<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453</id><updated>2011-09-21T09:59:06.783-07:00</updated><category term='theater'/><category term='kids'/><category term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Today, The Life of a Mom!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-3893165735264399024</id><published>2010-12-20T11:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T12:05:41.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Health Update</title><content type='html'>It has been quite some time since I have entered any news on how our son Charter is doing with his type 1 diabetes. It is still painful to talk about. My emotions still will run wild. I still have to look to God to calm my anxious spirit. There is however some hope in the bleakness of this chronic illness. We have not of course given up hope in a miraculous healing, but we also realize that there are things brought into our lives that we do not care to experience, that God can use to His glory in ways quite beyond our comprehension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as to a brief update. In our crazed research trying to locate answers in an area where there seems to be none, we come across that glimmer of hope. Our family has began a radical lifestyle change in hopes of helping Charter. We are now eating raw vegan foods. This adventure actually began in February, and we did a major part of the transition in June. I want to share the results we have seen and will soon, but I had to at least get it documented that we have/ are implementing these changes. So stay tuned for the journey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-3893165735264399024?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3893165735264399024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/health-update.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/3893165735264399024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/3893165735264399024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/health-update.html' title='Health Update'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-3099172927787908883</id><published>2010-12-12T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T20:45:27.087-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='theater'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Just Had To Brag</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/TQWiRQ-GYkI/AAAAAAAAACI/B6y4U0oSH38/s1600/King%2BIsland%2BPoster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/TQWiRQ-GYkI/AAAAAAAAACI/B6y4U0oSH38/s320/King%2BIsland%2BPoster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550020533300912706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! What an amazing experience. Our two oldest kids had the opportunity to participate in the musical King Island Christmas at the Warehouse Theater in Yakima, WA. They just finished their run of 10 shows over the past three weeks. We had the most splendid time. It is hard to put into words how proud you can be of your children. I just love watching them do something they love so much. Just had to brag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-3099172927787908883?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3099172927787908883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/just-had-to-brag.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/3099172927787908883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/3099172927787908883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/12/just-had-to-brag.html' title='Just Had To Brag'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/TQWiRQ-GYkI/AAAAAAAAACI/B6y4U0oSH38/s72-c/King%2BIsland%2BPoster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-6931093063235029682</id><published>2010-09-16T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T14:40:01.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Women = Emotional = So What!</title><content type='html'>Yes, I am a woman. Shocker, women are more emotional. That is what I feel like I have been this week, one big ball of emotion. I was trying to evaluate if there might be some outside stimuli that could be prodding the waves of emotion. Not being able to put my finger on one thing in particular,  I just chalked it up to the fact that... I am a woman. I have the right to be emotional. I'll be that way if I wanna! So there. Women, if you need a day, a week, a month, or whatever to just be... right now is your time. Permission granted. At least that way I won't be emotional all alone. Wink!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-6931093063235029682?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6931093063235029682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/women-emotional-so-what.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/6931093063235029682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/6931093063235029682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/09/women-emotional-so-what.html' title='Women = Emotional = So What!'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-6364908382841311482</id><published>2010-03-04T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T16:29:48.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fast Lane</title><content type='html'>Wow, I can hardly believe that it is a year since I got my first speeding ticket... I blogged a bit about this when it happened being how it was "so detrimental" and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was reflecting on this not so shinning moment, it kinda got me started down another path of thought. When looking back, the bottom line was, I was going too fast no matter what the reason was, and I was clearly made to slow down at that moment in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what about everyday life? Don't we often find ourselves speeding through everyday life? I know for me that this is just a fact that the fast lane is where I gravitate towards. There is always so much to do. There is no need to go into my list here because let's face it, we all have our own lists, and the base they are made up of look pretty much the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes though, we need to get out of the fast lane. Sometimes, we need to find the nearest exit and take it! Sometimes, we need to take the exit, and we don't. I have had a bit of each this week. Last Friday, I decided to take an "exit." We packed up the kids and headed out of town for a few days. It was great to have a break from the typical go go go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, apparently God wanted me to take another "exit." I wound up sick this week. Clearly this took me straight out of the fast lane. As miserable as being sick is, It has given me a bit of "me" time. The house looks crazy, but on the inside, I feel great. I read a couple books, read from my Bible, and spent some time with the Big Guy,... you get the picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom line? Don't be afraid to take an exit from the fast lane every once in a while. Don't forget to stop and smell the roses, and don't ignore the Voice that tells you sometimes, you just need to be still.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-6364908382841311482?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6364908382841311482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/03/fast-lane.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/6364908382841311482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/6364908382841311482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/03/fast-lane.html' title='The Fast Lane'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-5630976404599714313</id><published>2010-02-23T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T14:28:44.550-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Your Love</title><content type='html'>I am weak, but you are strong. In your arms I am held in comfort and love. There is nothing in me or about me that is good, but You in me Lord changes all of that. As I give myself to you, and step away from myself, I am preparing room for you. As You inhabit my heart and my life, I am changed.  The creature I once was is dying away, and I do not miss her. My only regret would be not letting go sooner. Life may break my heart, but You heal it. Joy abounds in You. Grace abounds in You. Mercy... Your mercy never fails.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-5630976404599714313?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5630976404599714313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-your-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/5630976404599714313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/5630976404599714313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-your-love.html' title='Oh, Your Love'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-4738355339740874512</id><published>2010-01-25T22:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T22:45:11.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rough night last night.</title><content type='html'>Charter accidentally took the wrong insulin... long night with no sleep checking his BSL like a wild woman making sure we kept him in range. Crying silent tears, screaming silent screams, so no one would hear. Calling out to my Saviour, His comfort gets me through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Gma and Gpa Davis celebrated their 68th wedding anniversary. WOW! 68 years. Can you imagine. I love what a testament to love and commitment that is. They rock. What a great example in a society where people could care less about commitment, and care ALL about what makes them feel good at the time. My hat goes off to people who have the guts and courage to do the right thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to bed now. my pillow is calling my name as I type this jumble of nonsensical words. Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-4738355339740874512?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4738355339740874512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/01/rough-night-last-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4738355339740874512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4738355339740874512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/01/rough-night-last-night.html' title='Rough night last night.'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-3577351076073529594</id><published>2010-01-12T18:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T20:03:19.942-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Question From God?</title><content type='html'>As I was studying today, I read about a man who had been asked a question by God. This man was asked "If I could give you one gift today, what would it be? If I had a silver platter out in front of you, what might you pick from it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was shocked at how this question seemed so profound to me. At how I was suddenly caught off guard, how I instantly felt so small. I could not grasp nor even begin to comprehend the thought of God Himself, the Author of life, the Creator of the entire Universe standing in front of ME, offering me a gift of whatever I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want. Now there is an interesting word that congers up many different thoughts and emotions. By definition... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want: To desire greatly; wish for: To have need: The condition or quality of lacking something usual or necessary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about the word gift? &lt;br /&gt;Gift: Something that is bestowed voluntarily and without compensation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I pondered on what I myself might ask God for, visions of money, success, and countless other things of this world poured through my mind. Then all of those thoughts came to a halt when I saw the face of my son, Charter. That was it! I would use my one gift to have the Lord heal my son of diabetes. Tears began to burn as I envisioned how this would change his life. Oh, what an amazing gift it would be! To watch my son be healed from this daily agony. What a glorious gift! My heart began to sing as I envisioned my own heart being healed of one its greatest pains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind yet again stopped dead in its tracks. I felt sick, the room began to spin. In that moment, I knew the Lord a little bit better. I knew Him and understood Him in a way I have heard about, but never before had it been this real to me. It made my stomach drop. What made me go stone cold you ask? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I realized that I already posses the only gift that I ever need from God. I have received the gift of salvation. God though, being God and all, one upped that and blessed me even further by sharing that same gift with my husband and all three of my children. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did this make me understand God more though?  A simple word... sacrifice. He knows all too well the dreaded word. He understands what it is like to watch His child suffer, to watch His child in pain... just like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This life we live however painful it may be, is only temporary. The pain we endure as Christians here on earth, is truly the worst that we will ever have it. For nonbelievers, their story is quite different. Their life here on earth is the best things will ever be. The ending of their stories will look much different from my own. That thought, the thought of people coming to the end of their lives, and being faced with eternal torture and death. The pain I felt for those people, that pain out weighed the pain of my mothers heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understood the pain in God's sacrifice. How He would endure the pain of a million deaths watching His son be tortured because He knew that it would end. In that moment I could see through His eyes that pain and sacrifice are sometimes allowed. That there are things we can not always see, and that in the end, we have the comfort of our Fathers Heavenly arms to envelope us in His gracious love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if I had to choose one gift from God today, it would be to save even one more life... eternally. To share the greatest gift of all time. I would sacrifice the opportunity for my son to be healed. He already has the best gift ever. Jesus is his Savior. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not that the desire for my son to be healed has gone away, but I know, every time, if I had to choose just one gift, I would give it to someone with a true want, remember want? Want: To desire greatly; wish for: To have need: The condition or quality of lacking something usual or necessary. There is nothing more necessary than salvation in Christ Jesus. After all, things on this earth will all pass away, but the gift of Salvation is eternal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-3577351076073529594?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3577351076073529594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/01/question-from-god.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/3577351076073529594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/3577351076073529594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2010/01/question-from-god.html' title='A Question From God?'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-9063028351171988411</id><published>2009-06-25T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T18:12:11.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Face Paint</title><content type='html'>Charter: "Mom! Dad! Cole has something he wants to show you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my! Cole just came in and he colored his face all the way black with a marker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cole: "Mom, I used the earaser kind, is it a stain marker?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yep buddy, markers on the skin stain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha Ha! He used a dry erasemarker. He thought it would erase off his face too. Oops!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What made you decide to do this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cole: "Well, at first I drew a mustache, then I drew a beard. Then I drew the lines football players have under their eyes, then I decided to color my whole face."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily most of it washed off when he got in the bath. Kids are pretty amazing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-9063028351171988411?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/9063028351171988411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/06/face-paint.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/9063028351171988411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/9063028351171988411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/06/face-paint.html' title='Face Paint'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-4640751041394373242</id><published>2009-06-04T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T20:25:21.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My parents and stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I think I might be bad at blogging. It is clear that I go through random spurts where I will write, and then when I won't. All that aside...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been feeling a bit numb. I know that change is quite inevitable, and such is the course of life, but still, it does not make it easy. When I stand back, there is no need for me to complain in my life. I have great kids, a great husband, all of my needs are met... but then there are the little things that can still bum a girl out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;So, here it is, my latest "thing." My parents are moving. There, I have said it. I suppose that I sound like a big baby. I suppose also that I don't care. I have been trying to evaluate the reasons that I am so sad, and I think that I may have found my "Top 3 List"&lt;br /&gt;1. I know that my kids will not be spending as much time with people that they adore, and that I love having in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;2. I want them to be happy, and I hope that this move is going to be what they expect.&lt;br /&gt;3. As the oldest child in our family, I feel somewhat responsible for my siblings even though they are all grown and married. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you have it... my mind as of this second in a nutshell. My problems that are not really mine, and my inability to not own them as of this moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta Lasagna&lt;br /&gt;~D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-4640751041394373242?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4640751041394373242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-parents-and-stuff.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4640751041394373242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4640751041394373242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-parents-and-stuff.html' title='My parents and stuff'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-7434757403664956622</id><published>2009-03-29T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T19:11:05.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful!</title><content type='html'>Thank you Lord. Everyday You are more to me than I could have ever dreamed. My heart is overwhelmed with the love that You continue to show me, regardless of me. All I am belongs to You. I gladly surrender myself to You. Your ways are always greater. Your plan is always better. Your love is bigger, and You are wonderful. I am thankful for the privilege to be one of Your children. Help me life to shine with a light that is not my own... to show the world how wonderful You are in the unconditional love You have for us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-7434757403664956622?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7434757403664956622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/03/thankful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/7434757403664956622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/7434757403664956622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/03/thankful.html' title='Thankful!'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-1231916730985593557</id><published>2009-03-22T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T16:56:34.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Barfing</title><content type='html'>We had two barfers yesterday... one of them was me. Cloey and I were driving home and it went down like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: I feel like I am going to puke. Cloey could you empty that bag out?&lt;br /&gt;CLOEY: Sure, do you want me to call Dad?&lt;br /&gt;ME: No, there is nothing he can do. Jesus help me make it home.&lt;br /&gt;CLOEY: Mom, I am going to call Dad.... &lt;br /&gt;Cloey texts Dad #1: Are you home Dad, mom feels like she is going to barf.&lt;br /&gt;Cloey texts Dad #2: Dad, mom just barfed while she was driving on the freeway.&lt;br /&gt;Cloey texts Dad #3: We are passing the strip mall in Selah.&lt;br /&gt;Cloey texts Dad #4: We will be home any minute.&lt;br /&gt;Cloey texts Dad #5: We are home and Mom is covered in barf!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Special! There is nothing like driving on the freeway surrounded by cars with no hope of pulling over and puking/dry heaving into a plastic bag/all over yourself. Now ther is a memory to last a lifetime. Cheers to vomit in all of its forms in all of its glory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-1231916730985593557?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1231916730985593557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/03/barfing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/1231916730985593557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/1231916730985593557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/03/barfing.html' title='Barfing'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-8954843049896701407</id><published>2009-03-02T17:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T18:01:45.665-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Before &amp; After</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SayPeIHFQbI/AAAAAAAAABM/JK5yEMTtOVk/s1600-h/Charter+weeee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SayPeIHFQbI/AAAAAAAAABM/JK5yEMTtOVk/s320/Charter+weeee.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308775808499007922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids have a bunch of photos on the wii. Honestly, I am not even sure how to do that. Anyhow, they were looking through pictures from this trip last summer to Lincoln City. Charter saw this one of himself, and all of the sudden my mama ears became more attentive. He said "look, that is from before I had diabetes." My heart ached when I heard this. I realized that he was saying so much more with those words. He was telling us that he knows that his life is different now. He saw this picture of himself having fun, and equated that to life without diabetes. Ouch!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is hard at times. It is hard for your child to look at "before" and "after" in their own life, and at ten years old have such an obvious difference emotionally to how he views life.Charter has kept in amazing spirits considering his circumstances, but he still does have rough times. Thank you to all who continue to pray for us... on the good days, and on the ones that the sun is not quite shinning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-8954843049896701407?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8954843049896701407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/03/before-after.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/8954843049896701407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/8954843049896701407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/03/before-after.html' title='Before &amp; After'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SayPeIHFQbI/AAAAAAAAABM/JK5yEMTtOVk/s72-c/Charter+weeee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-3254252379943363668</id><published>2009-02-23T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T21:59:19.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is just great!</title><content type='html'>People tell me that I drive like a Grandma.  I am not going to deny the fact that I pretty much take it safe when behind the wheel. I don't like it when people speed, and it freaks me out when I notice people acting stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being on the road is dangerous, and I have a car full of kids with me most of the time. I like to take the necessary precautions. What can I say, I drive defensive, in a Suburban, and obey the law. Call me a G-ma behind the wheel if you must. As a matter of fact, I have never even had a ticket, or even a warning for that matter.... until today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was speeding. Not on purpose. Not to "try to get somewhere quick!" Just plain carelessness. I thought that the speed limit was 35. It was 30. I was going faster than that though, I guess. I was passing someone to get in the lane so that I could turn, and BAM! There were lights behind me. I was shocked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled over my car and he asked me if I knew how fast I was going. I told him 35. He told me that I was in a 30mph zone. All I could think was GREAT. I could see the sign that said 35, but that was not going to cut it. It was too late. He took all of the paper work and came back to give me my fatty ticket. I have heard about people trying to talk their way out of tickets, but having no clue how to work that, clearly I was slapped with the mother load.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my lesson in this? If I want to drive like a G-ma, I will! This proves my point. Obeying the law has benefits... like not giving the government even more money.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-3254252379943363668?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/3254252379943363668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-is-just-great.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/3254252379943363668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/3254252379943363668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-is-just-great.html' title='This is just great!'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-5854799804692070399</id><published>2009-02-21T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T15:10:45.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Closets</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today I am cleaning out the closets in my home. The funny thing about that is that I have recently also been cleaning out the closets of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It is my desire to live my life as an open book. You can't really do that unless you have your closets cleaned out. I am sure that you know what I am talking about. Those places in your life, those thoughts that just got shoved into the corner of the closet in a mad rush to make things "look" clean. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;We do this to our house every now and the. Someone is coming over unexpectedly. The house looks a little disheveled, and we shove things into a closet or a drawer. We think "Hey, I will just have to deal with that latter. I hope no one looks in there." We move on with our lives, sometimes we forget that we shoved this here and that there. We become annoyed when we can't find what we are looking for, but hey, we said we would deal with it latter. No time now though for those closets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eventually though, guess what? We do have to get to those closets and drawers. I don't know about you, but I hate it. It takes FOREVER! Half of the stuff you wish you would have just thrown away in the first place. Seriously, there is always garbage and junk mixed in with a few things that may be worth keeping. What a waste of time. If I would just deal with these things the first time I touch them, then I wouldn't be in this predicament.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I find the same to be alarmingly similar with the closets of my life. I "don't have time" to deal with something, so I shove it in a closet or drawer and decide to deal with it latter. There could be other reasons that I shove things in, perhaps because it is too painful to deal with, or perhaps, well who really knows. The bottom line is that it just happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;When it comes time to finally clean out my life closets,  the process looks kinda the same. I don't necessarily like it, although I know that it is for the best. When I sort through all of my "junk" I find that there is a lot that I just need to throw away. I wish that I would have just thrown it out in the first place. There are some things of value though mixed in, and that is why it is good to go through the junk and find all of those little gems. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;My prayer is that the Lord will help me to deal with my junk the first time around. That way I don't have to try to "look" clean, I am clean.  I pray that I will look in the back of my closets each day, and keep the dust bunnies from piling up, and the junk OUT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I thank God that He is helping me clean out my life closets. It sure feels good to be able to have people look in the corners of my life and maybe still see some dust, but surely a lot less junk. As for the closets  in my house, I know those are up to me. So I better get back to work!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-5854799804692070399?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5854799804692070399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/closets.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/5854799804692070399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/5854799804692070399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/closets.html' title='Closets'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-4425058458209888669</id><published>2009-02-18T15:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T15:33:08.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A prayer for the lost and hurting</title><content type='html'>Jesus, you are more than enough. No matter who we are, you are more than enough. There is nothing we need in life or in death but You! You are our comforter. You walked this earth. You know all of our human emotions. You know loss, you know joy, you know pain, you know laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, as I am reminded that my own circumstances are just trivial compared to many, I ask that your comfort will flow to those who need you most. The ones who do not know you at all. I pray that today Jesus, you will fill the holes in our hearts with Your love and compassion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-4425058458209888669?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4425058458209888669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/prayer-for-lost-and-hurting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4425058458209888669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4425058458209888669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/prayer-for-lost-and-hurting.html' title='A prayer for the lost and hurting'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-6117998255067503624</id><published>2009-02-18T14:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T17:03:30.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The hippopotamus Rule</title><content type='html'>The hippopotamus rule. You can only add or subtract like things; apples to apples, marbles to marbles, hats to hats, and hippopotamuses to hippopotamuses. Henceforth, the hippopotamus rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't life be grand if say, we can all follow the hippopotamus rule? If we didn't compare Jane to Rachel? If we only compared Jane to Jane. Then we could truly value Jane for who she is. We could see when she is growing, and when she needs some extra love to help her out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we attempt to compare Jane to Rachel, or add Rachel's attributes to Jane, we loose sight of the true beauty of who Jane is. She is different from Rachel, she has qualities that make her uniquely her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, let's all try to use the hippo rule in our daily life. Let's focus in on the beauty of each person and know that we can only add attributes of each person to themselves. Let's appreciate people for who they are, pray for their areas of specific need, and no compare them to something or someone that they are never created to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are each a unique creation of Christ Jesus. Join me in this celebration. This week, let's all love the hippo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-6117998255067503624?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/6117998255067503624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/hippopotamus-rule.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/6117998255067503624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/6117998255067503624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/hippopotamus-rule.html' title='The hippopotamus Rule'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-255500963057515145</id><published>2009-02-16T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T20:00:33.400-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts you don't want to know</title><content type='html'>So, I keep wanting to talk about where things are at with our journey of learning about diabetes. I find that it is almost easier to talk about it than to write. But then again, I can only talk about it so much before I hit the wall.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing about writing for me, is that I typically find it is a great way to get out all that I really want to say. The problem is, this time, it is almost impossible for me to actually say it. Writing gives me the opportunity to process the pain of the situation in solitude. I don't like how it feels. On the other hand, I also don't want to become numb to the pain. God did not design me to become numb from my pain, He designed me to be healed from it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At some point, I am sure the dots are all going to connect together, but in the mean time, I am sure that it is clear that I am tip toeing around what is going on inside on me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's talk some facts. Facts are not supposed to be emotion filled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;- Adolescent males between the ages of 10 - 14 are the highest percentage of the population &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;to develop type 1 diabetes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;- The warning signs for diabetes are subtle. It can easily become out of control without you &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;even knowing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;- The majority of people have no idea what type 1 diabetes even is. They automatically &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;think that it is type 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;- Type 1 and type 2 diabetes is very different from one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;- Type one diabetes does not develop because you are fat and sit around eating bon bons all &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;- There are no answers as to why you do actually develop type 1 diabetes. There is a huge &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;amount of research, but no one knows what actually does cause it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All of these "facts" as they may be are ridden with emotion for me. The reality of this situation is that we deal  every day... 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I am not just another statistic, neither is my son. We are real people. This is a real disease. Guess what? When Charter goes to bed at night, diabetes does not. It is still there. We pray that we calculate right with his insulin to food ratio. That his blood sugar level does not go too high, or worse yet, too low. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We wake up at night, and often wake him too... just to check. Did he have too many carbs, not enough? Did we give him too much insulin? Not enough? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To watch him in the frustration of not getting enough blood, and bordering on tears as he has to prick himself again, and sometimes again. To watch your 10 year old son injecting himself with something that his body should do itself. Or for us to do the injections and know that we are stabbing our child, and this is not a one time deal. This is not even a one time a day deal. It is not uncommon for him to be stuck 10 times a day. 10 TIMES A DAY!!!!! Most people don't have that in a year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some people don't "get " what is going on. I want to give them a break, but come on, when do I get a break? When you come home from the hospital with your new baby, people come and visit, they bring you meals, they offer to help in any way they can. When Charter became sick, people disappeared, and then have the nerve to ask me why am I hurting them. Or how special, ask me why you have "disappeared?" Give me a break. Get over yourself. Get some compassion. Try for one minute to stop judging, and start loving and walk for one second in my shoes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are so many people that do not know the Lord, and Christians lash out at them not having any idea what they are doing. I am a Christian, and look at me! Not doing so great all the time. Imagine what it would be like if I didn't have God to help me thorough all of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am half sorry that I am even going to publish this post because God has already been working on me with some of this, however, this is a small taste of what is going on in me right now. Ugly as it may be, my mind can not always have cute thoughts of rainbows and ponies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I am very thankful to all of you who have actually been there for us and shown love and compassion. We sincerely appreciate it. For everyone else who can't get a clue, I have no time for you right now. I am grieving the loss of my sons childhood as it should be, and you are not helping.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-255500963057515145?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/255500963057515145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/thoughts-you-dont-want-to-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/255500963057515145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/255500963057515145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/thoughts-you-dont-want-to-know.html' title='Thoughts you don&apos;t want to know'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-8730676743080213000</id><published>2009-02-16T11:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T18:36:03.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My daughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SayXbW1ckFI/AAAAAAAAABU/OCGKmQhaIZE/s1600-h/cloversteen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SayXbW1ckFI/AAAAAAAAABU/OCGKmQhaIZE/s320/cloversteen.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308784557004984402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cloey has always been a quiet and focused girl. She is sweet and kind. She walks to the beat of her own drum. She has such a good head on her shoulders, is able to use common sense, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;has dedication to make things happen. She loves the Lord, and isn't afraid to tell people about it.... that is what makes me smile the most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; She has so many of the qualities that I admire at such a young age. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cloey will turn 12 this year. She is growing up, and walking that line between a little girl and a young lady. I only have 6 years left. Six years to give her all that I can. Not in the physical, but in the emotional world before she will make the inevitable break to an independent.  Her name itself means blossoming and hopeful.  I am watching her do just that. She is blossoming into a beautiful person inside, as well as outside. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; My daughter has good work ethic! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today she is getting a reward... a little fruit from her labor. She deserves a little treat once in a while. I am taking her on a little shopping trip. A pass time that she enjoys quite a lot. What she doesn't know though is that I am the one who gets the real reward... spending time with her.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; I value her so much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-8730676743080213000?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/8730676743080213000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-daughter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/8730676743080213000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/8730676743080213000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-daughter.html' title='My daughter'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SayXbW1ckFI/AAAAAAAAABU/OCGKmQhaIZE/s72-c/cloversteen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-7201111150699661317</id><published>2009-02-15T07:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T08:30:57.937-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I am 30!</title><content type='html'>Friday the thirteenth was my 30th birthday. Throughout my twenties, the impending fate has been looming over me. I knew that there was no escape, I would turn the big 3-0, no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;I was curious about what I might do. Was I going to freak out? Was I going to cry? Was I going to feel so OLD?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched one of my girl friends turn 30 and it did not turn out so well for her. She had this mini emotional break down. Mentioning it to her was out of the question. There was some serious sad times going on with that girl. I actually thought it was quite funny. I couldn't imagine myself acting that way. Still though, what if 30 had some power over me that made me turn into a crazy crying loon. I best not tease, because what if the fate of my 30th looked similar to hers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now the day has come and gone. Here are some of my thoughts on the subject. I wasn't even sad about being 30, not even one little bit. I maybe even felt excited. I reflected on being twenty-something,  I was thankful for parts, and there were other moments I would rather not relive. I was excited for a new season of my life to unfold. I realized that still, I have arrived nowhere, and that my life journey will continue with many lessons for me to learn. I prayed that God would continue to refine me... and that I would welcome the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In your twenties, there are a lot of different pressures. You are starting your life away from your parents, learning how to provide for yourself.  There are many social pressures as typically people in their twenties are in different walks. Some in college, some with jobs, some married, some not, some with children, you catch my drift. With all of these different places people are at in their lives, it is difficult to fit the pieces of the social puzzle together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, for women especially, there is the pressure to look a certain way. In your twenties, you are afraid of getting old, but still clinging to the youth of your teens. So many women suffer from poor body image, and are constantly picking themselves apart. It pains me to see women truly hurting because of discontent with their bodies. I am not excluding myself from this category, I have had my own struggles with this, and I assume they will still be there a bit, but I feel more confident in myself every day. Guess what the best part about being 30 is? I never need to look 20 again! I only wish that I could have felt that way without the number attached to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to everyone who has know me through my twenties. You survived my wild ride. Thank you to my husband. You are the most amazing man ever. You are the man of my dreams, and I love you more than ever. Thank you Lord for all you have given me, and all that you have not. I am becoming someone better everyday because of it. Cheers to being 30! I think this is going to be a great decade!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-7201111150699661317?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7201111150699661317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/yes-i-am-30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/7201111150699661317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/7201111150699661317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/yes-i-am-30.html' title='Yes, I am 30!'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-2201902637424651632</id><published>2009-02-03T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T18:45:09.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today is Cloey's first day on point!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-2201902637424651632?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2201902637424651632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/today-is-cloeys-first-day-on-point.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/2201902637424651632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/2201902637424651632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/today-is-cloeys-first-day-on-point.html' title=''/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-4705701152564811469</id><published>2009-02-02T20:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T20:16:53.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; margin-left: auto; visibility:visible; margin-right: auto; width:450px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="width:435px; visibility:visible; height:270px;" allowscriptaccess="never" src="http://www.profileplaylist.net/mc/mp3player_new.swf?config=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.profileplaylist.net%2Fext%2Fpc%2Fconfig_black_shuffle.xml&amp;amp;mywidth=435&amp;amp;myheight=270&amp;amp;playlist_url=http://www.profileplaylist.net/loadplaylist.php?playlist=44982383&amp;amp;t=1233634312" menu="false" quality="high" width="435" height="270" name="mp3player" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" border="0"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.profileplaylist.net"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.profileplaylist.net/mc/images/create_black.jpg" border="0" alt="Get a playlist!" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mysocialgroup.com/standalone/44982383" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.profileplaylist.net/mc/images/launch_black.jpg" border="0" alt="Standalone player" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mysocialgroup.com/download/44982383"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.profileplaylist.net/mc/images/get_black.jpg" border="0" alt="Get Ringtones" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-4705701152564811469?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4705701152564811469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/get-playlist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4705701152564811469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4705701152564811469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/get-playlist.html' title=''/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-405824485363275371</id><published>2009-02-02T19:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T19:23:13.742-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids: On the Treadmill</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="date-header"&gt;Saturday, January 24, 2009&lt;/h2&gt;  &lt;a name="5214291372306688242"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt; &lt;a href="http://momsizzles.blogspot.com/2009/01/kids-on-treadmill.html"&gt;Kids: On the Treadmill&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My kids decided to play on the treadmill. I happen to be on the computer at the time and was able to capture "adventure." I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe. They say the funniest things! When you read zzzzzzz, that is the sound of dragging body parts on the moving treadmill. Yep, this one is a doozy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter:&lt;/strong&gt; Don't put your fingers on that, use a punching bag.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cole on the treadmill:&lt;/strong&gt; You guys have to go away with this one. I am going to do this tread mill alone. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter: (&lt;/strong&gt;ZZZZZZ). You are getting a hole in your shoe! Hurry up, get out of my way! If you just let go, it will be over. (ZZZZZZ.) Okay Cole, you are going to get a hole in your shorts!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cloey:&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, it could even put a hole in your boxers. (laughing amongst themselves.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter:&lt;/strong&gt; Do you know how long this has taken you? FIVE MINUTES. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cloey:&lt;/strong&gt; Actually, it has been 10 minutes and 40 seconds. It's my turn…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter:&lt;/strong&gt; LET GO COLE!!! &lt;span style=""&gt;(Cole lets go and flies off the treadmill... &lt;/span&gt;SWISH!!!)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cloey:&lt;/strong&gt; Finally.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cloey on the treadmill: &lt;/strong&gt;Look, I am going six miles an hour. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter on the treadmill:&lt;/strong&gt; Watch me go to eight. This is how a man does it. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cloey:&lt;/strong&gt; You are gonna die Charter. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter: &lt;/strong&gt;Cloey, watch me… be prepared to pull the safety cable.  &lt;span style=""&gt;(He lets go and flies off the treadmill ...&lt;/span&gt;SWISH!!!)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cloey on the treadmill: &lt;/strong&gt;Let me go now. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter:&lt;/strong&gt; Cloey, you are going to die. Prepare to pull it. (Cloey flies off the treadmill... SWISH!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cloey:&lt;/span&gt; AWWWW!!! That was fun!!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter:&lt;/strong&gt; (most sarcastic voice ever) That is how a woooman does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cloey:&lt;/strong&gt; Don't push me! CHARTERRRRRR.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Let me! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter:&lt;/strong&gt; Hey, why did you pull the safety cable? Order in the court. Who will be next? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cole on the treadmill:&lt;/strong&gt; I am too scared to do it. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter:&lt;/strong&gt; You did it once, you can do it again. Prepare to be launched. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cole:&lt;/strong&gt; WAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! (Cole flies off the treadmill... SWISH!!!) I beat my record! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter:&lt;/strong&gt; Let's see if we can do two at a time. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cloey:&lt;/strong&gt; NOOOOOOOO!!!That is a bad idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charter on the treadmill:&lt;/strong&gt; Goodbye sweet life, see you in the afterworld. 8.5 miles an hour! YESS!!! (SWISH!!!) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-405824485363275371?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/405824485363275371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/kids-on-treadmill.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/405824485363275371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/405824485363275371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/kids-on-treadmill.html' title='Kids: On the Treadmill'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-5080706945636242929</id><published>2009-02-02T19:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T19:21:45.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Mornings, GRRR!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="date-header"&gt;Monday, January 26, 2009&lt;/h2&gt;  &lt;a name="5686405164148185651"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt; &lt;a href="http://momsizzles.blogspot.com/2009/01/early-mornings-grrr.html"&gt;Early Mornings, GRRR!&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;   When I woke up this morning, I felt a little funky. I am not talking sick, I just mean that there was not joy in my heart. I thought &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;desperately&lt;/span&gt; of ways that I could somehow get out of going to work. I wanted to stay home with my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;kids&lt;/span&gt;. The problem with being a new business owner is though, that the buck stops here. Metaphorically and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;.... if I just keep sleeping, reality might go away. What if I Just flat out don't get up? Why should I have to do this? It is just not fair!!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;AWWWWW&lt;/span&gt;!!!! I was on a train to nowhere real fast and was not sure how to pull myself out of this funked mood. Clearly my disillusionment of staying home was not going to happen and I needed to get my rear in gear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are the first person that people see in the morning at the coffee shop, there are certain expectations &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; people have of you to start their morning out just right. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Frowny&lt;/span&gt; faces and crappy moods are not going to cut it people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to turn to the only place that I knew for help. I took a quiet moment with the Lord. I have to say that this is usually the ticket for me. However, this time it was not enough. I basically had one chance left, and absolutely no time. But in a last ditch effort, I grabbed my Bible. I don't know what I was looking for, maybe a sign? But somehow, I must have gotten the right perspective and then BOOM! There it was, just what I needed when I needed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Psalm 32&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;h5&gt; Of David. A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;maskil&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;sup&gt;[&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=psalm%2032&amp;amp;version=31#fen-NIV-14357a" title="See footnote a"&gt;a&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/h5&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14357" class="sup"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt; Blessed is he&lt;br /&gt;      whose transgressions are forgiven,&lt;br /&gt;      whose sins are covered. &lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14358" class="sup"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt; Blessed is the man&lt;br /&gt;      whose sin the LORD does not count against him&lt;br /&gt;      and in whose spirit is no deceit. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14359" class="sup"&gt;3&lt;/span&gt; When I kept silent,&lt;br /&gt;      my bones wasted away&lt;br /&gt;      through my groaning all day long. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14360" class="sup"&gt;4&lt;/span&gt; For day and night&lt;br /&gt;      your hand was heavy upon me;&lt;br /&gt;      my strength was sapped&lt;br /&gt;      as in the heat of summer.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Selah&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14361" class="sup"&gt;5&lt;/span&gt; Then I acknowledged my sin to you&lt;br /&gt;      and did not cover up my iniquity.&lt;br /&gt;      I said, "I will confess&lt;br /&gt;      my transgressions to the LORD "—&lt;br /&gt;      and you forgave&lt;br /&gt;      the guilt of my sin.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Selah&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14362" class="sup"&gt;6&lt;/span&gt; Therefore let everyone who is godly pray to you&lt;br /&gt;      while you may be found;&lt;br /&gt;      surely when the mighty waters rise,&lt;br /&gt;      they will not reach him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14363" class="sup"&gt;7&lt;/span&gt; You are my hiding place;&lt;br /&gt;      you will protect me from trouble&lt;br /&gt;      and surround me with songs of deliverance.&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Selah&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14364" class="sup"&gt;8&lt;/span&gt; I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;&lt;br /&gt;      I will counsel you and watch over you. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14365" class="sup"&gt;9&lt;/span&gt; Do not be like the horse or the mule,&lt;br /&gt;      which have no understanding&lt;br /&gt;      but must be controlled by bit and bridle&lt;br /&gt;      or they will not come to you. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14366" class="sup"&gt;10&lt;/span&gt; Many are the woes of the wicked,&lt;br /&gt;      but the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;LORD's&lt;/span&gt; unfailing love&lt;br /&gt;      surrounds the man who trusts in him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-NIV-14367" class="sup"&gt;11&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rejoice in the LORD and be glad, you righteous; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;       sing, all you who are upright in heart!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Ah,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;there it is. I need to rejoice in the Lord. Throw away everything else and just flat out be glad. When I cast everything else up to Him, He restores that joy in my heart. So, I pulled myself together, got in the car, cranked up the tunes, and was on my way. I may not have been perfect, but I had a much better perspective, and I knew I would be fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-5080706945636242929?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/5080706945636242929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/early-mornings-grrr.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/5080706945636242929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/5080706945636242929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/early-mornings-grrr.html' title='Early Mornings, GRRR!'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-4221004684640429030</id><published>2009-02-02T19:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T19:19:59.877-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sad Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="date-header"&gt;Tuesday, January 27, 2009&lt;/h2&gt;  &lt;a name="9058634000999056638"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt; &lt;a href="http://momsizzles.blogspot.com/2009/01/sad-day.html"&gt;A Sad Day&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt; Today I found out some terrible news. Over the past year of us owning the espresso bar, there has been a young woman trying to get a job with us. She has applied on and off. We never needed anyone at the time when she times she would come in. She seemed nice enough, but I also there were some other instabilities in her that made me think that she might not be a good fit even if we had needed someone at the time.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my customers came through today who is owns a day care. I asked how her weekend was, and she told me  that she was in mourning. One of the children that she cares for...,  well his mother had passed away. My heart sank when she shared this. I guess that's  because deep down inside I knew who it was.  I was afraid to ask, but when I did, my thoughts were confirmed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What was even more troubling is when I was told that she had actually taken her own life. Somewhere along the way, this young woman, who's life had crossed my path, who I never really "knew", had lost hope. Even the hope of a future for her son was not enough. It was not enough to stop her from letting whatever torture that was inside of her lead her to the destruction of her own life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suicide. The ultimate act of selfish desperation. There is no act more extreme to oneself that can be done. There is nothing beyond complete self destruction for the individual who makes that choice. Whatever is so terrible in their lives, that they can't go on, ends in a matter of moments. The selfishness of it all, is that it leaves everyone who cares for that person with a lifetime of pain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Her poor son, mother, father, sisters, brothers, friends... My prayers for God's comfort are with the the ones she left behind in her reckless act of selfishness. My heart hurts for her too though that she felt there was nothing left. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is a precious gift, yet oh so fragile. We must cherish every moment we have. There is abundant joy available to us all no matter how grim the situation. There is only one place that we will truly find it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you Jesus for each precious moment of life. Thank you for your hope, joy, and peace. Thank you that you have given us the promise of living life abundantly, no matter how bleak the situation may appear. Thank you that through Your sacrifice, we can find all of this and more. Thank you.&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-4221004684640429030?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/4221004684640429030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/sad-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4221004684640429030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/4221004684640429030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/sad-day.html' title='A Sad Day'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-2625001342546028496</id><published>2009-02-02T11:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T11:36:54.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Workin' with the hubby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;Today was the first day of a new work environment for me. Today, I started working with my husband. Now we have worked together previously, and clearly we get along well enough to be married for a dozen years now, but working together is something else all together.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am going to have to say that the biggest hold up in all of this is that I am "the boss" of this little operation, and he is my "right hand man." We have been building up to this day for a while now. He would come in early in the morning and train for a little bit, becoming more familiar with the work &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;environment&lt;/span&gt; and how things run. Once we started the training process, that is where things got rocky though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I knew it would be difficult for me to train him. I have trained my fair share of people previous to him, and most of the people enjoy the experience. I consider myself a nice employer, and maybe even a little too soft at times. This is another ball of wax when it comes to my husband though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I use the wrong tone, he takes it as me putting him down, and that is just the start. Eventually I came to terms with the fact that if our marriage was going to survive this chapter, I would need to hand the training over to one of my employees. I knew that he had the basics down, and so someone else was going to need to take it from there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He has been training for quite a while now. Friday was my morning girls last day, so today was the big day. Guess what? We are both still alive, and I think that we are still even in love. I know that this is only day one, but I do love to spend time with him. Now that I am not telling him what to do, I think he is liking to be there with me too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have been so blessed owning this business. God has opened countless doors for us. We have had people come out of the woodwork to help us and love us after our sons type 1 diabetes diagnosis in early December. I stand in awe at the beauty of the human spirit, and the graciousness of God.  I am excited to now share this experience with my amazing husband, and watch our relationship grow in this new journey of life. I think that Tuesday may even be better!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-2625001342546028496?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/2625001342546028496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/workin-with-hubby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/2625001342546028496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/2625001342546028496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/02/workin-with-hubby.html' title='Workin&apos; with the hubby!'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-7591026782037211133</id><published>2009-01-30T23:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T00:00:25.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheese Head</title><content type='html'>What fun! My girlfriend Maureen and I decided to do an impromptu trip to the park today. It had been  while since we have gone to the park with it being so darn cold outside, so even though it wasn't what you would call warm, it was sunny and there was no rain or snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We packed sack lunches, soccer balls, scooters, wagons, our dog &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Littles&lt;/span&gt;, and we were off. I have been under the weather this week, so the whole process was a big deal for me today. I knew that the kids would love this though, so I chose to just go for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we got there, we sat down at a picnic table to dine an sandwiches, oranges, and cheese sticks. It was a classic lunch on the go, but eating it outside is where the fun comes in. After that the kids were playing on the big toys, swinging, playing soccer, running with the dog, and then there were the scooters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boys raced off on the scooters  up and down the paved paths. They swerved here and there getting closer to the half pike on the other side of the park. Being the mom I am, I had them dress in bright colored jackets so that I could keep an eye on them a bit easier. They knew better than to go all the way to the other side, but soon the inevitable happens. They make their way back over to me asking if we can go to the half pike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maureen's kids are younger than mine so I told the boys we would go latter. That way there would be no temptation for the little kids to be in a place that they surely should not be. The boys accepted that answer and were off again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we kept visiting and keeping an eye on the the kids playing, suddenly Maureen was asking about my boys. "Is that playing or fighting?" I said it could be either one, but decided to check it out. You know, no matter how long I have been a mother to sons, I don't think that I will ever quite understand their relationship with each other. It is always so physical. Play or fight, it looks so much alike. They are always all over each other rolling and wresting or whatever. Boys are just different. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I got to them, it was clear that we were on their way to ugly. No one was hurt... yet, and no one was crying... yet. At this stage in the game, it is usually moments away from disaster. As I was breaking things up, they were both quick to tell me their side of the story. It was my job to decipher the jumble of words and unlock the secret code of truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out the fight is over a hat. Not just any hat though, it is a big foam cheese head hat. Yes, I said the word cheese and hat in the same sentence. The thing is shaped like a construction workers hat, but looks like aged cheese with holes all over it. It is atrocious. I have actually tried to give it away multiple times, but it never quite leaves. The more I loathe the cheese head, the more the kids love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon further investigation (yes, parents are detectives on the side) I find that my youngest stole the hat, that was his, from his brother, who was wearing it. Then my oldest got mad and went after my youngest. My youngest decided to throw a scooter at my oldest (thank God he missed) in an attempt to keep his brother back, and then they were on the ground after that. Whew! That was a mouthful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that to say, I had to come up with a punishment. So I told them no half pike. I was bummed out about this. It was nice to have them out playing, but I also needed them to see consequences quickly. They were naturally mad at me about this, and tried to make up with each other so I would let them stay and play. I &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; wanted to cave, but my better sense won out. If I cave now on this, they will they to steam roll me later on something of much more consequence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a mom isn't always about what I want. It is not always about the kids getting what they want. It is about trying to do the right things when it counts. I am glad we went to the park. I am sad they didn't get to finish playing. I am glad though, that there was a life lesson learned for all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-7591026782037211133?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/7591026782037211133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/cheese-head.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/7591026782037211133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/7591026782037211133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/cheese-head.html' title='Cheese Head'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-1333201410534185693</id><published>2009-01-29T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T13:00:00.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why now.</title><content type='html'>I have wanted to put a blog together for some time now. I am going back and pulling some of my posts from different places together so that I can actually get some continuity. One of the main things is that there are so many questions regarding our sons new diagnosis of type one diabetes. I would like to keep everyone in the loop, but at times it is too hard to talk about, or I am just too emotionally exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that this will be a great tool to share a little more in depth about our journey. Thank you to everyone who has been walking through this with us, and praying for us as well. It is only through the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;strength&lt;/span&gt; of the Lord that we take each step.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-1333201410534185693?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1333201410534185693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/1333201410534185693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/1333201410534185693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-now.html' title='Why now.'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7841129906588226453.post-1727373796554523602</id><published>2009-01-29T12:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T12:34:51.001-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts...</title><content type='html'>Chaos. That is sometimes what I hear in the background of my home. No one ever said that home school was going to be easy, but through the constant chatter, messes and craziness, I find myself more content and less "what was I thinking?" all of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have almost always worked at one level or another. There was a sweet period of time where that did not have to happen. It was a hard time, but it was beautiful. I felt tortured when I had to return to work, especially out of the home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot of moms who work. I am not knocking this, but when I watch how quickly my children grow, it pains me. I know that everyone tells you how quickly it goes by, but as my children grow older, I realize the truth behind this statement more and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend wrote some beautiful words today that captured the essence of where my heart is. "How we spend our days really is important!" That is pure and simple truth. So I share the challenge. Stop. Evaluate. Choose. How will you spend your day? Each moment of life matters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7841129906588226453-1727373796554523602?l=todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/feeds/1727373796554523602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/1727373796554523602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7841129906588226453/posts/default/1727373796554523602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://todaythelifeofmom.blogspot.com/2009/01/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts...'/><author><name>Mrs. Lantrip</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01810717708771393500</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0vWtluAAz_k/SXungHUUtrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/8CxmuxVA-0w/S220/105_3152.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
