gnpAYqxYKZH-EIOj9A9WGyE8/s320/IMG_8691.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJc_-VopbdOBnGs4qP_9Duru5IbYj37G86VoWmcDWBDDFAjdcBjFpT_Wefet2PmhZOz03_axC7J2JRIjjHRbzxrlrUGoY6At7ZmLgymTkGqSlj_SSx3-YUy9fz77fG64q1ZoxussCWxGc/s1600/IMG_0227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJc_-VopbdOBnGs4qP_9Duru5IbYj37G86VoWmcDWBDDFAjdcBjFpT_Wefet2PmhZOz03_axC7J2JRIjjHRbzxrlrUGoY6At7ZmLgymTkGqSlj_SSx3-YUy9fz77fG64q1ZoxussCWxGc/s320/IMG_0227.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They just keep turning more teenagerish!!! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And then ...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></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/AVvXsEj9GHz0QeaXDavKWMPvIcy_N5tuTxKbEV3A26Ldht-yp2c4h2ZHeozP-KBu_t9yNtYCoqv5hr6QGv6_y9ezWIB93VAkOwZyUJXIzbpJkfGzNkT-Uz6b43bI92UBvycqD95cx7nzSJeSyz0/s1600/IMG_8657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9GHz0QeaXDavKWMPvIcy_N5tuTxKbEV3A26Ldht-yp2c4h2ZHeozP-KBu_t9yNtYCoqv5hr6QGv6_y9ezWIB93VAkOwZyUJXIzbpJkfGzNkT-Uz6b43bI92UBvycqD95cx7nzSJeSyz0/s320/IMG_8657.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They get their permit!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And then ...<br />
<br />
<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/AVvXsEgCmHgKThkGi0DgBcea8Qva6thOspwPsX0hzhY-AfBFa_Kzy_KbzA54yaHjLSMYl-T1CEcumUOSB-4NoT9sCxb4p03mUwj5W84CU2NihfzR9voXyom6Kd_BC6wB4mgpEEH3dManoOz9SDA/s1600/IMG_8749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCmHgKThkGi0DgBcea8Qva6thOspwPsX0hzhY-AfBFa_Kzy_KbzA54yaHjLSMYl-T1CEcumUOSB-4NoT9sCxb4p03mUwj5W84CU2NihfzR9voXyom6Kd_BC6wB4mgpEEH3dManoOz9SDA/s320/IMG_8749.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They get a checking account and use their debit card for the first time!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
And then and then and then ...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></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/AVvXsEgyXuQJImeOiZ-whj_TSPPVH8JZxX-z6Mw-qk6fTqStYvgK_DZSRwDKM9TsruMLrf_CWwSAlbFLqPVzWYKEwDTorkQYozl8NQZdI-yRrSJKqL4lQi4xRJ4krnaCSi3xpbrD5wU23s_NO54/s1600/IMG_0164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyXuQJImeOiZ-whj_TSPPVH8JZxX-z6Mw-qk6fTqStYvgK_DZSRwDKM9TsruMLrf_CWwSAlbFLqPVzWYKEwDTorkQYozl8NQZdI-yRrSJKqL4lQi4xRJ4krnaCSi3xpbrD5wU23s_NO54/s320/IMG_0164.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They get classy shoes for big events.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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/AVvXsEiZc2SI-RmHPvOkbEqeBvmlxVyOMprXGdsrj1xzvodTehzGL954AW0KQnRFSs-jhy8w8N5_hFYGc2P1Bt_EWcp1Egne2kshoVsvrq6DpdacKedBppTb5GuGrLyFanRYGVOu5BFCC2t2QMw/s1600/IMG_0166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZc2SI-RmHPvOkbEqeBvmlxVyOMprXGdsrj1xzvodTehzGL954AW0KQnRFSs-jhy8w8N5_hFYGc2P1Bt_EWcp1Egne2kshoVsvrq6DpdacKedBppTb5GuGrLyFanRYGVOu5BFCC2t2QMw/s320/IMG_0166.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They learn how to tie a tie for the first time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEhs6sNA_7vunQahqbAvU-DXDEoI01ieEMllRHp78FafrOkSxY9C7bMT3PGmYeWvcuEBKIcfe3KBJREEVxUVcROU8iCnyJedyQBobfWYZP6vNNzJQcfIMAxrsftwX6DecZfCU1mAgvHPKOg/s1600/IMG_0202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6sNA_7vunQahqbAvU-DXDEoI01ieEMllRHp78FafrOkSxY9C7bMT3PGmYeWvcuEBKIcfe3KBJREEVxUVcROU8iCnyJedyQBobfWYZP6vNNzJQcfIMAxrsftwX6DecZfCU1mAgvHPKOg/s320/IMG_0202.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They get new friends.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEhcig8kBDYDE8Y6jqbgnmWQ4ljANMp0BLXbNTw3tEQfm7S5aDW9NXI7LaRWOf7wPiz1uK1HpnuyehqxCioT8Q-mNd6sT8dOc1PrJxZWrwMRqkGgtnNRkm89Xt780TbF44n_hLR6AzAV6_Q/s1600/IMG_0191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcig8kBDYDE8Y6jqbgnmWQ4ljANMp0BLXbNTw3tEQfm7S5aDW9NXI7LaRWOf7wPiz1uK1HpnuyehqxCioT8Q-mNd6sT8dOc1PrJxZWrwMRqkGgtnNRkm89Xt780TbF44n_hLR6AzAV6_Q/s320/IMG_0191.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They get significant others!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEjniaghR1So9Eb029T172RK2ICma1tOrhk4KAzdIG6Xh2EHY1pQsVD8W61q_mVGc_5tORfelJ4qsv6XKst_YkO4rAG6m16CwVA8NT9mQUc-K6C62idSTy5ooNUZVtUwTApbDB7_nxnXhDk/s1600/IMG_0185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjniaghR1So9Eb029T172RK2ICma1tOrhk4KAzdIG6Xh2EHY1pQsVD8W61q_mVGc_5tORfelJ4qsv6XKst_YkO4rAG6m16CwVA8NT9mQUc-K6C62idSTy5ooNUZVtUwTApbDB7_nxnXhDk/s320/IMG_0185.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They go to homecoming!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEi8R_rI76QLdgFMcnRHNljbgHefdL_C6nhOszbk6S-nbx_fRXg-YIPTyPgfZhLGcs6pa-w8n78rEcld-M4oKoVb6BakOvQ6fz9KchDNqyuqdgrpOWDX3VKlx462jbvyVYXPaybSvH0I9t0/s1600/IMG_0182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8R_rI76QLdgFMcnRHNljbgHefdL_C6nhOszbk6S-nbx_fRXg-YIPTyPgfZhLGcs6pa-w8n78rEcld-M4oKoVb6BakOvQ6fz9KchDNqyuqdgrpOWDX3VKlx462jbvyVYXPaybSvH0I9t0/s320/IMG_0182.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They get handsome!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEjL9OXv12LeuULu5fYab7lZpWIeSguyiFb9zD9s5uk2Uh11n-f5f2-TOThw69eWlnxyeGev3U-QitprFhN5WIExAvDvkeTNPnTAjagW-uKExykbGrvt6ola2IKI5LQnDlEmMoOkE3iTigQ/s1600/IMG_0175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL9OXv12LeuULu5fYab7lZpWIeSguyiFb9zD9s5uk2Uh11n-f5f2-TOThw69eWlnxyeGev3U-QitprFhN5WIExAvDvkeTNPnTAjagW-uKExykbGrvt6ola2IKI5LQnDlEmMoOkE3iTigQ/s320/IMG_0175.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They get pretty ... and pretty goofy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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/AVvXsEiVDeGVBpjh8BSsHs2uMvzutXICUOd0cq5RtpGA42kBu8kF5_ECaAns7uCsZ-rs92wHIxaYwZ5rRHJd2FzfCDZna37UyICdf4_gM2qDEjdZ4asyI2LS_4ocFF8QV3G7HdXDlZeKBGKlwCA/s1600/IMG_0211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDeGVBpjh8BSsHs2uMvzutXICUOd0cq5RtpGA42kBu8kF5_ECaAns7uCsZ-rs92wHIxaYwZ5rRHJd2FzfCDZna37UyICdf4_gM2qDEjdZ4asyI2LS_4ocFF8QV3G7HdXDlZeKBGKlwCA/s320/IMG_0211.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No seriously, they get pretty!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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/AVvXsEha7UoyuFxBGgwnotqwSD7roLPECwOS-Fz1ETuC5EAbEgl2smCYTYI9LDdU29sVcvnS_gGMWyTTXyg3NwpGcGbrm0oKGtDst2VHpluj_fWOq6o19QhsytNTtti8yeV3RrLEZj5kDgsD4tY/s1600/IMG_0270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7UoyuFxBGgwnotqwSD7roLPECwOS-Fz1ETuC5EAbEgl2smCYTYI9LDdU29sVcvnS_gGMWyTTXyg3NwpGcGbrm0oKGtDst2VHpluj_fWOq6o19QhsytNTtti8yeV3RrLEZj5kDgsD4tY/s320/IMG_0270.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They pick out their own Christmas trees, Charlie Brown style.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEiE2M16MnvcbFLPe1ZI49ImUMdTS6QjZeV_NAjjlabPkm1wLk1s16JKLwrJV4FEyFHLLBtnfICdyTsLAJ5QowSc_COPDcQ2-BZG1tZjbgFie_WDfV82EaqYZsSHRMakjuHx5WGyo6nKS9Y/s1600/C16FF363-557B-47AA-8BF0-455094FFFBD2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE2M16MnvcbFLPe1ZI49ImUMdTS6QjZeV_NAjjlabPkm1wLk1s16JKLwrJV4FEyFHLLBtnfICdyTsLAJ5QowSc_COPDcQ2-BZG1tZjbgFie_WDfV82EaqYZsSHRMakjuHx5WGyo6nKS9Y/s320/C16FF363-557B-47AA-8BF0-455094FFFBD2.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They take care of robot babies for the weekend.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></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/AVvXsEhXTg0QlsJgI8AOTd5LtBBm73WpP13se4hprXURHVLyV6wAoKJIB55OHfgcvhwK-9fJzzEqKsRKB-igHPYn-JugQQ1F2k9ig9FW46r6FGZu_2ye2pJuu33FM74UfFJ39sqKMrUyz4VhFBA/s1600/IMG_8847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXTg0QlsJgI8AOTd5LtBBm73WpP13se4hprXURHVLyV6wAoKJIB55OHfgcvhwK-9fJzzEqKsRKB-igHPYn-JugQQ1F2k9ig9FW46r6FGZu_2ye2pJuu33FM74UfFJ39sqKMrUyz4VhFBA/s320/IMG_8847.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They fail to act classy on a regular basis.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEgaUQrpRAS80FtkRK9DG2DSX-ecfqORnWu6_hRVyNU3OJoxIENFvct8bGfGXEmk3YB34xcbaUmiXb84QO0y7JFH08YS5vqwcIq7zT6U1nL8F4e2mmmsW2E8CMiMFbLyq8Mx9-TMSnG-FDo/s1600/D0486FC3-7C7C-44FF-A7DC-A4AAECB3E178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUQrpRAS80FtkRK9DG2DSX-ecfqORnWu6_hRVyNU3OJoxIENFvct8bGfGXEmk3YB34xcbaUmiXb84QO0y7JFH08YS5vqwcIq7zT6U1nL8F4e2mmmsW2E8CMiMFbLyq8Mx9-TMSnG-FDo/s320/D0486FC3-7C7C-44FF-A7DC-A4AAECB3E178.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They shoot rockets for sport.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEjlWowwGmJl566G5B0uPby8mBodBCdsIKZXr530fBeuOnTsnvaALagcQznFp8EfhHWRSLFfkX5Mbx6HUv2gd5kI9PcRbukz_r71ujTEE0MA9klB0u9imdQbPFJbMPp7inbM9Xwe2S3MYDw/s1600/IMG_8819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWowwGmJl566G5B0uPby8mBodBCdsIKZXr530fBeuOnTsnvaALagcQznFp8EfhHWRSLFfkX5Mbx6HUv2gd5kI9PcRbukz_r71ujTEE0MA9klB0u9imdQbPFJbMPp7inbM9Xwe2S3MYDw/s320/IMG_8819.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They photobomb what could be good selfies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEiqi37HW9ufMpiH1ZzcW0YJQQ7xLC2R0b3Hg1kI3Uey6L9tdEm-UKwBwPtc1xiaAio1Cjps9RhRCxbtFwB-KS3ppvgyjvDpSQDsyh0pgr69GTj8sVKa3ROpIMIqSgDlFpeDCcr66ZuQy8E/s1600/IMG_8504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqi37HW9ufMpiH1ZzcW0YJQQ7xLC2R0b3Hg1kI3Uey6L9tdEm-UKwBwPtc1xiaAio1Cjps9RhRCxbtFwB-KS3ppvgyjvDpSQDsyh0pgr69GTj8sVKa3ROpIMIqSgDlFpeDCcr66ZuQy8E/s320/IMG_8504.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They make taking selfies with them impossible</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEhCohWf-KCvLiDkoq0DsnrhuF5ny9SClMZw6QT-r37PYXyTbj7x-vVnruw2aIFfN8AaTJA3f5-6nzY7tTuVwJB210_gENw_YPVx7OhOX8KxiAItBUALYzkdwtzH6H2k804AvmJYB6AEKUs/s1600/IMG_8904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCohWf-KCvLiDkoq0DsnrhuF5ny9SClMZw6QT-r37PYXyTbj7x-vVnruw2aIFfN8AaTJA3f5-6nzY7tTuVwJB210_gENw_YPVx7OhOX8KxiAItBUALYzkdwtzH6H2k804AvmJYB6AEKUs/s320/IMG_8904.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They make lifelong friends despite long distances.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They can be insanely impossible yet amazing all at the same time. I love watching these milestones, but what about in between?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
What about those days where they think I'm a monster covered in Jell-o? Which are a plenty during these wonderful teen years!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I KNOW my kids don't hate me ALL the time. Apologies WERE made and the world was set right again. But still, I know they'll dislike me again soon enough. I'm the mom. And for some reason or another, dads are inherently cool and loved and can do no wrong when it comes to teenagers, while moms on the other hand are evil and heartless and can never be as cool as dad. It's a thing. My own mother confirmed it. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well there is truly only one thing I can do when I'm thought of as the evil stepmom from Cinderella. I have to remind myself ...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASN5sOeGOmW3E5iO8wuBbzD3Kx_Dd03A4s7xVKrBW0XdDh3yI2wR-EKzi1zqadoQBdgQjTVNEMuk5lkE_KT2jLZEVbA4XjTf1ftjHRkWrENSHoXbtBDAmSXq5Axurn_Rje7kQPrV8QCI/s1600/IMG_0144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASN5sOeGOmW3E5iO8wuBbzD3Kx_Dd03A4s7xVKrBW0XdDh3yI2wR-EKzi1zqadoQBdgQjTVNEMuk5lkE_KT2jLZEVbA4XjTf1ftjHRkWrENSHoXbtBDAmSXq5Axurn_Rje7kQPrV8QCI/s320/IMG_0144.jpg" width="320" /></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/AVvXsEh4i0_XLpWTOQPFYSHtStQ3f96UURkD0UmLTeCYmovk9QjrVu9KqdIgOuzbK7VfGktx4eC9MX0bv9YP8T3vubtmgD1Bk5DWaOm34JLLn3Vzai-eUDQVFZwN_U7lrPFPAeWFIVWO6oIPq0I/s1600/IMG_0145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4i0_XLpWTOQPFYSHtStQ3f96UURkD0UmLTeCYmovk9QjrVu9KqdIgOuzbK7VfGktx4eC9MX0bv9YP8T3vubtmgD1Bk5DWaOm34JLLn3Vzai-eUDQVFZwN_U7lrPFPAeWFIVWO6oIPq0I/s320/IMG_0145.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They're never too old to play with balloons.<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And ...<br />
<br />
<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/AVvXsEjsxSM_Y1mHMkaCNDGmqorXz7jf8_IXIdIo2ZvKLBRwB_U2wfhaYUGowzaVsbITJlT82baXsRcE6khWW7DsL7Mwnjuh4vcfwA-ddFT1TDd07YmkqOs_7y4fNId1fkrbx7Elx51S-0rTUqk/s1600/IMG_8465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsxSM_Y1mHMkaCNDGmqorXz7jf8_IXIdIo2ZvKLBRwB_U2wfhaYUGowzaVsbITJlT82baXsRcE6khWW7DsL7Mwnjuh4vcfwA-ddFT1TDd07YmkqOs_7y4fNId1fkrbx7Elx51S-0rTUqk/s320/IMG_8465.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You're never too old to hold Dad's hand while iceskating</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEgzrjSotd8ccDBlcZOjNb1n9MWXowlySowemb_qelTrarly-6MKOY5yKiipkYyDQuKLzdaG78l4y8CqW5p2oSBtHSCHe_HlT84_cDRjTIdetIKIcTwf8WtEdh22mb_nwyYH42xFNbpr-ZM/s1600/IMG_8484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzrjSotd8ccDBlcZOjNb1n9MWXowlySowemb_qelTrarly-6MKOY5yKiipkYyDQuKLzdaG78l4y8CqW5p2oSBtHSCHe_HlT84_cDRjTIdetIKIcTwf8WtEdh22mb_nwyYH42xFNbpr-ZM/s320/IMG_8484.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing board games is still cool.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEiRek50ZKbrvylitdK47sMoLBET7N7ddt7NZBE28yYFfSDV9qT3DTP8gDQVRhbDdlswRw5N9A1RsJ1PBQTVoaG1vSC5XVGwuqf5-khhzjIOkdQyqfBYLCUJnuLdZOBy5ShbAF7H0Z2m330/s1600/IMG_0371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRek50ZKbrvylitdK47sMoLBET7N7ddt7NZBE28yYFfSDV9qT3DTP8gDQVRhbDdlswRw5N9A1RsJ1PBQTVoaG1vSC5XVGwuqf5-khhzjIOkdQyqfBYLCUJnuLdZOBy5ShbAF7H0Z2m330/s320/IMG_0371.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiny video game systems are fun to play with mom!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEgmYgvWhgojHP4W7Td7q5zlML0aYBpgkCQtTYS3SmMnLIlwgXk72BzUX4k2XYZlckUsWZlJVS1mDFfhEgKFqd1RV1LYyQi8HgvJpOatcjNNXxb0Of2O0YFs8f9k07-sUOVVX3kuAbeukQw/s1600/IMG_0349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYgvWhgojHP4W7Td7q5zlML0aYBpgkCQtTYS3SmMnLIlwgXk72BzUX4k2XYZlckUsWZlJVS1mDFfhEgKFqd1RV1LYyQi8HgvJpOatcjNNXxb0Of2O0YFs8f9k07-sUOVVX3kuAbeukQw/s320/IMG_0349.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Semi Matching Hoodies are still ok.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEjiDiZ-Cyz7_r4bttbyl5UZkUiUnBBmfnCjH1XlhtkmsmZRRDw5SLeEDC0_2YMVGiR8Fc4lOWninUEi4Ok-AF7wXYWpdhgQvtTtq4dVr9636GqMzEcE4ixEsDsxFlK5BNE1PrDefEMBQ3Y/s1600/IMG_0350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDiZ-Cyz7_r4bttbyl5UZkUiUnBBmfnCjH1XlhtkmsmZRRDw5SLeEDC0_2YMVGiR8Fc4lOWninUEi4Ok-AF7wXYWpdhgQvtTtq4dVr9636GqMzEcE4ixEsDsxFlK5BNE1PrDefEMBQ3Y/s320/IMG_0350.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Movies with mom is a thing. A fun thing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEhnBym4Vx54PqkBNGKjeO_xtRdil_0bdqoKU2mmtRmfxCR_K1Lpd8BkUeDwQ0_-rV_FwyRmn8cz1HFQ6Exfpdz1o6FC1D1wTqibmvltIbS9qxJjb6czRpEEH-RVx3YSd99qHhIZmPhKkuM/s1600/IMG_8545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnBym4Vx54PqkBNGKjeO_xtRdil_0bdqoKU2mmtRmfxCR_K1Lpd8BkUeDwQ0_-rV_FwyRmn8cz1HFQ6Exfpdz1o6FC1D1wTqibmvltIbS9qxJjb6czRpEEH-RVx3YSd99qHhIZmPhKkuM/s320/IMG_8545.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You're never too old to fall asleep watching movies in moms bed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<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/AVvXsEhSTCEGtdml76l2rjKq69X7Anu5s9ChnZv3JJkQ8NFyQKMKRpkv3Q_iOrYe_YYq8kwhStCU-G_ne4-AUartNhZ5jROBE7CQ7nfe3EtypN6_e1XhtHnIzutiUxJfjnS_aQ1r72ePRL_Mu4U/s1600/IMG_8760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSTCEGtdml76l2rjKq69X7Anu5s9ChnZv3JJkQ8NFyQKMKRpkv3Q_iOrYe_YYq8kwhStCU-G_ne4-AUartNhZ5jROBE7CQ7nfe3EtypN6_e1XhtHnIzutiUxJfjnS_aQ1r72ePRL_Mu4U/s320/IMG_8760.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes selfies with mom are ok.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7K2w-t0izQmHZH9Y8ZkEl6z-cLZGmPZC3m9wkfdZaUUxp8zoO2zJZPoMbagY_Cj4AF7fuHj57sTVLy82BaR6tM8Xqi7NgZ2D3TZf-2wIbomxSvP1gWayOuUuRam2xLtgNrI58HRdipw/s1600/IMG_8911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7K2w-t0izQmHZH9Y8ZkEl6z-cLZGmPZC3m9wkfdZaUUxp8zoO2zJZPoMbagY_Cj4AF7fuHj57sTVLy82BaR6tM8Xqi7NgZ2D3TZf-2wIbomxSvP1gWayOuUuRam2xLtgNrI58HRdipw/s320/IMG_8911.JPG" width="320" /></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/AVvXsEgCs7pQf5jILkIUpXdAFvyGf6goGfypWLUyx-xwlbGX6o00XyAg8-1xprp4MKod5x9o1sVwtesXk0rgmIrXNcJiw1iG1bkhfANwBksZBXs6yIPQu0RJvLUlKqC3SCQ_STqLYEyZcE0BOeY/s1600/IMG_8922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCs7pQf5jILkIUpXdAFvyGf6goGfypWLUyx-xwlbGX6o00XyAg8-1xprp4MKod5x9o1sVwtesXk0rgmIrXNcJiw1iG1bkhfANwBksZBXs6yIPQu0RJvLUlKqC3SCQ_STqLYEyZcE0BOeY/s320/IMG_8922.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Planes are still really cool.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And ...<br />
<div>
<br /></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/AVvXsEh0xPEKBjrm2it6Sy5vFs3t3ghpxVDWokK_lBU3Pj0IzSyIRucV4WnFe7021MQ-r9RiHpcUmSqbXpH0hhapO02Vfn-K3k0jXOaYTAK4m_tUBjiIOaPKo_3zaqQSRJsmjNgqNY7H3P0GaiA/s1600/IMG_0161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0xPEKBjrm2it6Sy5vFs3t3ghpxVDWokK_lBU3Pj0IzSyIRucV4WnFe7021MQ-r9RiHpcUmSqbXpH0hhapO02Vfn-K3k0jXOaYTAK4m_tUBjiIOaPKo_3zaqQSRJsmjNgqNY7H3P0GaiA/s320/IMG_0161.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's still okay to cuddle in the car (as long as you're sleeping and unaware)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sometimes raising teenagers is a huge chore. Sometimes they hate me. Sometimes they love me. Sometimes I want to pull my hair out. Sometimes I just can't seem to spend enough time with them.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Always raising teens is hard.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I come to this challenge with little to no preparation, and most days I have no clue what I'm doing. I wish my daughter didn't feel like she needed to send texts about me not wanting to drive her places, but let's be honest, I can't be a chauffeur ALL the time! And yeah, if we're being honest, sometimes I just don't want to! And that doesn't make me a bad mom, it just makes me human.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am a human mom. I hate making dinner. I enforce chores and homework with authority. I despise driving all over the place. I'm typically the one that chooses and doles out the punishments. I like to watch netflix in my room after dinner until bedtime. I have an illness that sometimes leaves me unable to perform every day duties. And I constantly pester my children to see if they want to hang out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I give my kids plenty of reasons to find me annoying or to dislike me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But that's ok.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't deny it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I own it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Why?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Because I love those infuriating children with abundance. And chances are, if they don't like me one day or another, it's probably because I'm doing something right.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So bring it on my little teens. Cuz this mama is going to keep on doing her best and trying her hardest despite no handbook, and she's going to keep on loving you far past the days where we have all left this earth! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And that my friends, is how you raise a teenager. (I hope)</div>
<div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-67384330378660642262018-01-11T13:13:00.002-05:002018-01-11T13:13:28.063-05:00What's Next? The Search for Something to DoMy workouts each day end with me promptly heading downstairs and plopping on the stool in my husband's home office to oh so considerately interrupt his work day with my sweaty, smelly presence. I have too cool down, might as well do it with company. For some reason this bothers him none, which both entertains me and pleases me.<br />
<br />
However, there inevitably comes a point where he does need to actually do work. So far this week this has been no big deal as it's been late in the day and the kids are home to bother, but today annoying my teenagers is not an option because they are still in school. Today is the day I've been dreading. Today I have to entertain myself for the first time since my unemployed days began.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOgVJzWnFDU77G6OmL_JB9WucPkFEI4550NSHCUviwj0b_Mz_iQPvdK4D5-u4kmqNDgXrI3Hb6D47FX6BuURih7l0qKKHmnBe12oxA-OfVujOU1kR9M5gXK9qn9JYaNoHIeqfH1ZRhu1E/s1600/unemployed.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOgVJzWnFDU77G6OmL_JB9WucPkFEI4550NSHCUviwj0b_Mz_iQPvdK4D5-u4kmqNDgXrI3Hb6D47FX6BuURih7l0qKKHmnBe12oxA-OfVujOU1kR9M5gXK9qn9JYaNoHIeqfH1ZRhu1E/s1600/unemployed.jpeg" /></a>Unemployment was my own choice. I had a job, the job was sooooooo not right for me for many, many reason, and since it was fiscally not an issue to take some time off to look for the right job, I quit. So I know I shouldn't complain. Sure I just got my bachelor's degree, and I was sorta hoping to have a really nice cush, well paying job by now ... but according to the jobs <strike>un</strike>available, and the fact that apparently just having a bachelor's degree doesn't magically get you a job, that's not happening anytime real soon.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, I don't know what happens next. I can't spend my day cleaning because my children basically have that covered in their chores lists. (Yes, we are THOSE parents. The ones who make our kids work to prepare them for life. Whether they do it well or do it when they are supposed to is a whole other story.) So if I don't have a house to clean, and my meals are already planned, and I save my Netflix binging for the evenings, what's an unemployed gal (who is currently taking a break from job hunting to keep from going insane) to do all day while her kids are at school?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6NisNhdCYmictOx6CenTLWqsGMwUT03aarNZRxfohyphenhyphenFOt1-1sMpHwb8TkHn3hoz50gj3iHvM5n2fM4SQfmY_isTGNwFKMpuoywh6tRmESS2SY7ylfjBi1Im1BBll2myiwXadKzQUtvo/s1600/hobby.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="158" data-original-width="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6NisNhdCYmictOx6CenTLWqsGMwUT03aarNZRxfohyphenhyphenFOt1-1sMpHwb8TkHn3hoz50gj3iHvM5n2fM4SQfmY_isTGNwFKMpuoywh6tRmESS2SY7ylfjBi1Im1BBll2myiwXadKzQUtvo/s1600/hobby.jpeg" /></a></div>
So far I've been told to:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Take up a new hobby</li>
<li>Take up an old hobby</li>
<li>Find something new I like to do</li>
<li>Join a club</li>
<li>Start a club</li>
<li>WRITE (technically and old hobby)</li>
</ul>
<div>
So here I am writing ... trying to fill my time. Trying to figure out what's next for me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What do I do with my days?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What do I do in the afternoons when my children are actually doing their homework (hahahahahaha ... if only miracles did happen) and their chores and then entertaining themselves and don't need me?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm not really a hobby kind of gal. I'm so uncoordinated that if I tried to knit it would look like this ...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj86IFnf53LX41q16baVBSQvq8sgIcOezhRMbxsJK5Di6LKzUjI2oplsFdnSpLsIlGZpbVsL9lxT5jNu9z2RH2Yv6cgpgf4sqDsVRjAS1rUDWjjAQnUEccLnuOCprA5AXwxyyWZ6-8IxGs/s1600/knitting.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="195" data-original-width="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj86IFnf53LX41q16baVBSQvq8sgIcOezhRMbxsJK5Di6LKzUjI2oplsFdnSpLsIlGZpbVsL9lxT5jNu9z2RH2Yv6cgpgf4sqDsVRjAS1rUDWjjAQnUEccLnuOCprA5AXwxyyWZ6-8IxGs/s1600/knitting.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have joined some clubs, but they only meet like once a month, and of course in the evening or on a Saturday. So that's a bust.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm not really sure what kind of club I would start ... "Bored People Being Bored Together." It'll be a hit! I just know it!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And as I'm not really sure what kind of something new to do is supposed to look like, that only leaves one thing ... Writing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've been told to write by every person I talk to about this conundrum. So I guess I could give it a try, but ...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What do I write about?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Do I write a blog? a book? a journal?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Will anyone read it?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Do I want anyone to read it?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
These are all questions I don't seem to know how to answer.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So that leaves the big ol' question, what's next?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Why can't my kids just be little again and still need all my attention. It was so much easier in those days. Now I'm lucky to get 30 minutes of them telling me how their day was and reminding them they'll work at McDonald's if they don't do their homework (which I hear can be quite a decent job these days so at least there's that) and that they need to do the dishes/laundry/etc. before they scatter away to do their own teenage things.</div>
<br />
<br />
Turns out I quit to stay at home and raise some teenagers who I find I need more than they need me.<br />
<br />
Turns out ... I'm a bit lost.<br />
<br />
Does anyone have a map to help me find myself? GPS?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz0Lfc5HFYb_w6fNHZXHtB6Zwz1l15jNWPkXeDVePGEVnF3uCmFOTfe8xu16ap8EeGPGR_RSdh1WaYrqly9EgSxn1Mw2E6bTjwBBYqR_PwkrtrCA41H9IFI2Pk9nT0T1syMd3uzWvr3ZE/s1600/map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz0Lfc5HFYb_w6fNHZXHtB6Zwz1l15jNWPkXeDVePGEVnF3uCmFOTfe8xu16ap8EeGPGR_RSdh1WaYrqly9EgSxn1Mw2E6bTjwBBYqR_PwkrtrCA41H9IFI2Pk9nT0T1syMd3uzWvr3ZE/s320/map.jpg" width="295" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-67292655490791569662016-08-31T12:11:00.000-04:002016-08-31T12:11:32.354-04:00Is Coffee the Key to Success? (The 2nd Reprise about what happens when you go back to work!)So, back in April of 2009, I originally wrote the post entitled "<a href="http://mbsmith090801.blogspot.com/2009/04/is-coffe-key-to-success.html" target="_blank">Is Coffee the Key to Success?</a>" At the time I was young and naive. I didn't understand the beautiful creation that is Caffeine.<br />
<br />
I didn't understand how glorious a hot cup of coffee is on a cold winter day on your walk into work.<br />
<br />
I didn't understand the joy of taking a break because you NEED an iced latte ... and/or 15 minutes of not staring at your damn computer screen and wondering how you're going to get two US senators into the same room on the same day and/or how the hell you are going to switch around 3 appointments for your boss because something more important came up that was surely NOT a golf outing.<br />
<br />
I just didn't get it. I didn't understand why so many others felt the need to partake in a cup of java EVERY single day.<br />
<br />
<strike>Even though it's true, </strike>I'm not going to say I was stupid. That would be cruel. But try as I may have, I just couldn't escape the gentle <strike>unrelenting</strike> grasp of a <strike>super grande with three shots of espresso</strike> tiny cup of joe.<br />
<br />
I'm not exactly sure what happened in February 2010 that placed me into the reconsidering stages of my decision to, "<a href="http://mbsmith090801.blogspot.com/2010/02/little-reprise-about-coffee.html" target="_blank">Just Say No</a>," but despite the lovely and almost totally convincing comments, I still remained a hater.<br />
<br />
Nope, I wasn't gonna do it. The smell didn't match the flavor. It was too hot. It was too cold. It made your teeth more yellow than Goldilox's hair. (See how I did that?)<br />
<br />
It wasn't freaking happening. Damn any success that could be had! I would forever remain coffeecelabate. (It's a word ... as of today.)<br />
<br />
So what the frick happened?<br />
<br />
Right now you're saying, "Oh, well you said it up above! You went back to work! Duh"<br />
<br />
Oh no my friends.<br />
<br />
I didn't just go back to work!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7u-6UL8VuHhImXNhzQ0GQ4nXtnLC_IhOP1wHbv_nrdkLYmGOj32pkNhuzhHvNwmIzWNfG-ghF83-ejvAT4C9fH0OzK0wc0I3xQUhEhb8LEcQt39IWNRQ_zKKjHAUwAO4VPl1zITBiG_I/s1600/IMG_7404.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7u-6UL8VuHhImXNhzQ0GQ4nXtnLC_IhOP1wHbv_nrdkLYmGOj32pkNhuzhHvNwmIzWNfG-ghF83-ejvAT4C9fH0OzK0wc0I3xQUhEhb8LEcQt39IWNRQ_zKKjHAUwAO4VPl1zITBiG_I/s320/IMG_7404.PNG" width="180" /></a></div>
I went back to work where my office was right NEXT DOOR to a freaking <a href="http://www.biggby.com/index.php" target="_blank">Biggby</a>!!! (Click the link if you haven't heard of them ... they are my favorite ... no haters allowed!)<br />
<br />
Yeah ... that cold winter walk to work ... about 10 ft.<br />
<br />
I know it shouldn't have mattered. I mean, I hated the taste right? It was awful.<br />
<br />
Or was it just awful without anything in it?<br />
<br />
I started small. Teddy Bear Latte. All that extra flavor, who can taste the coffee? Plus, it was practically just a cup of milk with a wee bit of espresso added. No Big Deal. It didn't mean anything. I was still a skeptic ... ish. I mean it was really warm and creamy and got me going when I was really tired first thing in the morning. I just needed a little bit of help! Okay!?!?!<br />
<br />
And so yeah, maybe I would brag about it on instagram a time or two, but I still had control over the situation,<br />
<br />
Then things got a little more serious. After a month or two of creamy, sugary lattes I started to notice my pants fitting a little differently. Something had to change.<br />
<br />
"Can I get a Non Fat Butter Bear Latte with Light Flavor and no Whip, Please? Oh, and add and extra shot of espresso."<br />
<br />
I was slipping fast. I could actually TASTE the espresso ... and I kinda liked it.<br />
<br />
Before long they knew my order by heart.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYDOjDFeKf1xyf7EUgLoBwZw_kaDTsae3XNyHyDhpzIPhdN7FmltKNiN8oPMaa7DpgkL6fHfYFwIMYDmJtKCod6-7UGjXLIl0D1xi0GzNA4P2DkJY_4jWOx1gEmoJSwvuGt_kStFKUfs/s1600/IMG_5503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYDOjDFeKf1xyf7EUgLoBwZw_kaDTsae3XNyHyDhpzIPhdN7FmltKNiN8oPMaa7DpgkL6fHfYFwIMYDmJtKCod6-7UGjXLIl0D1xi0GzNA4P2DkJY_4jWOx1gEmoJSwvuGt_kStFKUfs/s320/IMG_5503.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
And from there I was sucked in.<br />
<br />
And let's not lie, for as much love as I have for the Big B, lattes are expensive yo! But coffee with a wee bit o' sugar ... that shit's cheap AF!<br />
<br />
That's when I knew there was no going back.<br />
<br />
Here I am now, having resigned from my job to once again go back to school, and I'm still drinking the damn sludge I'd told myself I'd never need.<br />
<br />
It's all over.<br />
<br />
Cuz I NEEEEED it.<br />
<br />
I need it HARD!<br />
<br />
So past Poppins, let me answer our own little question.<br />
<br />
"Is Coffee the Key to Success?"<br />
<br />
Who gives a shit! That stuff is gold and I'm going to drink it anyways. I'm only sorry I didn't start sooner. (Though my pearly white's thank me for taking my time to cross over to the dark side. You're welcome teeth!)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-19548825196582905852016-08-22T13:55:00.001-04:002016-08-22T15:24:07.706-04:00When Your Midlife Crisis Hits and It's All ... I Got This! (As you're dying your hair blue)Recently, okay maybe like in the last three to five years, my kids grew up and became preteen and teens. When I began this blog, my youngest was 4, my middle child was 6 and my oldest was 8 and they were all #cuteAF!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBfCNXFGq2MZ2474uSAlWhMsFEIt2fG3gK964b4nM8SyA3akhthaGQOz6CCq2qjUbPXhzT_AoAnQDU0zwxii7VoVTws28USrcWudQ928uFuG6pEFPCL2_FsVUp-WASctDLb-tzXAgVRLk/s1600/1924029_117354588188_3398987_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBfCNXFGq2MZ2474uSAlWhMsFEIt2fG3gK964b4nM8SyA3akhthaGQOz6CCq2qjUbPXhzT_AoAnQDU0zwxii7VoVTws28USrcWudQ928uFuG6pEFPCL2_FsVUp-WASctDLb-tzXAgVRLk/s320/1924029_117354588188_3398987_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Now, I don't even have a photo of all three of them together because, um ... that's not cool! Duh!!! (Let's be honest, I totally just scoured through FB, Instagram and my phone to find one but um yeah ... all I got were these ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilAnHjQNlS0DmJWG4BOemeBh_3G1Zw-BWD6NFSMV6xdYI1iK_RWub9w94us3xVE5Wz38rOXP7hJiHRYINBZwdfktsxRN_tajZA78T_FVlg3csPUYj2xb0PaXmNJyOeKjxbmBqxgpQ6nLU/s1600/13265874_10154360509268189_8914894574422868714_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilAnHjQNlS0DmJWG4BOemeBh_3G1Zw-BWD6NFSMV6xdYI1iK_RWub9w94us3xVE5Wz38rOXP7hJiHRYINBZwdfktsxRN_tajZA78T_FVlg3csPUYj2xb0PaXmNJyOeKjxbmBqxgpQ6nLU/s320/13265874_10154360509268189_8914894574422868714_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXs4Zf02BHROEJKlQ3en1jIPQICWPrQQ5eD4TFKDroj2RIf88l6IKDxQ44vDWqeL-8TQyw3HToDh88vZB0eH6hs0vtcirW4JVEiIp1OTcoOCOBiqjIV45nA9A7wFODSzH0hwIW2BrP5bM/s1600/14079881_10154590106183189_9075179626105267181_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXs4Zf02BHROEJKlQ3en1jIPQICWPrQQ5eD4TFKDroj2RIf88l6IKDxQ44vDWqeL-8TQyw3HToDh88vZB0eH6hs0vtcirW4JVEiIp1OTcoOCOBiqjIV45nA9A7wFODSzH0hwIW2BrP5bM/s320/14079881_10154590106183189_9075179626105267181_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And then the audacity of my now 15 year old daughter to freaking start looking like THIS!!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsP7fvnai7OP8ZOdApxUQY0_XqXGzRKPlFbnLz-euHgjlTjy71z-XL7NldpXi8fGRbRsn67290J_FbGGB5_2mYKPv37u_T7JIzY1JuYKmhGDcBXGbBM14qKBA_kD_gZPBaT4rgHvWoHM/s1600/13920556_1061193620616180_6555246368537345770_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsP7fvnai7OP8ZOdApxUQY0_XqXGzRKPlFbnLz-euHgjlTjy71z-XL7NldpXi8fGRbRsn67290J_FbGGB5_2mYKPv37u_T7JIzY1JuYKmhGDcBXGbBM14qKBA_kD_gZPBaT4rgHvWoHM/s320/13920556_1061193620616180_6555246368537345770_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Okay so that was a planned photo shoot and she actually usually looks like this (after her new hair cut...)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8eLeh9iInXkCu553htEyRaSzpWMzJjbhw-cT6KaWkb4kXDXamPyeCh2w1PRlonvqXce8bsxjSK_27s2ebBi1mT_XCidK9hyphenhyphengLlsqeu2ZfVtQJDc4ivgREpXaxwFnu9btbUhOsE-0iLuc/s1600/IMG_7275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8eLeh9iInXkCu553htEyRaSzpWMzJjbhw-cT6KaWkb4kXDXamPyeCh2w1PRlonvqXce8bsxjSK_27s2ebBi1mT_XCidK9hyphenhyphengLlsqeu2ZfVtQJDc4ivgREpXaxwFnu9btbUhOsE-0iLuc/s320/IMG_7275.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Still #cuteAF though, though all so much more grown up!!!<br />
<br />
And although I adore them at these preteen and teen ages, something HUGE has changed.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>They don't need me anymore</b> ... well at least not as much.</div>
<br />
What is a mom who is DESPERATELY Searching for her Inner Mary Poppins to do when she is barely needed past the task of making dinner??? (And if we are STILL being honest, "Make Your Own Dinner Night" happens a wee bit more than I'd like to admit so I'm really not NEEDed for that either.)<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Enter Midlife Crisis!</span></b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
But it's all good yo! I got this!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Recently ... </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>I enrolled in college to complete my bachelor's degree! #completelynormal</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>I met a group of ladies in my new suburbian neighborhood who have similar interests as me Again ... #completelynormal</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>I began a workout plan ... Totally #completelynormal</li>
</ul>
<div>
See, I'm rocking this crisis like it's barely a crisis at all.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Shit ... I forgot we were being honest ...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So there may be a FEW things I left out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I may have omitted a detail or more about some other things I've recently done since said crisis arrived.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Such as ...</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>In enrolling in college, I MAY or may not have also signed up for 5 classes in one semester #borderlinecrazysauce </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>In meeting my new friends, some of our interests MAY or may not include watching trash TV and making fun of it, drinking wine, having girls night out and playing inappropriate card games. #TOTALLYnormalAF</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>I MAY or may not be having some issues with above mentioned workout plan and perhaps it isn't working out for me quite yet ... maybe it's the wine, or the diet that's not quite existent ... but I'm getting back in shape! I swear! #AisforEffortBitches</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>In realizing that my teen daughter seems to be a little less "typical" teenager than me ... I mean than I WAS at her age, we decided to start a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCVJwvl69E0tGoMLCDasiTkw" target="_blank">youtube channel</a>/<a href="https://www.facebook.com/KBandMB/" target="_blank">FB Page</a> making videos about who can teenage it better. #What? I MAY or may not usually win. #NormalAF</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>As I'm no longer working full time due to being in school, and it doesn't matter what the hell I look like anymore ... and as my daughter is refusing to take advantage of the joys of being a teenager, I MAY or may not have had a moment of weakness and did this ...</li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw2DKxEjN5EEKK9TcGFRaHO55o4Aybo9a_mf5NdMitvvT07c-93VvXkL9WIOb-eOYoxdpng0qdVvuYlnHtnl_bDVynaHg8I_DMn1qfMW01wKXn7fs-qdrzjyWxA7Y22qRlWEgBcLAaHRg/s1600/14047382_10154586894913189_2173825665065706610_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw2DKxEjN5EEKK9TcGFRaHO55o4Aybo9a_mf5NdMitvvT07c-93VvXkL9WIOb-eOYoxdpng0qdVvuYlnHtnl_bDVynaHg8I_DMn1qfMW01wKXn7fs-qdrzjyWxA7Y22qRlWEgBcLAaHRg/s320/14047382_10154586894913189_2173825665065706610_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
This I like to refer to as #MidLifeCrisisAF</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I've got this y'all. Totes.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can handle it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's not like the first half of my book <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Fall-Girl-The-Series-Book-ebook/dp/B0056U9SSE" target="_blank">Fall Girl</a> hasn't turned out to be about at LEAST 75% accurate or anything.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's not like I'm flipping out like 90% of the time thinking about the next 8 years of my life after which I'll be back to working full time IF I can make it through my bachelor's program and then at LEAST 66% of my children will be off living on their own and I'm going to be all alone, being <strike>forced </strike>given the wonderful opportunity to get to know who I REALLY am and who my husband and I REALLY are as a couple or anything.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's not like I feel lost and/or confused as well as lonely all the time because I don't even know what to do with all the extra time I'm being given as I no longer have to care for my children 24/7 as they are WAY too busy and cool for me now.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm totally cool with this Midlife Shit! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's the best. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm working in #BeastMode now and killing it!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As such, I've decided to give this whole blogging thing a try again. Go back to my old "Poppins" identity. Search for that perfect imperfection once more ... just from a tiny bit NEW perspective.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As a mother of preteen/teens. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Where ... </div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Try as you might to keep it classy, language no longer matters ... the kids at school curse more than you do. Which is ridiculous because you use Fuck like a verb, noun, adjective, etc. and you can't keep up with the amount of vinegar needed to keep these kids' mouths clean. (Of COURSE I'm talking about the kids at school, not my children. They remain #classyAF)</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>All the household chores are now done by your minions without the fear of child labor laws because, DUH, you <strike>own them</strike> love them and <strike>gave birth to them and they owe you this labor!!!</strike> want to prepare them for the world ahead by teaching them what it's like to do a little work from time to time.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>You are no longer the person they run to when they get hurt, when they want someone to play with, when they need help with homework, when they get scared, when they have questions about how the world works, when they can't figure shit out, etc because you are no longer #CoolMom ... you are now #EweMom and that's why they have friends who know EVERYTHING since you no longer know NOTHING. AKA: You are now #JohnSnow.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>You have so much damn time on your hands that at LEAST 80% of the time all you have left to do is focus on YOU! #scaryAF</li>
</ul>
<div>
It's probably not that bad really. I know my kids love me. But this new life IS rather scary and I'm thinking I may need some help maneuvering through it. I should probably <strike>not</strike> ask them how to do it since they've got <strike>nothing</strike> everything figured out already! But I don't want to cut into their Y<strike>ouTube Watching/Video Game Playing</strike> Book Reading/Studying time.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So here I stand kids ... back in the blogging game ... just looking for a <strike>LOT</strike> little bit of guidance.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mid Life Crisis! FUCK YEAH!</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-70644819831611381942013-09-19T13:40:00.002-04:002013-09-19T13:40:31.561-04:00Things I say to my Children that I PROBABLY Shouldn't (Don't Judge!)<h4 style="text-align: center;">
AKA: Confessions of a Crappy Mom</h4>
<br />
(<strike>Some</strike> Most of these threats are not real and have never been carried through <strike>often</strike>!)<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Turn the sound to that video game off or you die!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"You want to come smell my armpits?"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"The only reason I'm letting watch this X-Box Game is because they are killing Zombies and Zombies are bad!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"You're fired ... budget cuts, sorry!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Get your head out from under the dog's butt!!!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"If you don't clean your room, I will throw away all your toys and then you will spend the rest of your life bored and then die."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Don't make me remind you how you got into this world!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"No, you can't have fruit snacks. You smell funny."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I don't like you today. You smell funny."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"If you don't do the dishes I'm going to sell you to the gypsies, who will then in turn probably try to sell you again because you smell funny."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"If you don't stop talking I'm going to make you smell my armpits!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Your new name is (insert name here) BarfBottoms."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Go take the dog out before he poops on the floor and I make you eat it!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Let me recall the tail about how you came out of my birth canal."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I think you suck, go away."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"You did a crappy job on your chores. You're fired."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Don't make me high five your face!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"If I have to come in there ... there will be children licking my toes until they are clean!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"If you don't pass that test you'll spend the rest of your life working at McDonald's."</blockquote>
So the real question is ... where the hell is my Mother of the Year Award???<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimO4ZTcQ3d8bty5TQcLj0LUNZUuvM7gSubQkfcJ1rkjk12Eb81bFzIAFa7rW_y9quik72TQ9fsq2yAXw4co2_98ioyR4m4zn3ZqpvpvJv9g1W1ModOJepRkGPjbBjp0xpCPL8KwTQXUr8/s1600/mother-of-the-year.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimO4ZTcQ3d8bty5TQcLj0LUNZUuvM7gSubQkfcJ1rkjk12Eb81bFzIAFa7rW_y9quik72TQ9fsq2yAXw4co2_98ioyR4m4zn3ZqpvpvJv9g1W1ModOJepRkGPjbBjp0xpCPL8KwTQXUr8/s1600/mother-of-the-year.png" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>***IMPORTANT NOTE***</b><br />
<br />
<i>None of my children have actually died, though they may or may not have been asked to smell my armpits from time to time.</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-39637731484069676252013-09-18T11:14:00.002-04:002013-09-18T11:14:33.269-04:00Homeschooling and Me ... a Follow Up Post of Epic HOLY SCHNITZ!!!!So Four YEARS ago I wrote this post "<a href="http://mbsmith090801.blogspot.com/2009/08/home-schooling-and-me.html" target="_blank">Home Schooling and Me</a>", in which I claimed I would NEVER put my children through the wrath of my own teaching ...<br />
<br />
So in the past four years my kids have been delightfully Charter Skooled, however this year we learned about this super fantastic thing called "Online School," or as I now like to call it, "Home Skool Lite."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq1Xtdw4V6wVSE-elOB-8zxyDMCHdtyT5Ke9v150ibodPdIsDUt748HS4Y2P9QD002as9D1sFi629kXUOXw-hUIB0gr-hqRhuPiaGTT9Im_QmA8sAGVliDRdJpvZ7OejzrFJDgMovIChc/s1600/homeskool+lite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq1Xtdw4V6wVSE-elOB-8zxyDMCHdtyT5Ke9v150ibodPdIsDUt748HS4Y2P9QD002as9D1sFi629kXUOXw-hUIB0gr-hqRhuPiaGTT9Im_QmA8sAGVliDRdJpvZ7OejzrFJDgMovIChc/s320/homeskool+lite.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
In a desperate attempt to find my children a better education that would challenge their unfortunately brilliant minds a bit more, (Why yes I did say unfortunately brilliant ... do you KNOW how scary brilliant kids are? They know stuff!!! And they use it against you!!! They're evil I tell you ... EVIL! Good thing they're cute!) as well as remove them from the escalating bullying that continues to plague all schools these days, my husband and I, with the input of our children, decided to enroll them in an Online Academy which we will henceforth refer to as, "Home Skool Lite."<br />
<br />
Home Skool Lite had all sorts of promise and hope for those of us *cough* lazy *cough* moms who don't really want to school their children but don't really want to put them in school either. All their lessons are taught online ... teachers even give Live online lessons to them. BRILLIANT! Lazy Mom WIN.<br />
<br />
But noooo .... there is no Lazy in Home Skool Lite.<br />
<br />
NONE!!!!<br />
<br />
I am now a "Learning Coach" to my children. A LEARNING COACH. A coach without a whistle or a court or a field to make them run sprints on if they are out of line. Learning Coach is so NOT cool. I actually have to read WITH them and HELP them. The nerve of Home Skool Lite!!! Asking ME to help!!!<br />
<br />
Okay okay, I know I sound like an ass and really I'm not as lazy as I sound ... most of the time ... AND I'm not gonna lie, but um, Tim and Moby of the Brain Pop movies are the schnitz ... but Home Skool Lite truly is harder than I had ever anticipated!<br />
<br />
So to redact on my lazy momness, I've compiled a list of reasons why I'm unfit for this Home School Lite life.<br />
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Top Ten Reasons Poppins Should NOT Be Allowed to be a "Learning Coach"</i></h4>
<br />
1. Did you know that you can write a decimal equivalent to 7.75? Apparently adding zeros anywhere into that number makes an equivalent decimal ... 07.75, 7.75000000 ... Equivalency. I'm clearly NOT familiar, and that's only 5th Grade work.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins is VERY bad at Math</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
2. Learning Coaches are required to read WITH their children. Now as many of you know ... I'm a writer. I'm grammar police beeeeatch. I'm into making plots that pop and characters with big fat round personalities. Now, however, I am stuck reading tall tails about Thunder Annie or something like that and the characters are flat and boring and OMG!!!!<br />
<br />
<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/AVvXsEjof7s4Iw32vFnf_Tw21OD9eNWsV6_kMszF9semApX03kUMW04_q4BFC_92KKwox2YJjcNpKobGUJQsJLqXIbGhLpLegS_N8F9NsbJ4ByjIiDKgzRPau_mPt0-Z2-rKZOFHg7s_eStlBiA/s1600/hero_space.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="109" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjof7s4Iw32vFnf_Tw21OD9eNWsV6_kMszF9semApX03kUMW04_q4BFC_92KKwox2YJjcNpKobGUJQsJLqXIbGhLpLegS_N8F9NsbJ4ByjIiDKgzRPau_mPt0-Z2-rKZOFHg7s_eStlBiA/s320/hero_space.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NOT what I look like while reading a Kid's Book</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins will NEVER write Children's Books and Grade School stories are SUPER boring!!!!</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
3. I still hate science. In Home School Lite ... I'm supposed to do experiments. I took Biology last semester in college ... I don't do experiments. There is nothing cool about a bog and I really hate rock candy.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins poor kids are going to be the worst scientists ever!</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
4. Bingo Blitz, though a great precursor to excellent hand/eye coordination, is not the best way to keep children focused on their studies. Every time the lady from Madrid yells out B15 ... suddenly everyone stops and stares at me.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins can't play while being a Learning Coach. All work and no play makes Poppins a dull boy ... ummm ... or something like that</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
5. There is NO Harry Potter ANYWHERE in the curriculum. What crap is that?!?!?!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IRJgo-hK5dytDn9p75Mp2O-ErKEjizO2IE2vmNmG64SMeXhvQbuJKjCw_WPdEhOCSlITFIoWR275eYli2PN-ggJkgo76EIdvhPXrPXnCqipS6QsgqKilHbdJKpcTwb20Ai__qotkChQ/s1600/bf6b3c0c23e3b0bfb3ba2e2428926f09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IRJgo-hK5dytDn9p75Mp2O-ErKEjizO2IE2vmNmG64SMeXhvQbuJKjCw_WPdEhOCSlITFIoWR275eYli2PN-ggJkgo76EIdvhPXrPXnCqipS6QsgqKilHbdJKpcTwb20Ai__qotkChQ/s320/bf6b3c0c23e3b0bfb3ba2e2428926f09.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins can't relate to Home Skool Lite if they can't relate to her!</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
6. I have 3 kids ... in three different grades ... learning three sets of 7 different subjects. Who can keep up with all that?!?! Suddenly I'm supposed to be an excellent scholar and expert in 3rd, 5th and 6th grade everything! Do you know how LONG it's been since I've been in any of those grades?<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins is NOT smarter than a 5th Grader OR a 3rd Grader for that matter</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
7. We bought a dog. He's cute. I <3 him VERY much. He likes to play. Sadly, this turns out to be a terrible distraction to children. Poor poor puppy.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins likes puppy more than kids and sometimes and wishes she could play with puppy instead of playing Learning Coach</li>
</ul>
<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/AVvXsEhebivtYy6Q3ka5p3UgH6hCCFFbmRId7iLuJyvLPCVq_HV7znkvK_1LZD7OT1X2X_H2FEej61GeRt26HU-jyTsS0nbDuiImmuzipPa0NbJ_fS3Fx0yQd27xiNCJPWLeY7s107jG6i7v3sk/s1600/DrakePuppy_9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhebivtYy6Q3ka5p3UgH6hCCFFbmRId7iLuJyvLPCVq_HV7znkvK_1LZD7OT1X2X_H2FEej61GeRt26HU-jyTsS0nbDuiImmuzipPa0NbJ_fS3Fx0yQd27xiNCJPWLeY7s107jG6i7v3sk/s320/DrakePuppy_9.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really stinking cute dog!!! No?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
8. Kids are needy. They need to be fed and paid attention to. And then they need all this help and guidance. I used to sit at home and write and edit pictures and now I have no time for such nonsense. I'm stuck with 3 needy kids and a puppy and and and<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins is Selfish and hates Paying Attention to things that are not nonsense</li>
</ul>
<div>
9. Kids don't listen. It's in their nature. They come built in with these selective hearing devices that I have yet to learn how to remove. So when I say things like, "You NEED to do ALL of the math assignment before you take the assessment!" or "No, you CANNOT take a 2 hour break between each subject!" or "If you miss another live lesson they WILL flunk you and you will have to take this grade over and over and over!" they appear to not have heard me each and every time. They'll START to listen to me and so I'll START to do the laundry and then when I look back I have one child sleeping, another playing Club Penguin and then the last of them gorging themselves on junk food and watching Cake Boss.</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins CLEARLY canNOT be a Learning Coach and a Laundry Doer (This is one of my favorite issues ... not gonna lie)</li>
</ul>
<div>
10. There are these things called "Support Groups" where us moms from Home Skool Lite get together via Facebook and chat about all of the above issues and by the end of the day it feels like we should all be sitting together and drinking wine whilst watching our husband's be Learning Coaches for the rest of the day. I like these groups ... a lot. I may or may not spend more time getting "support" than I do being an actual Learning Coach.</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Lesson Learned = Poppins likes to piss and moan with other moms way more than she likes to teach. It's way more entertaining</li>
</ul>
<div>
So here you have it. It's quite evident that I am not fit for this Home Skool Lite lifestyle. But here I am <strike>writing a blog post for the first time in like a year clearly avoiding my Learning Coach responsibilities</strike> doing it. I'm braving this new world and putting aside my inadequacies for the benefit of my children and my children's children and their children's children's children. I am a goddess of parenting and I <strike>suck at it</strike> am rocking it out until the very end <strike>of the school year</strike>. I am a hypocrite in my own right but it IS <strike>possibly not so much</strike> a good thing. We WILL conquer this world of Home Skool Lite with the help of my fellow Learning Coaches and we WILL succeed (although we are most definitely all in the process of failing at the current moment) with flying colors!!!!</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
All in all ... I'm in over my head and any well wishes and/or GOBS of advice are highly welcomed!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-16073073833375767762013-02-17T10:03:00.003-05:002013-02-17T10:03:34.862-05:00<a href="http://www.askabipolar.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/cover-art-for-profiles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="cover-art-for-profiles" border="0" class="wp-image-4121 alignright" height="292" src="http://www.askabipolar.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/cover-art-for-profiles.jpg" width="216" /></a>
That's right! Just thought I'd share with you that<em><strong> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fall-Girl-The-Series-ebook/dp/B0056U9SSE">Fall Girl</a></strong></em> is currently <em><strong>FREE</strong></em> on all major online ebook retailers! With the sequel coming out soon, don't miss your chance to get the first book at absolutely <strong><em>NO COST</em></strong>!
Here are the links:
<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fall-Girl-The-Series-ebook/dp/B0056U9SSE" style="font-size: 1.17em;">AMAZON</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fall-girl-marybeth-smith/1103852545?ean=2940011329166" style="font-size: 1.17em;">BARNES AND NOBLE</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/fallgirl/id444862414?mt=11" style="font-size: 1.17em;">ITUNES</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/FallGirl/book-1d5fCTHRnUKCb5_0QP_vbQ/page1.html" style="font-size: 1.17em;">KOBO</a></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><a href="https://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/marybeth-smith/fallgirl/_/R-400000000000000713410" style="font-size: 1.17em;">SONY</a></li>
</ul>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-49254286547689131132012-08-26T20:13:00.001-04:002012-08-26T20:14:38.645-04:00New Obsession ... Photography!I started a new blog ...
What? Like that's REALLY surprising?<br />
<br />
Well I've recently become addicted to photography and decided to share that addiction with the world. Why? No clue.<br />
<br />
But here's the site ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDo3LjzIUtRxjpMsPrvExQG_Ihcf0lZ7fepjMKwY7CJkNV-2D7Ow008N2Sz_l9IYhxBVGXDNNXN9MqMsAwDHjcJLSgOdC7J8f-hKcXwqqFAHg4MB2Nu0cUFNu6cBxigxrMLg8MOfH_OB4/s1600/did+i.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDo3LjzIUtRxjpMsPrvExQG_Ihcf0lZ7fepjMKwY7CJkNV-2D7Ow008N2Sz_l9IYhxBVGXDNNXN9MqMsAwDHjcJLSgOdC7J8f-hKcXwqqFAHg4MB2Nu0cUFNu6cBxigxrMLg8MOfH_OB4/s640/did+i.png" width="640" /></a></div>
Go over and LIKE it :) It will make me all sorts of smiley!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-87752285941377591962012-08-09T08:55:00.000-04:002012-08-09T08:55:03.392-04:00Generating Novel IdeasI have exactly 2 weeks to come up with a new idea for a book. I know I know ... I totally JUST finished the first draft of Stumble and Fall, but I joined a writers group and this is my first assignment.<br />
<br />
In the past year or so I've had some great ideas while sleeping that I wrote done and then reread only to fine ... yeah, not so great.<br />
<br />
The two I recall the best are about fire and water. One where the world has been flooded and life after the flood. The other where the sun is burning the world and life trying to survive and keep what they've rebuilt from burning again.<br />
<br />
Super cool dreams.<br />
<br />
Pretty lame when it comes to book plots.<br />
<br />
So I'm trying not to rely on my dreams since I'm obviously NOT Stephani Meyer and I don't have visions of Sparkly vampires while I slumber. (Which in all reality, this does not bother me a bit!)<br />
<br />
But where do I procure these ideas from? Seems like right now I'm going to have to just pull them out of my arse at the last minute. But what fun would that be!<br />
<br />
Where do YOU procure your novel plot ideas? Please share your secrets!!!<br />
<br />
PLEASE!?!?!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-10237594428368918792012-08-07T09:24:00.002-04:002012-08-07T09:24:26.766-04:00Feeling Crafty with Nothing to Craft! Bollocks!My sisters are all sorts of craftiness! Like ALL SORTS!<br />
<br />
My oldest sister, AKA Miss Charlotte (found at <a href="http://www.lesbonnesideesmag.com/">http://www.lesbonnesideesmag.com/</a>) does the domestic gig. She can make dinner out of an onion and a block of cheese and somehow make it taste like spaghetti! She sews like it's her job ... wait ... Well anyway, she sews like a goddess and makes the most fantastical things EVER ...<br />
<br />
See this dress?!?!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibiK472C6OefMR3uQbLn_HgKND0N3xxXslQVDG2N9DaFLg8RTS2FcrnFI46OcNozo3Cg9ALyeOwBU4n5mx0LYtMjhTavasXJmQuRvLvtnwHdDJtEjwnoJHtVzkDm-zJkVUpfzmfFqplU/s1600/miks+dress+front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibiK472C6OefMR3uQbLn_HgKND0N3xxXslQVDG2N9DaFLg8RTS2FcrnFI46OcNozo3Cg9ALyeOwBU4n5mx0LYtMjhTavasXJmQuRvLvtnwHdDJtEjwnoJHtVzkDm-zJkVUpfzmfFqplU/s400/miks+dress+front.jpg" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_6DVF3cGWfkbzO4IJPh7UHoDY7EjOc0FnoJ1-Q-EjOEohB0pGgiXy1XPDSMWEK1mi08S6I7DPwl098we2sQ5qdN43Lgg7s26USsiVzyG8QhRv7EDTgMTFjwBiAfKoVOxjEfvC2alT5MI/s1600/miks+dress+back.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_6DVF3cGWfkbzO4IJPh7UHoDY7EjOc0FnoJ1-Q-EjOEohB0pGgiXy1XPDSMWEK1mi08S6I7DPwl098we2sQ5qdN43Lgg7s26USsiVzyG8QhRv7EDTgMTFjwBiAfKoVOxjEfvC2alT5MI/s400/miks+dress+back.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
It's my daughters first communion dress and it's absolutely GORGEOUS!<br />
<br />
Then my other sister, Becky ... Rebecca ... Beckster ... what have you ... (found here <a href="http://capturethelite.com/">http://capturethelite.com/</a>)paints all sorts of awesome!<br />
<br />
See!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgspc07rpZjiLVUSeqwaGH2WSLEmDMDZHJKN6EW3VS2fK_uH-avHzO-bYWNaH0LvrHVfy9BGFaT0zxNeIRnB_ThzJyBWw7nh4XETIcy5dyCR4sVvTbcaCW35gUcaqKArF93wzrMF0C5OOM/s1600/painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgspc07rpZjiLVUSeqwaGH2WSLEmDMDZHJKN6EW3VS2fK_uH-avHzO-bYWNaH0LvrHVfy9BGFaT0zxNeIRnB_ThzJyBWw7nh4XETIcy5dyCR4sVvTbcaCW35gUcaqKArF93wzrMF0C5OOM/s640/painting.jpg" width="326" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Are they freaking talented or what?!?!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And me ... sigh ... well I just write and create websites. Kinda boring if you ask me. There's nothing visually stimulating about a book! LOL</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And websites, meh ... they're okay (I did do the http://capturethelite.com/ one! but um it's totally all my sister's art, so I can't really take the credit for it's awesomeness.)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
SO .... I find myself wanting to create something with my hands. Something fun and pretty. Something fantastical.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
However ... I can NOT sew. My stitches tend to look something like this ...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pqeBKv9dq-_R8U6PBVHVgk-2yGdMkVShQXVClF7zBG5dHuL6YELMZ4eovtfw1CMfX8TPNvss2TqdqkkcNgDwhsD8DBbXYUoGjwWKoFYg4gdTT6xXcTF7SORlmASQg0EEuPIusk4qWlQ/s1600/Fig-99-Running-stitch-seaming.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pqeBKv9dq-_R8U6PBVHVgk-2yGdMkVShQXVClF7zBG5dHuL6YELMZ4eovtfw1CMfX8TPNvss2TqdqkkcNgDwhsD8DBbXYUoGjwWKoFYg4gdTT6xXcTF7SORlmASQg0EEuPIusk4qWlQ/s320/Fig-99-Running-stitch-seaming.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The extent to which I can paint ... Well ....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhDgYwrL-A_vQCWeTMOTvhvS8WP8hEF_Kkji3qz8Euumo6UGR-2f1OwxZCeOQhyphenhypheniQP9Nh8vU3Bzke-FX8-0wJUIEdM63ILH1Bnt6DqKaROHxOfsCMGcMCOS1lBBaOJmIdrHVylENFLC8/s1600/IMG523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhDgYwrL-A_vQCWeTMOTvhvS8WP8hEF_Kkji3qz8Euumo6UGR-2f1OwxZCeOQhyphenhypheniQP9Nh8vU3Bzke-FX8-0wJUIEdM63ILH1Bnt6DqKaROHxOfsCMGcMCOS1lBBaOJmIdrHVylENFLC8/s320/IMG523.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Yeah um ... Thank goodness my daughter isn't an art critic!<br />
<br />
And although I CAN cook ... sometimes ... I'm not particularly fond of it. So what does that leave me with?<br />
<br />
Well today I shall find out! Tell me kids ... what SHALL I create? Hmmmm???<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-43759454275313098432012-08-03T14:02:00.001-04:002012-08-03T14:02:28.710-04:00What? You're Depressed for no Reason? Rubbish!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ff1ZoUT0xvyogzDEM-vj11UOAyrcY7VBBWEXeldplnm2YyAC-nlHUHwCjdQmbLXBroCHw6zS4lPHQi5Aeu4LLrmZi-ubMN2Z6Ptxpo9hDgJjKodHpdTKG3H4XeTRKjF_fbBnvJggVzw/s1600/Snapshot_20120721_6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ff1ZoUT0xvyogzDEM-vj11UOAyrcY7VBBWEXeldplnm2YyAC-nlHUHwCjdQmbLXBroCHw6zS4lPHQi5Aeu4LLrmZi-ubMN2Z6Ptxpo9hDgJjKodHpdTKG3H4XeTRKjF_fbBnvJggVzw/s320/Snapshot_20120721_6.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I think that there is a common misconception that one <b><i>must </i></b>be going through tough times to be depressed, and/or at the very least have something to be sad about. Sure, this is true to a certain extent, but it's not the whole truth.<br />
<br />
It's no secret that I have bipolar disorder, and I'm not (usually) ashamed to admit it. However, I think there are many people out there that don't really understand what it means. In particular, what it means for me to be depressed.<br />
<br />
The difference between my depression and situational depression is that I don't usually have a reason to be sad. My life can be wonderful ... and actually it rather is ... yet I can still be found in a pool of tears and not even know where they are coming from. (Okay well they are OBVIOUSLY coming from my eyes ... but I meant the cause is usually unknown)<br />
<br />
The other thing that is quite different from the usual depression is that it makes me angry and cranky all while at the very same time making me hopeless and full of despair. There is no rhyme or reason to how it comes out, it just is.<br />
<br />
During a specific episode today, I posted on facebook ...<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1,"tn":"K"}">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">"I'm
about ready to pay someone $50 to cheer me up. Ready . Set . Go!
(hahahaha ... see that was funny cuz it's impossible!!! lol)"</span></span></h6>
</blockquote>
What I got from this statement was a plethora of people trying to propose ways in which to cheer me up while also refusing my offer of money. What the didn't seem to understand that it was truly the statement in the parenthesis that really rang true for me.<br />
<br />
During a depressive episode there is almost NOTHING anyone can do to cheer me up. I don't want to get on the phone and talk about it because that will just make me cry and crying will only make me feel worse. I don't want company because I know I won't be good company and that will just make me feel bad. I don't want gifts because I don't feel like I deserve them. And I don't want showers of compliments because no matter how nice they are, I don't believe them. What's worse is, if I do believe them ... I don't care. They don't make me feel better anyways.<br />
<br />
Now do not misunderstand this as Poppins looking for sympathy ... cuz that's totally NOT what this post is about. I'm just trying to help others understand why I am the way I am. Why I do and say the things I do. And what it is I truly feel.<br />
<br />
In all honesty, I don't want anyone feeling bad for me. I have a neurological chemical imbalance ... it is what it is. It's frustrating, yes ... but it makes me who I am. Because of this illness I am intelligent, creative, sarcastic, funny and sometimes even talented. I wouldn't give those things up for a normal brain any day!<br />
<br />
My main point is ... you don't always have to be sad or have a reason to be depressed. Sometimes you just feel like the world is crumbling in on you even though you might be the luckiest person in the world. So if a person ever tells you that there's nothing you can do to help them feel better, just let them know that you are there if ever they change their mind.<br />
<br />
ALSO ... don't hesitate to check in on them as often as you feel necessary. HOWEVER, depressed and suicidal are two different things. NEVER leave a suicidal person alone ... EVER! <br />
<br />
<i>If you are thinking about harming yourself, or know someone who is, PLEASE get help immediately.</i><br />
<br />
You can get help by doing one of the following:<br />
<ul>
<li>Call your doctor.</li>
<li>Call <b>911</b> or go to a hospital emergency room to get immediate help or ask a friend or family member to help you do these things.</li>
<li>Call the toll-free, 24-hour hotline of the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at <b>1-800-273-TALK</b> (1-800-273-8255); TTY: 1-800-799-4TTY (4889) to talk to a trained counselor.</li>
</ul>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-79221465017076805462012-08-03T09:37:00.002-04:002012-08-03T09:37:41.725-04:00$h!t I did it backwards!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp984fmpt8RS23RXzTEJhLYGCxhxVlB0vB-tokdbhHLSmNY2FiXnxagrivh1CiQevqbYw7UNBJjsZ5OU7LXHaigc_NuJbEUztW2GYQu6e8g2HO854dXkv3SDpT6BtM9vBG539ExZ1tay0/s1600/poppins.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp984fmpt8RS23RXzTEJhLYGCxhxVlB0vB-tokdbhHLSmNY2FiXnxagrivh1CiQevqbYw7UNBJjsZ5OU7LXHaigc_NuJbEUztW2GYQu6e8g2HO854dXkv3SDpT6BtM9vBG539ExZ1tay0/s640/poppins.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-66681672108941630612012-07-31T06:00:00.000-04:002012-07-31T06:00:06.012-04:00My Patronus is a UnicornI know, I know. Harry Potter is all over and done with and all that fun stuff. But I'm not gonna lie ... I'LL NEVER STOP LOVING THAT SERIES ...<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NEVER!!!</span></h2>
<br />
*sniff sniff*<br />
<br />
I mean I was actually super sad the night I went to see the last movie. I was like, "What the heck ... now what midnight movies am I going to go to?"<br />
<br />
Well, so far that question hasn't been answered. So in the meantime I like to pretend that one day Harry Potter will come back because Malfoy was bitten by the Dark Lord before Harry killed him and is full of all sorts of Dark Magic. Then Harry and Ginny will have to train Albus Severus and the other two kids with better names so that they can become the new order of the phoenix. BUT since Dumbledore is dead and the phoenix flew away ...<br />
<br />
It will now be called "The Order of the Not So Evil Unicorn!"<br />
<br />
And then I know I'll fit in because I totally love unicorns! I mean if I were to have a patronus ... um UNICORN! It would be just like Harry's stag except without the antlers and just one horn ... plus it would look more like a horse.<br />
<br />
Kinda like this ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uVEE2nXboQ0yr_O58SB_vUaO1UQSfBNeFDi0xcDSYyyhFedh1y3VqCpyiBSWQBJrfGyOkVzBbTgPxNhw8WSoYOhNA3IPbLQaEz4jNA1UzlIhyphenhyphenMcUSDxa0eJvZuhxVkhNsqfLMEstCFM/s1600/Forest_Unicorn_by_Ironshod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uVEE2nXboQ0yr_O58SB_vUaO1UQSfBNeFDi0xcDSYyyhFedh1y3VqCpyiBSWQBJrfGyOkVzBbTgPxNhw8WSoYOhNA3IPbLQaEz4jNA1UzlIhyphenhyphenMcUSDxa0eJvZuhxVkhNsqfLMEstCFM/s320/Forest_Unicorn_by_Ironshod.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Except there's be more wisps flying out it's arse cuz that's where all the light would shine from. (Duh!) It would kinda be like the patronus that runs backwards. And the dementors wouldn't know whether to run away because of all the bright shiny light or due to the fact that the bright shiny light would be coming out of the arse of a unicorn.<br />
<br />
What really remains to be seen is whether or not that bright shiny light comes in a rainbow of colors ...<br />
<br />
Needless to say, J.K. Rowling needs to stop writing adult books and get back to HP so that I can appear in the next movie with my Unicorn Patronus. The future of Hogwarts totally depends on me!<br />
<br />
Perhaps we should gather a petition?<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-45610297533275052982012-07-30T06:00:00.000-04:002012-07-30T06:00:03.550-04:00So what if I'm a Tease! You know you like it!Yeah that sounded way dirtier than anticipated. Or did it? Or did my commenting actually make it more dirty than originally read?<br />
<br />
Regardless ...<br />
<br />
I've been trying to finish up Stumble & Fall and am about 75% there. And so once in a GREAT while I like to share a little sum sum to leave people wanting. Well here's one of my favorite scenes and I'm hoping to goodness it doesn't give anything away!<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRCqo4-yIMs3G7rRikWpISahbFXKqjrbgG_nEdeNgh-sbxZAJuRwaj4YNqsyAwGMmN-NSl8CgXmi4UIUlePNb7LbeWXacIzN5876kfQTq2JobSioCWqE9hojKsoAYuX9SkY3f4OQVOLI/s1600/title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRCqo4-yIMs3G7rRikWpISahbFXKqjrbgG_nEdeNgh-sbxZAJuRwaj4YNqsyAwGMmN-NSl8CgXmi4UIUlePNb7LbeWXacIzN5876kfQTq2JobSioCWqE9hojKsoAYuX9SkY3f4OQVOLI/s200/title.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It’s raining again. Tired of the precipitation and its wet residue, I decide it’s probably best to find some sort of shelter. Or maybe not. Maybe I should just let the rain wash away my pain and memories. </div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
When I stumble upon a deteriorating picnic table at the edge of a pond, I find the rain has not yet made it to the surface of the water. Moving closer to the edge I place the cancer stick behind my ear and the lighter back into my purse. I bend over the edge and finally see the drops of water colliding with the pond and rippling as if they have no end.<br />
<br />
<br />
It’s not long before I realize they are not in fact raindrops, but a showering of my misery and anguish.<br />
<br />
Well, not so much a shower. My tear ducts have reached complete downpour by this point. I slowly back up to the bench and sit down.<br />
<br />
And I cry.<br />
<br />
I cry for what seems like hours.<br />
<br />
I cry until its dark.<br />
<br />
I cry until I hear the faint calls of what sounds like my name.<br />
<br />
The voice puts an end to my tears.<br />
<br />
My tears.<br />
<br />
No one else’s.<br />
<br />
Footsteps sound behind me, but I remain motionless staring at the dark, starlit water. I refuse to move. I refuse to acknowledge the rest of the world. Furthermore, I refuse to acknowledge the voice now calling my name followed by the sound of running.<br />
<br />
“Annabelle?” Tony cries.<br />
<br />
I do not move. I do not speak.<br />
<br />
The running ceases. “Annabelle?” Tony repeats. “Are you okay?”<br />
<br />
Okay? Am I okay?<br />
<br />
Obvious answer: No.<br />
<br />
My answer: More silence.<br />
<br />
I think Tony asks me if I’m okay a few more times. I’m not really sure. I can’t hear. I can’t talk. I can’t feel.<br />
<br />
Finally Tony joins in my silence. It’s the most beautiful silence I’ve ever been part of; a silence that cannot be filled with any words, because there are no longer any words to be said.<br />
<br />
My concept of time has been shattered, so I’m clueless as to how long it is silent before Tony scoops me into his arms, cradling me like a child. Though I want to protest and start punching and kicking and showing Tony my amazing ninja-like tactics, my entire body is frozen.<br />
<br />
A salty drop of warm water hits my lips. This is not my tear. My tears are locked up. This tear and the following sparse tears which land on my almost numb cheek are definitely not mine. These tears belong to Tony.<br />
<br />
I should feel bad.<br />
<br />
I should care.<br />
<br />
I should want to comfort him.<br />
<br />
But I don’t. Instead, I lay lifeless in his arms bathing in the warmth of his tears while trying not to admit to myself that his pain pleasures me.</blockquote>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-52536689913822092402012-07-27T08:00:00.000-04:002012-07-27T08:00:07.369-04:00I'm not just an Awesome Writer ya Know!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFxYIXVjs2v-m-uREAqtfjYShD6v9T_UZX7fQvMQ-oQa1HXCoTdTIgyu3rajcGSU-ByiFQVETsl-1aQrGDlmTFBt7iFrl7SmCTWDFE78ENzG4R3ISLl-ZL-7nfy8QiLs-SkwKxGSnVjVw/s1600/IMG448.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
I mean, I AM an awesome writer (or so they tell me ... I've still yet to be completely convinced!) and all, but there's so much more I do! Like, a lot more. Like, I probably shouldn't be reviving Poppins because there's so much more that I do. But Posh to That!<br />
<br />
As it's been pretty much freaking FOREVER since I've done one ... I now present thine selves with ...<br />
<h2>
</h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Top Ten Things Poppins Does BESIDES Writing!</h2>
<ol>
<li>I'm a mom! GASP!!! I know ... I had a feeling no one knew about that one. I mean, just because I'm searching for my inner Mary Poppins doesn't mean I have to be a mom, right? Well it's true. I raise three little <strike>devils</strike> angels as my "official" full time job. And there's something about cooking and cleaning and laundry ... but that's all just hearsay. </li>
<br />
<li>I design Websites. Mr. Poppins thinks I should do this for a living. I think he's cracked in the head because if I did it for a living I wouldn't find it fun anymore. DUH!!! Here's a couple of my favorites.
<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="http://www.capturethelite.com/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLZInim7ylR-zXsavJyOylFsw9BMm_waiUZKU7lyrmruBCdfmSm6a2VIfmhYK8ieDuEo1y6hyafqCNGHLNgDxpn7RXLE59FUQ_Z-q_lXuzyJt8AbWekaLSW4CtigczhdXKzXLmfwt6PQ/s320/Capture+the+Lite.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is by far my favorite. It's a site for my sister's artwork. All of the Design Images are actually her Paintings! Does it get any cooler than that!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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="http://www.sirpizzagrandcafe.com/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfyo-voxU0UPGDUV2WVx_d5u_AsBIBO9d0M01RPZJmcbQmNqRzz_FKbQj5iuWGR_NC4xvESkEJHJoPXeTjzlYXZtpiX3XJ-GSewiGR_Bdd7Im-0tgBGqOl486jYnFjqvSu4j9zQES8OW4/s320/sir+pizza.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is probably my second favorite. Probably just cuz I really like Pizza!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</li>
<li>I run on the Board for Nami MI (National Alliance of Mental Health) and recently I was given the opportunity to go to Seattle, WA.While I was there I got to do LOTS of cool things like ...<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/AVvXsEhFxYIXVjs2v-m-uREAqtfjYShD6v9T_UZX7fQvMQ-oQa1HXCoTdTIgyu3rajcGSU-ByiFQVETsl-1aQrGDlmTFBt7iFrl7SmCTWDFE78ENzG4R3ISLl-ZL-7nfy8QiLs-SkwKxGSnVjVw/s1600/IMG448.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFxYIXVjs2v-m-uREAqtfjYShD6v9T_UZX7fQvMQ-oQa1HXCoTdTIgyu3rajcGSU-ByiFQVETsl-1aQrGDlmTFBt7iFrl7SmCTWDFE78ENzG4R3ISLl-ZL-7nfy8QiLs-SkwKxGSnVjVw/s320/IMG448.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visit and Eat at the Space Needle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<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/AVvXsEinaWCh1EsCM9GCs7bHzBzCtq75skNHgJ4BjIS8ruL_CYBEeJ6iCSQ67Q5jRJjOGf2xIU5376DSrfSYPHErj6zgTS-L5JG1WsL0gtwbsXfAGnvFbrnLGV_ih3BmXoMmuuaPPMAai1fXapA/s1600/IMG441.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinaWCh1EsCM9GCs7bHzBzCtq75skNHgJ4BjIS8ruL_CYBEeJ6iCSQ67Q5jRJjOGf2xIU5376DSrfSYPHErj6zgTS-L5JG1WsL0gtwbsXfAGnvFbrnLGV_ih3BmXoMmuuaPPMAai1fXapA/s320/IMG441.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do a Book Signing!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</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/AVvXsEgSypDo0MHBBlQy2-8shYVfO3NLGWBrYEpGwtXCrVP0P1ZezCk_zGpxzsQr_kzXH-wTOAMQ014pKXN4xGfdda2YrmHyaZ1MdbRnsgg9dE09zmSuKnzbevf9oW5EaAi9BQaPusiOMHNtjGw/s1600/IMG422.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSypDo0MHBBlQy2-8shYVfO3NLGWBrYEpGwtXCrVP0P1ZezCk_zGpxzsQr_kzXH-wTOAMQ014pKXN4xGfdda2YrmHyaZ1MdbRnsgg9dE09zmSuKnzbevf9oW5EaAi9BQaPusiOMHNtjGw/s320/IMG422.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lend a man my coat!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</li>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<li>Although if you had asked me a year and a half ago if I would EVER own a pet, I'd have said HEAL NO! ... I now own TWO dogs and I feel like that in itself is a full time job. My newest puppy, Henry is quite the beast!
<div style="text-align: left;">
<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;"><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="149" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/s720x720/282818_10150933107078189_2105847072_n.jpg" style="height: 529px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 706px;" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why yes, that is a "Beware of Dog" Shirt!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</li>
<br />
<li>I run ...</li>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://s-media-cache-ec9.pinimg.com/upload/73605775129583440_nMsZvC16_f.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img alt="." border="0" class="PinImageImg" src="https://s-media-cache-ec9.pinimg.com/upload/73605775129583440_nMsZvC16_f.jpg" style="height: 320px; width: 247px;" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<li>I blog ... like for a million blogs (number may or may not reflect actual number of blogs I write for.) Currently, besides my Ask a Bipolar blog I am blogging for <a href="http://www.internationalbipolarfoundation.org/search/node/Marybeth" target="_blank">International Bipolar Foundation</a>, <a href="http://www.bphope.com/bphopeblog/author/Marybeth%20Smith.aspx" target="_blank">bpHope Magazine</a> and <a href="http://blogs.webmd.com/mental-health/2012/05/mood-swings-of-a-bipolar-friendship.html" target="_blank">WebMD</a>. I know it seems like I'm kinda a big deal ... but I promise, I'm still just little ol' Poppins!<br />
</li>
<br />
<li>I've been dabbling a bit in photography. But unfortunately, I don't own a cool enough camera to REALLY get into it. (insert grumbles and profanity here) Here's a few photos I've tinkered with lately.<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/AVvXsEhj9lvzIH-0nbFGUUTs894xlY1K9VWp3swn5MUitT1T-Cyo6D03S9vk1fgKcwL3XQZkEgK75NiVx_h7V1aGjQtnIRXztTg-ZTmKr6MtCKynwMSkfym-CDJY_R4BPIaAoY7jgOl84YmjHpk/s1600/DSCF2471.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9lvzIH-0nbFGUUTs894xlY1K9VWp3swn5MUitT1T-Cyo6D03S9vk1fgKcwL3XQZkEgK75NiVx_h7V1aGjQtnIRXztTg-ZTmKr6MtCKynwMSkfym-CDJY_R4BPIaAoY7jgOl84YmjHpk/s320/DSCF2471.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is one of my roses that bloomed in like March and died by the end of May!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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/AVvXsEhGjrbYTPbVx6iBUYjV96tCUKweQd9wHcuVwgXIA6R8obLPylY7u1Nigwyd6KWpxVV7THcEYtlf7lMMPI_XUajqRMWJrz3Nwmkt_CrYYGr63ntoBLFGR0ec3r1GJ6_DM_AOAjFZJRyFXfI/s1600/DSCF2423.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGjrbYTPbVx6iBUYjV96tCUKweQd9wHcuVwgXIA6R8obLPylY7u1Nigwyd6KWpxVV7THcEYtlf7lMMPI_XUajqRMWJrz3Nwmkt_CrYYGr63ntoBLFGR0ec3r1GJ6_DM_AOAjFZJRyFXfI/s320/DSCF2423.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case you didn't know ... I like wine!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<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/AVvXsEidDc7_aQqoiRHWMBaMJQIEBSBZtZr2Fx7o5NfYZBB1d6a-LC0vzC89RuKm_N5k8ly2NPNzLoa8uTyj6uwmEz_w6uJxlk9aBIPFY1dQHpLV8HMkJ3O4yoXRe2Dc7aZryiW_gpzUVr120kQ/s1600/DSCF2398.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDc7_aQqoiRHWMBaMJQIEBSBZtZr2Fx7o5NfYZBB1d6a-LC0vzC89RuKm_N5k8ly2NPNzLoa8uTyj6uwmEz_w6uJxlk9aBIPFY1dQHpLV8HMkJ3O4yoXRe2Dc7aZryiW_gpzUVr120kQ/s320/DSCF2398.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meet Poncho. He's a bad @$$ mother puppy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</li>
<li>I now go to school! I'm officially entering my sophomore year as a psychology major. I'm old, I know. But I had to go back to school eventually! Now let's see if I can make it through my PHD? (Stop laughing! I can do it ... I swear ...)<br />
</li>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<br />
<li>I start random facebook groups. I'm not sure why, but about every few months I start a new one out of the blue. The newest has been fun though. We name the top 5 things every day that made us happy :) Feel free to<a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/380333615339492/" target="_blank"> join us</a>!</li>
<br />
<li>I sit and ponder the meaning of life while drinking a margarita and/or glass of wine and toss back and forth ideas for new blogs, facebook pages, books, movies, ways to become a super star! It's really tiring work, but someone's gotta do it!</li>
</ol>
I'm pretty sure I do more, it's just hard to think of it after trying to cram in all those tiny pictures when blogger just wasn't having it in my ordered list. Sigh ...<br />
<br />
When you don't write and/or do whatever it is that you do ... what do you spend your time on? <br />
<ol>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</ol>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-60363327435970518942012-07-26T20:32:00.000-04:002012-07-26T20:54:31.975-04:00Is Poppins Back?<a href="http://static.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/5e3f75703a95cb4aedbdc0ecb22356352d.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="http://static.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/5e3f75703a95cb4aedbdc0ecb22356352d.png" border="0" src="http://static.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/5e3f75703a95cb4aedbdc0ecb22356352d.png" /></a>Well I've been doing some soul searching. Not that that's anything new. I'm pretty sure I'm soul searching at least every other day.<br />
<br />
Examples:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I'm in love with ice cream and I want us to be together forever!"</blockquote>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Two Days Later</div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Sorbet is the best desert in the world and I don't know how I could have ever been in love with that dairy filled cream of ice."</blockquote>
or<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I'm going to be an author for the rest of my life!!!"</blockquote>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Two Days Later</div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I'm going to go to school and study psychology!!!"</blockquote>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Four Days Later</div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I'm going to be an advocate for mental illness and devote all my time to it!" </blockquote>
Needless to say ... I'm stinking indecisive in a very difficult sort of way. But it's what makes me me, so deal with it world! Bwahahahaha ...<br />
<br />
Sorry, kinda got carried away there for a moment.<br />
<br />
So ANYWHO ...<br />
<br />
I've been searching my soul, which happens to be partial to Sorbet lately, and decided, "Damn, I really miss being funny!"<br />
<br />
Cuz let's face it, running a website about bipolar disorder can get a bit depressing after awhile. And although my heart and soul are in it, I just think I need a little extra something to keep the happy around.<br />
<br />
I was totally desperately searching for happy ... desperately searching??? HOLY BALLS!!! That's it! I need to revive Poppins. Even if for only a bit ... she just needs to come back!<br />
<br />
So, here I am. I've once again redesigned the site. It's pretty lame and I'm sure it will change again, but at least now there is a bit more info about me and my books. Not to mention a killer picture of Fall Girl at #4 on Amazon right after the Hunger Games Trilogy!!!<br />
<br />
So tell me what you think. Is it time for Poppins to return? If so, what is it you've missed the most?<br />
<br />
Stay tuned to see here my soul searching lands me next!<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-44752268611230756132011-09-30T09:37:00.003-04:002011-09-30T09:37:43.919-04:00Feedback and Reviews = Sequels of Epic ProportionsWorkin on the sequel ... yep ...<br />
<br />
Just want to throw something out there, kay? Sweet!<br />
<i><b><br /></b></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>I SUPERDUPERFRAGILISTICALLY LOVE IT!</b></i></div>
<br />
Fall Girl is probably my favorite out of all the books I've written, but I have this HUGE advantage with writing this sequel ... FEEDBACK!<br />
<br />
Reviews are rough, especially when they are picking apart something you've worked on for the past year! Some reviews make you smile and some reviews make you want to cry. It's all part of a writers world. But I'm not going to lie, it's the ones that make my all flustered that happen to be my favorites.<br />
<br />
(Masochist? Who? Me? Noooooo)<br />
<br />
What I'm saying is, these reviews which break apart me book and tell me, "It would have been great, but ..." these are the ones that guide me while writing this sequel. I now know what I need more of and what I need less of (apparently F bombs made the less of list ... which is really funny because I rarely use the word myself. Go figure) and what I did just right.<br />
<br />
I look at these reviews as if they are my own personal Goldilocks. It's all the same book/porridge (except my book tastes way better than porridge ... bleck!) no matter who is reading it, but everyone (My Goldilocks) views it a little differently depending on what how (as in what chair/bed/etc.) the are reading it. My book has been all three ...<br />
<br />
Too Cold - Not enough about Blake, Not enough about bipolar, Not enough realistic situations ...<br />
<br />
Too Hot - Too much teenage melodrama, Too much swearing, Too much cutsie cheesiness ...<br />
<br />
JUST RIGHT - This is the majority of my reviews (thankfully) These are the reviews that make me tear up in a whole different way. They are by far the ones that make me feel as though I've done my job, but they also tell me HOW I did that job right.<br />
<br />
So I have these three types of reviews ... some are wanting more, some are wanting less and some think it's perfect the way it is. Each of these types helps me grow and brings my sequel to a whole new level.<br />
<br />
That level?<br />
<br />
EPICNESS!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq86lvmdpSY1bXlupaTySsD9ArDDqKfUffwIUKpamkj7AmYknmfUbx1N5eK3-XzMTw5jrSMb_omFUn3VqzLEGreRlW6tQYSvXfYJuNChtkg5YbdxsWf2d8_UseaPNjSr6jrUgByt7NxUY/s1600/1189040_kasha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq86lvmdpSY1bXlupaTySsD9ArDDqKfUffwIUKpamkj7AmYknmfUbx1N5eK3-XzMTw5jrSMb_omFUn3VqzLEGreRlW6tQYSvXfYJuNChtkg5YbdxsWf2d8_UseaPNjSr6jrUgByt7NxUY/s320/1189040_kasha.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
So which chair did you sit in my dear Goldilocks'? Did you like my porridge? Was my bed fluffy enough for you? Was the chair you sat in just right?<br />
<br />
If you've got feedback, I want to hear it!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-77102190771462366722011-09-18T21:56:00.002-04:002011-09-18T21:57:06.856-04:00Practically Imperfect in Every Way<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
When I started this blog ... WAY back in the day ... when I didn't even have to lie about being 29 ... I wanted to make sure the name of the blog fit who I am.<br />
<br />
The name of this blog is the epitome of who I am! "Desperately SEARCHING for my Inner Mary Poppins"<br />
<br />
I'm always struggling to be the perfect everything. Perfect Mom. Perfect Wife. Perfect Friend. Perfect Student. Perfect Anything Else that I Can Be ... And that's a pretty big friggen struggle!<br />
<br />
I thing searching for that perfection has set me up for some grave expectations that I am not able to live up to. Sometimes I feel like I'm expected to be happy and positive. I'm expected to have my shit together. I'm expected to be ambitious. I'm expected to hold people up when they are falling. I'm expected to be a great leader.<br />
<br />
And maybe I'm not ... but it sure feels like it sometimes.<br />
<br />
That fact of the matter is, though I am those things some of the time, other times I am not. And in the past two years of trying so desperately hard to live up to those expectations, I've found myself quite burnt out.<br />
<br />
So here's the deal world, I'm not friggen perfect! Sure I do have issues with trying to be ... but isn't perfect really an unattainable state anyhow?<br />
<br />
I write books and publish them on a whim and end up super embarrassed and humiliated because of the editing errors.<br />
<br />
I start websites that sometimes leave me feeling overwhelming and lost.<br />
<br />
I got a 70% on my history quiz.<br />
<br />
I gained 15 lbs this year.<br />
<br />
I start things and sometimes it takes me forever to finish them ... sometimes I don't finish them (embarrassing confession there)<br />
<br />
I drop off the face of the earth for weeks to months at a time, and sometimes there's not even a reason for doing it.<br />
<br />
And those are only a few things.<br />
<br />
I've decided to change the tagline to this website due to this lack of perfection ...<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Desperately Searching for My Inner Mary Poppins by Marybeth Poppins, Practically Imperfect in Every Way!</b></i></div>
<br />
Does it ever feel like you are fighting to live up to the pressures of perfection and fighting to meet everyone else's expectations? Or am I the only idiot who for some ridiculous reason believe that someday she will save the world?<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/VFDl-KWu-XQ" width="420"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-26812039414602955362011-08-06T20:12:00.181-04:002011-08-06T21:55:25.457-04:00Poppins' take on the F Bombs in YA Literature (open minds welcome ...)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwkenWQBWvLg7grIQDTdYHUyJp0D6IXFeQgyvXYaAwmPvj9hmSaT3q870BgSmdIfXWd12gJhlBdKETjIpa3_bv3zwOiYgOE33giHztKbR2eyliLYofsuDxE21xa0eljYkZbgK22QMWtoo/s1600/fbomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwkenWQBWvLg7grIQDTdYHUyJp0D6IXFeQgyvXYaAwmPvj9hmSaT3q870BgSmdIfXWd12gJhlBdKETjIpa3_bv3zwOiYgOE33giHztKbR2eyliLYofsuDxE21xa0eljYkZbgK22QMWtoo/s200/fbomb.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
Oh F Bomb ... You sly little mother puppy. Always causing controversy. Why must you do that? WHY!!!!<br />
<br />
So after a few more reviews than I'd have liked (though no less than I expected) commenting about the profanity in my book, I felt the need to explain and/or defend myself.<br />
<br />
There is something you need to know about me.<br />
<br />
I'm really NOT a fan of the F Bomb.<br />
<br />
No seriously. I yell at my husband every time he says it. I instantly feel guilty anytime it leaves my own mouth. And I have a tendency to makeup prettier words to put in the place of most cuss words.<br />
<br />
Examples:<br />
<br />
Son of a Monkey<br />
<br />
Mother Puppy<br />
<br />
Shiznit<br />
<br />
Crap Monkeys<br />
<br />
Though, you will sometimes hear me use letters. Such as "Oh, F!" or "What a B!"<br />
<br />
So ... if you've read my book, then I'm going to share a little secret with you ... (ok if you haven't I'm still sharing it with you, but you just won't get it in the same way.)<br />
<br />
My kids REALLY do think F stands for Fantastic. Just ask them. They'll tell you!<br />
<br />
When I started writing Fall Girl, I thought long and hard about whether or not I would actually include said cuss words. I mean, if I don't use them, should I really have my characters?<br />
<br />
I did a bit of research. Read a good variety of YA books, many of which did in fact use cuss words, some even used the F Bomb *GASP*. I went back and read my journals from age 14-18 ... funny part, I swore MORE from 14-15 than I did from 16-18. I even went back and read all the notes I had from friends. Friends who are all Catholics and who you'd probably never hear utter those words now, but was surprised how many times the F Bomb got thrown around. I NEVER thought I had such a sailor's mouth, and some of the others that did I can't even imagine them having one now.<br />
<br />
I literally forgot what it was like to talk like a teen.<br />
<br />
Does that mean EVERY teen swears. Absolutely not. And I have the utmost respect for those teens who don't. However, from the research I did, I found that even the most straight laced Catholic teens had a love affair with using the F Bomb at one time or another in their lives.<br />
<br />
Sooooo ... I started by just writing. Writing how I heard the characters talking in my head. I considered the circumstances they were under, the stress they had been experiencing, their frustration levels, and their personality types. Many cuss words were cut in the end, but many still remain.<br />
<br />
If read closely, one will notice that it is mainly just two characters who use the actual F Bomb more than once. And less than a hand full of others who even say it at all.<br />
<br />
Of those two ... one has bipolar disorder ... and is a boy. I could not imagine being true to his character withOUT having him cuss. Though in the story he really only does it under duress. The second character is a boy who is battling an addiction to drugs and alcohol. In my head, throwing out the F bomb from time to time kinda seems automatic for that type of character.<br />
<br />
Okay, you're probably wondering why I'm even bothering to write such a rambling rubbish like post. I just want to make a point to say that my words were chosen carefully, not out of laziness, but for authenticity. Still, after the book was published and reviews started to come out, I made a point to go back and remove as many F Bombs as I could. I just couldn't remove them all and feel like I was being true to my characters at the same time.<br />
<br />
Does that make me a bad person? Does the fact that the teenagers in my book think about sex make me a bad person? Does having a character with a drug problem, who also happens to be the the protagonist, make me one?<br />
<br />
I'm terrified of my children becoming teenagers, but as much as I want to, I can't hide them from real life. They are eventually going to start thinking about sex, it's human nature. They are eventually going to start cussing, people cuss. And though I hope they never do drugs or drink, chances are, they will probably know or know of some person who does do those things.<br />
<br />
These are real life issues. And unfortunately, when you throw in mental illness, these real life issues tend to pop up a little more often. Not writing about these things is not going to stop them from happening. And I'm pretty sure it's not going to convince kids who aren't doing these things to start doing them. It is what it is.<br />
<br />
Life isn't always pretty. People aren't always kind. Some kids are offensive. Some kids are inappropriate.<br />
<br />
However ...<br />
<br />
Sometimes things do work out. Sometime you end up with a kids who stays out of trouble. And sometimes that same kid detests those who are inappropriate.<br />
<br />
Teen life isn't black and white. Actually, adolescence is quite a colorful world. Teens battle so much more than just the decision to say and/or read a book that says the F Bomb. They battle real life. They battle decisions about drugs, sex, alcohol, bullying, bad neighborhoods, overcoming diversity, telling someone they are gay, illiteracy, abuse, homelessness, working to support their parents and siblings, etc. And the fact is, whether we talked about it or not, so did we.<br />
<br />
Even if I wasn't having sex, I could name at least a handful of people who were.<br />
<br />
I was never a drinker in high school, but I'd estimate that a good at LEAST 50% of my senior class was.<br />
<br />
And of that 50% most have them did or had smoked a little weed from time to time.<br />
<br />
I had friends who barely graduated.<br />
<br />
And even I, the girl who rarely swears, got a two hour detention for mentioning the F Bomb and one of my not so favorite teachers in the same sentence while he was, unbeknownst to me, less than two feet behind my friend and I listening to the whole conversation.<br />
<br />
<br />
Life as a teenager is, and always has been rough. And there is nothing we as parents can do to hide that truth. I'm not saying we should embrace it or even encourage it, but I think it is important to help our children know that we get it. We were their age once. We battled these same issues. We were faced with the same kinds of decisions. We struggled, we faltered, and we picked ourselves back up, brushed off the dirt and became the adults we are today because of our abilities to overcome the obstacles thrown our way.<br />
<br />
Is my novel for kids ages 9 to 12. Absolutely not!<br />
<br />
13 to 15 ... I think that's up to their parents.<br />
<br />
16 plus ... believe me, if they aren't reading it in books, they are living it in every day life in some way, shape or form. And, as a parent, I intend to let my kids know that I understand, I've been there, and I will always be there to help them brush off the dirt if they find themselves in any of these situations.<br />
<br />
Yes ... I used the F Bomb in my book. 17 times to be exact. 17 out of my over 65,000 words are the F Bomb. I'm not proud of that, and I might even be a tiny bit ashamed of it, however, I'm not afraid of being true to my characters and writing my book in a realistic manner. That, I am proud of!<br />
<br />
I offer out an advanced apology to anyone who finds themselves offended by the language in Fall Girl. But, although it might not be the world you've experienced, it's the world I've been a part of. This is what being a teen was like for me, and if it wasn't for you, then you should be truly grateful, for you were blessed and a tiny bit of me even envies you!<br />
<br />
So, Dear F Bomb, you have reared your controversial head once again, but you are what you are. You are a word. One that gets used all too often. And though I hate you, I do realize you're not likely to be removed from the English language anytime soon. Due to this depressing fact, I have no other choice than to acknowledge your existence ... and let me tell you what ... you Effing suck!<br />
<br />
That's all.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-52423643119677272142011-08-03T17:38:00.002-04:002011-08-03T17:38:58.046-04:00Self Publishing Project ... The Accidental Best Seller ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4F9ZVe2bKKu6LRjeC84r0b9nqt5WnNmZEntLxmaIW2I224mv0jFRIm2J_DD9cslXW2wzGIvGLRuE4a9Tl1O-_qIFgMZPMsIDtHfZaLSIm5QVyZYa6v_c7A9lWqpmHDgWajcYCKrre7k/s1600/free_books_online.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4F9ZVe2bKKu6LRjeC84r0b9nqt5WnNmZEntLxmaIW2I224mv0jFRIm2J_DD9cslXW2wzGIvGLRuE4a9Tl1O-_qIFgMZPMsIDtHfZaLSIm5QVyZYa6v_c7A9lWqpmHDgWajcYCKrre7k/s320/free_books_online.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
As you saw previously, my book hit #3 on the Kindle Children's free eBook list. *Tosses Confetti* The fun part is, it stayed there ... in the top 5 for 4 weeks until the month long promotion was up and Fall Girl was no longer free. I still have NO CLUE how it made it up there, but I'm glad it did.<br />
<br />
I also somehow made it to #2500 in the Barnes and Noble Nook Store. I have NO CLUE how many books I sold (Not my favorite part about Smashwords ... still waiting for those updates), but #2500 out of ALL Nook Books? How the heck did that happen?<br />
<br />
So after giving away a large (and I mean more than I ever thought would get out there) amount of eCopies, I began to get nervous. What would happen now that it's no longer free? I mean it's got good reviews, but if it's not on a best seller list, who's going to find it?<br />
<br />
Answer ... a LOT of people. I'm not saying I'm making gobs of money ... I may be able to buy groceries with my own income next month though ... but I am saying it is actually still selling. It's down to $0.99 and the numbers keep climbing. I may be easily pleased, but I'm thrilled to know Fall girl is just over #1600 in the Kindle Paid eBook store. I mean there are hundreds of thousands of eBooks out there, I think being in the top 2000 is pretty darn good for a self pubbed writer!<br />
<br />
So I'm only 2 days into this non Free business, so I'm not going to go getting my hopes up or anything. But overall, I'm thoroughly pleased. Sure I made a TON of mistakes along the way ... had some editing/proof reading issues ... which have been taken care of! But overall, I'm kinda proud of my work.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned for my next post where I battle it out with myself ... do I self pub the sequel? or do I start the query game again? Oh the angst!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-45379750220446544532011-07-12T09:05:00.002-04:002011-07-12T09:05:52.728-04:00The Self Publishing Project Month Two (HOLY $@#*!!!)So the first month was pretty pitiful. I sold about 20 copies and gave away probably another 15. All in all a big fat thumbs down.<br />
<br />
So, obviously feeling a bit defeated, I decided to put my book on a one month promotion for FREE. Yep, FREE. Then this past weekend I went to Chicago for the NAMI National Convention. (Amazing!) and didn't really have time to look into any of the sales numbers or anythings. Didn't really expect much anyways.<br />
<br />
The weekend finally over, my brain slowly coming back, I sat down to my computer yesterday morning and was blindsided. And I mean BLINDSIDED. Apparently people like my book when it's FREE. Like REALLY like it. So much in fact, that today is day two of my book being ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI8Xs6dfKwGueRCPKsQw8-Gj2-jroU8jvhj2K7kmDI6OCtsfbYQGri1uJUAiqraNOAQpye_hc7FY4auSDstBt3cvYhtNfkII3IYV7DW-OADfPbu19qOVZlIXUT4sprwkvcbpyb0Q8HbGA/s1600/day+two.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI8Xs6dfKwGueRCPKsQw8-Gj2-jroU8jvhj2K7kmDI6OCtsfbYQGri1uJUAiqraNOAQpye_hc7FY4auSDstBt3cvYhtNfkII3IYV7DW-OADfPbu19qOVZlIXUT4sprwkvcbpyb0Q8HbGA/s320/day+two.jpg" width="203" /></a></div>
<br />
Let me break that down for you in case you are in as much disbelief as I am ...<br />
<br />
First word<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TVelJOvYXwENvsCmqyqUw9mslw2U5WpxmJnBerQhh6y6bwRK8dtqEpeMPQ823rDfVWlfdGIMWnohBkSLyeDyq-eGVbSp_iLef15dsCsCXI9W4MZq_QWpETM5_wEY2t-JcztiAkq72RU/s1600/bestsellers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TVelJOvYXwENvsCmqyqUw9mslw2U5WpxmJnBerQhh6y6bwRK8dtqEpeMPQ823rDfVWlfdGIMWnohBkSLyeDyq-eGVbSp_iLef15dsCsCXI9W4MZq_QWpETM5_wEY2t-JcztiAkq72RU/s1600/bestsellers.jpg" /></a></div>
Ok ... Bestsellers ... that's cool, but that could be out of anything. Oh no ... it's not anything! It's the ....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCM3ZA1SwFtpP3ItX2pkG7d8jJ70IZ6ZawJD7qn3lkl-Ph2gXyWdmkicttAgjrJKyK68H8so6gkC4QYRpb-WmEILcWS8of_as7BwhmvTgHToHSCoPmeGiO9Tp_atdxErtInbF8QhPuN0/s1600/kindle+store.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCM3ZA1SwFtpP3ItX2pkG7d8jJ70IZ6ZawJD7qn3lkl-Ph2gXyWdmkicttAgjrJKyK68H8so6gkC4QYRpb-WmEILcWS8of_as7BwhmvTgHToHSCoPmeGiO9Tp_atdxErtInbF8QhPuN0/s1600/kindle+store.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Yep THE ENTIRE stock of Children's eBooks in the KINDLE STORE! And out of the top 100 books that have been listed for free ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5CUaZUho4Uner9gAACTlMdu6OKfldOD-CS4Mu4ptmYkjCwTj5iFWaYFo-3OZcNn_ltkclvESIWyqN83_PVfbFV8a6yIAmYIT-9ZuYXvZA3KftnLBq1DxXZ2YcLEnKsgaJs6Q78gJnzbU/s1600/number+three.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5CUaZUho4Uner9gAACTlMdu6OKfldOD-CS4Mu4ptmYkjCwTj5iFWaYFo-3OZcNn_ltkclvESIWyqN83_PVfbFV8a6yIAmYIT-9ZuYXvZA3KftnLBq1DxXZ2YcLEnKsgaJs6Q78gJnzbU/s1600/number+three.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
That's my frocking book! MINE! And it's only been FREE since Friday.<br />
<br />
So needless to say, I'm kinda in shock. I mean I know that it's just a FREE book, but still. How many FREE books exactly are there on Amazon? (Cuz out of those I'm #32! Just saying ... )<br />
<br />
The moral of today's story kids is, my Self Publishing project is going a bit better than I had anticipated. I may have not made much money yet, but I'm okay with that. Because the sheer number of people who have downloaded and read my novel far outweighs what I ever anticipated, Free or not!<br />
<br />
Stay tuned ... I have no idea what's going to happen after it goes back up to $2.99!!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-46170885252238087792011-07-05T21:44:00.000-04:002011-07-05T21:44:57.118-04:00An Opinion that will Surely Bite me in the Ass!All day long the talk has been the same. On Facebook, twitter, at home and with friends. Everyone is enraged with the verdict of the Casey Anthony trial. "How dare the system let her walk free after such a horrible crime!" I know I've seen it and heard it about 20 different ways since this morning.<br />
<br />
I, on the other hand, refuse to make a judgement about what happened to that poor little girl. I do not fault the jurors whose job it was to decide if or not a woman was guilty "beyond a reasonable doubt". The evidence was mostly circumstantial at best and the two most important pieces, time and cause of death, were missing. Ethically, regardless of how I felt about Ms. Anthony, I could not have convicted her either. <br />
<br />
I'm only going to say this once (and I will probably regret it) ... just because a jury says someone is not guilty "beyond a reasonable doubt", does not mean that the person who committed the crime will go unpunished. Imagine carrying that guilt around. Imagine the life that will come after this trial. Imagine what lies ahead of the guilty when he or she has passed on from this life. The one responsible will be punished, just not in a way that any of us will visually be aware of. Nobody gets away with murder. They may think they do, but everyone will be judged in the end. And we should not go around being upset about this verdict, instead we should pity a woman who is obviously not emotionally stable and who is about to go through (or to) hell after all that has happened. <br />
<br />
This does NOT in any way condone what has been done, its just to say that we shouldn't judge and we should not throw stones. We weren't there. Just because we believe someone is guilty, it doesn't make it so. I know there is something very wrong about the entire situation, but I believe the person responsible will pay a price much greater than the death penalty.<br />
<br />
So tonight, not only will my porch light be on for precious Caylee, but my prayers will also be with her mother and/or the killer, that one day they will come to realize the harm that was caused and seek forgiveness. I know that it sounds absurd, but I believe everyone deserves to be prayed for, especially the ones who commit the worst actions. They are the ones who need prayers the most. Caylee will be ok, she's in heaven (and/or whatever afterlife you may believe in) She's dancing with the angels, something her killer will never be able to do. And I truly pity that person, whoever it was. <br />
<br />
*ducks to avoid cans and veggies tossed her way*<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Dw3Ytiv68qLowUEQ87yi8LAnFZybIMJlPnEqJ5WMlQ9xrp4wlzDHXf0TCm4xhF2eJL3WTvYXXgEjDUjROW42rgfHKUjHv3GGZnJwn3RiDQ_lJPZsce-mdPJ7BQ8inDgL1v17jQKZU6U/s1600/foot3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Dw3Ytiv68qLowUEQ87yi8LAnFZybIMJlPnEqJ5WMlQ9xrp4wlzDHXf0TCm4xhF2eJL3WTvYXXgEjDUjROW42rgfHKUjHv3GGZnJwn3RiDQ_lJPZsce-mdPJ7BQ8inDgL1v17jQKZU6U/s320/foot3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-37751252130233135582011-06-28T20:15:00.000-04:002011-06-28T20:15:16.190-04:00What happens when you disappear ... a bloggers demise<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-XjRAeBXY2cTS-1TemQ1yHu4xYpBej-JbkSrunQZFhlDYDDVECIIqmY6KZ2yLzr28STJ3NtNi0J2VsS9g3Y1Nv_mu-X68Z-Ix3MvAFJjYdNq4DC0qujWp1m1tqel2sLdsuSSQdC9CPQ/s1600/171-0505212043-poof.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-XjRAeBXY2cTS-1TemQ1yHu4xYpBej-JbkSrunQZFhlDYDDVECIIqmY6KZ2yLzr28STJ3NtNi0J2VsS9g3Y1Nv_mu-X68Z-Ix3MvAFJjYdNq4DC0qujWp1m1tqel2sLdsuSSQdC9CPQ/s1600/171-0505212043-poof.gif" /></a></div>Back in the beginning stages of this blog, I was addicted. I tried my best to post every day, spent hours commenting on all your posts, twittered, networked, it was bliss. I learned SOOO much about writing and met some of the most amazing people, so of whom have become incredible friends.<br />
<br />
So, I blogged ... and I blogged and I blogged and I blogged ... and while doing so I wrote my novels. Then I thought, why not expand. I can blog here and there and over in that spot. So I made an author site, a spin off site, a here site a there site everywhere a site site. And then one day it happened, I had so many blogs I didn't know which one to concentrate on. I'd torn my tiny little bloul (blogger soul) into too many pieces ... little mini brorcruxes (blogger horcr.... ok I'll stop with the word meshing).<br />
<br />
I knew at that point I had to concentrate on one and one alone. As my heart lies with psychology and mental illnesses (considering I'm bipolar and all, yippeeee), I focused on my Ask a Bipolar site. Amazing things happened. This past year has been incredible! So much so I'm attending my first national convention next week (Oh yeah, you totally just heard me squee!).<br />
<br />
But here's the thing about that site, it's just not the same. It's a world different from my blogger days. The networking has disappeared in that I no longer network with fellow bloggers, I network with fellow bipolar sufferers. I'll assume you can see the difference between the two. Instead of learning from my blogger friends, I'm teaching others about something they know little about. Where as that is awesome, I miss blogger friends.<br />
<br />
Alas, here I am, a little over a year later, and all that networking I did while I blogged here ever day, it's all disappeared. I no longer had/have time for the twittering, blog hopping/commenting, and constant contact with all my fellow writers. It's sad really.<br />
<br />
NOW I am NOT complaining ... I am merely trying to send out a suggestion to all you bloggers out there. Stay with ONE site. Make it yours. Do many different things if you feel the need to, but keep it all in one. Because when you spread out, you spread yourself thin, then suddenly you can't keep up.<br />
<br />
I'm in the process right now of trying to be a student, writer, website founder, friend, mother, wife and spectacular person. And sometimes one me is just not enough. But regardless, I miss you guys! If you can, stay in touch. If we don't stick together, we all might just fall apart!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1845244417955383898.post-79958525399250935372011-06-07T11:38:00.000-04:002011-06-07T11:38:52.440-04:00Experiment phase two .. do reviews really increase sales?So I want you to be a part of my experiment!!!<br />
<br />
If you have a blog or a website, I need YOU to do a review for me (cuz you love me!)<br />
<br />
If interested comment here and I will provide you with the coupon code to purchase the book at no charge :)<br />
<br />
Let's make this self publishing experiment a success story!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxr-PIQPBqtYwAqnz26PkSGgiHLIPAEPS6DJnj-QOxYUyP0aXVOIokhHbErfNL1-1gQb5XHGvdgKEqIBJHcBIpX7A0uh7SdW-doAGHwrS8ijspwVgBsUVnTufvbnZRbXNOXPZ1_83Nn8/s1600/1091624_success_succeed_business_money_sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxr-PIQPBqtYwAqnz26PkSGgiHLIPAEPS6DJnj-QOxYUyP0aXVOIokhHbErfNL1-1gQb5XHGvdgKEqIBJHcBIpX7A0uh7SdW-doAGHwrS8ijspwVgBsUVnTufvbnZRbXNOXPZ1_83Nn8/s1600/1091624_success_succeed_business_money_sign.jpg" /></a></div><br />
PS You can also purchase Fall girl for only $5.99 this week. <span id="goog_2048768001"></span><a href="http://draft.blogger.com/">Take advantage!!!</a><span id="goog_2048768002"></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05283503033516504436noreply@blogger.com0