tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11120146487021886562024-03-04T23:10:28.537-05:00Keeping Up With the Joneses...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger114125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-10319561970138185372011-07-15T15:29:00.003-04:002011-07-15T15:44:19.565-04:00I Was Here<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I Was Here</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">You will notice me<br />I'll be leaving my mark like initials carved<br />In an old oak tree, you wait and see<br /><br />Maybe I'll write like Twain wrote<br />Maybe I'll paint like Van Gogh<br />Cure the common cold, I don't know<br />But I'm ready start 'cause I know in my heart<br /><br />I wanna do something that matters, say something different<br />Something that sets the whole world on its ear<br />I wanna do something better with the time I've been given<br />I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life<br />Leave nothing less than something that says I was here<br /><br />I will prove you wrong<br />If you think I'm all talk, you're in for a shock<br />'Cause this dream's too strong and before too long<br /><br />Maybe I'll compose symphonies<br />Maybe I'll fight for world peace<br />'Cause I know it's my destiny<br />To leave more than a trace of myself in this place!<br /><br />I wanna do something that matters, say something different<br />Something that sets the whole world on its ear<br />I wanna do something better with the time I've been given<br />I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life<br />And leave nothing less than something that says I was here<br /><br />And I know that I, I will do more than just pass through this life<br />I'll leave nothing less than something that says I was here<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><br />I was here<br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">-Lady Antebellum</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I wanna do something that matters, something that says I was here.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Great song.... Great words to aspire to.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-91546905881339547292011-01-25T15:42:00.004-05:002011-01-25T16:17:49.414-05:00My Beauties...<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">WARNING: Shameless dog mom post ahead... I just can't help it!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I took the girls to the doggie spa (the groomer) on Saturday and they came home smelling so sweet and looking so pretty that I just had to snap a couple of pictures to share.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Mw3RUfOAusHNB2cf6YhLcGR2m-D2jh3bf11icByEsqtlpyWbHxhOIUTRTmr7Od9wkVrOowS9ptwnOaQLD9Es1tFcVDMEFWNxtSvrFmOQgew7HsWnYjiAWIzAMw3iHkr7aPYWHEfn6xw/s400/IMG_2025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566230043911740610" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My Sweet Petunia (a.k.a. Tunie) - This girl is a little bundle of love and energy. She's the most snuggly dog I've ever had and would be perfectly content just spending the day in your lap. She drools like crazy when she sleeps and has a bit of an underbite, but we love her anyways! She doesn't know the meaning of the word 'fear', and can often be seen running around the house at mach speed as if her hair were on fire (usually with a pair of stolen socks in her mouth). She loves everyone and everything and has been such a fun little addition to our family.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSZ_9QbppSfdN2k1Tw50QUjFKs1bQxvKIu9hhiWQwhRbldpNRI8uGtsE-cYygB24_26xQNL50as7TcyJg11t3UZraQModO_bYjPyECZVlVAJanbi71fQzPmjlI79DDDUNZLOwPY9i6UU/s400/IMG_2040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566227943572079490" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Miss Cookie (a.k.a. The Monster) - This little girl is the best thing that has ever happened to me (right along with Steve, of course). She likes to think she's the Queen of the house, but she's also afraid of her own shadow. She lives to see Steve come walking in the door every day, and I swear there are times when she would flip me "the bird" if she had fingers. She snores like an old man when she sleeps and could sleep 24 hours a day if we let her. She also has Steve absolutely wrapped around her teeny tiny paw. She's been the best dog I've ever had in my life and brings so much joy into our home every single day.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I love these two more than is probably considered normal, but I don't care. I know they're not human kids... But they're OUR kids. They are the center of our world here in the Jones house and we couldn't imagine it without them!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-58106557871490876862011-01-04T17:41:00.002-05:002011-01-04T17:56:11.244-05:00HOMERUN!!!<div style="text-align: center;">Yesterday at 3:00pm, I had a follow-up MRI with my endocrinologist. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">At 4:25pm, I was given the "all clear". </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">For the first time in at least 7 years, I am officially TUMOR FREE!!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I cannot even begin to say how relieved and excited I am. I was so beside myself at the doctor's office that I had to sit there for about 15 minutes before I drove home. I honestly didn't know if this day would ever come. There were so many times that I wondered if the headaches and side effects were just something I was going to have to learn to live with. It's scary, but I started to understand why people with chronic conditions sometimes start to lose it. There were so many times that I thought to myself, "I am done!" </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It's been one loooooong roller-coaster ride filled with too many ups and downs to count. Seeing as how I've never really been a huge fan of roller-coasters anyway, it sure is nice to say, "See ya later! I'M GETTING OFF!!!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Thanks so much to my family and friends for listening to me whine, being my cheerleaders, and keeping my spirits up when I needed it. Without you all, I never would have made it through this with my sanity (or whatever is left of it). I can't say it enough... I am a lucky, lucky girl!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am SO looking forward to 2011 and all it has in store for us! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-89746472299296958572010-12-22T17:51:00.020-05:002010-12-25T12:07:33.965-05:00A Day of Love and Happiness...<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Some have been asking for more wedding pics... So here are some (ok... a TON) of my favorites from our big day!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Enjoy!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWrGp6VauC-W9Dx42P0Sqx9FjMgScQaVoA9w5tJosqbSUcHunCdev6lWDEsLcWN6Gv2y4VIcgkgR9uHnHpq-VTgprXnGCP4q5L0g7t0zIET7j6FtNtNI4bxxfEYvPSgN1v__syFUJBMDE/s400/0016.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554388158267296450" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Seeing each other for the first time!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIeoGGaYsBOzwpOGHvLW17Ag833OwjoxEzECfXompAWNba0ITdRLx2A7gHr7c8nclNqVokpRUlEwo6WAvCfP7ZqLhE0P492A4T7nf2dVrDryB4ybFDgRGLtNPc2VQZstM5uaSqu_cX0gw/s400/0090.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554388152797483010" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfm0KqlZElL5rxIq_tOEKv1P8M_q0yAgyhqcd18FEEX-k-YeT522dH2PFQ62GMipl2SuyckVvsQyb3uLFzbXvqrfkxWBO1ysD-LvzuyUhCM0DWO1LOW8Tcuumy4XZUUoMLKQOR8R-SjIQ/s400/0117.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554388145491273234" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My bridesmaids, Jennifer (Steve's sister) and Dustin</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8vhDnNXo7Jou4SoSXAha7A612OFmq8H-jrCqon7m5jdFwCHnag5HpfJthFaRJvJ3GvXJgoLM58UKj_iWzUy7xc9PW-ZRmH-vUKb50w0Wgpj7znhFCpkckShnROw3V95l82abU5-pHXc/s400/0192.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554384164853124146" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1-H5YxrEip386p-BUpyfEUjFhbUJBkIAFBjyKBEOO5kaSGUSazzMjB7wg6s689QxfhUf1eQyQoy5HkZs4DrD4VQPfR_xi_m2GUPF7OWLMa0mQvL_BCohqnrO5z3XhHbfDsw-_vH-Flc/s400/0198.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554384165395917186" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Bridal Party... having fun!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0us6M3D7XRMV-QHq94vd42WboxsPbFoxqTU2dUu3eeIPqFr3yp5pA4jqnxPJV6JrNUlf7BWORYftEB_KgO91J8zKkxaBao4qBQHSD4fLBoMfd9O85TgJed-sNMgqnUTAbVk82JwSbL4I/s400/0207.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554384156631102322" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Such handsome guys!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnJ7pBvJuxR4k3dyysZMUyKrAYVIz4rnnS9XXJ_7lcRpXqiLE1l21XD7Cn9_72owhckUHhzVFHiU6I5O0cMZvdCziKPFj2ulj6ron3VbA1ah5FvRB1fLo0bZw3MEkvM8MFADv1UJJqzMg/s400/0221.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554018380922200162" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRdVpfiC-sSZZ35OrWAGZdfGTPeJUb9e4oyY-GxKPLqOVKjFxOZpNjKX8uflz5VjF6M8syUb5V5bj9Pu93I8vizs1Je20MrBMVd_nEmcnUsNMQMhqsq3NTGofASaJqMFrzFAokQyusCk/s400/0241.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554018371155587202" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Isn't she GORGEOUS?!?!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjcTY71OJt3uAUh1kKio50bZhiwCaRkXFhsxE9-2z7eaYgOpK2RBNC1wVFFPOTB1CkN2hvYwVoxGdKyQ4C9MnslOWpAcB6B3lGVi4githXrbAmyPKrQnCuqy5MZpaSH5oVo5Ex3wOUp8/s400/0251.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554018365948109090" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The cutest little ring bearer in the whole world... Braden</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeoF1m7I1P95Wb3SbfQ3jkIGk8i6nZspRzD2d5vq4jG8jbPLnQ85ZT2SMMVWZqO65tSORd9d5V0RGqZwu5jvf67s80uG4wjHdNXtYNrHxDEXGQfZHFrza1Lvtqkvy_qVU_mUsulsCC-kk/s400/0254.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554016503222664610" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our beautiful little flower girl, Vivien</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1hfSWmSXFudMVQXd-3c4PUEPeZzMzUSMeAZjBSEjITsplz_uWsx6PTgSWrx2zpV6-ThMGQZrGqXX0K4WNttKrlCgXqNreJ2pnfN27hpBdWqL64V1mlfLITv-FocmxY9Y2yebUrjZVEc/s400/0257.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554016497684277538" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Here we go....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5g5fSYjwAqruzA60JOrzCnz669y2KxvyNqW7CeAfXkhlpt5c1h7ZbHpNJzpu1yWRNY34ZzaSa1q7sT9R0h2Gd3X2qDK4_9jViFgk_jn3HzSyN6gtVhmo7SvDigTvZyRRzKTXTYBaX7CM/s400/0292.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554015328075845426" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HoDvSHIqsxjh9neAa94Kflhi14vGn43pHW4AagDYqQjYOyoZGvKUm5iaFrorHfp06NeCn7l-fbADFEeBEoBoWFph4dQ44dXuNPjnOnZi4o6Ww-Xu-uQlmAIkfBkh5dKAK9dNB1fAO3Q/s400/0319.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554010373903656786" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLYV-aKnXPyxoKNmBv1Rewg0OmS4PLSK_OpdfXhwPpktj2DhhUwWy9tU0b-4DKxuwf9vSDciN8cpXlToVNiVbufYh4GMJl8lms1XAbEbOdJkwi9ndrTJKY_Qpaz2xMgCStbNSi5Z43Xxs/s400/0363.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554010372528674514" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Inside the Ohio Statehouse... It's beautiful!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUsVE3TTZL-qKLkZEfYqjCvlmY7_41o0iaDmfXfL7d67xkDmLiQON_9t4iRtAtsjQazLf-W7WtA-vmYQPr9e4xkfIdb9t_IpzxTysgObxF2nU8vkOWKoQhlSHAfekNeYy_jEupr9BnX0/s400/0401.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554010367455971090" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmjSlXOSqJxEf12P4OLMQqyk273rkIqFYDE2im43InAd7ztOu-4IiOtM7skHF4UnfWzcmrzdvvOcSYlUjqOUnS4vxXn2D_DoUp7zkEEq9V2JOcSCZEvVNkS_FrmT03NBykYrlcWz_ynE/s400/0431.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554008437019714674" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH1wljIlGxN14u-cmZaDXQSga5XHAxUKPMav77QG-n_q0TKahRi4ShQ4S-qcyhLqRN4KLjtsJv3SxCXWsPwAV3Ojidjp4U1nATyzspaHOD-qdUapsEcn7JNLF-s-5t5VIC7nYjxZ_Fqj4/s400/0455.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554008432426554258" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Mr. GQ</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 367px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3wgYcc2KHJv6jIzF1mbumtY9OXJdu9SgA5ZVMIv-WWpa7TthWg9e8VbL6fBnAQLK3RTQUgd34BOuEXyXMW9HM-G5VL6ql01Uj9Wd49_Xnl2Xx3wKQC_xUOF77LzFzxpxXcDVXqPJy6uc/s400/0460.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554008428351072450" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMhCVcD6wWUuT67lSkg4QgpsBx5_OAPIOlLUJbQ3UIZ74r2Sf7UgG9U4jF_PZ0P_HD_OkVzYn8m7cFcMbUR7BLjeRFrKW3hT09VkhYBJHEMjzyWjlHJEQl7Q8fv5VjC-JMhQXd2TVwFM/s400/0483.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554007038954006626" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0p-goGUIDdp9G3TDuVeAKRzmortWk0SNoxvdk7WsCRYEgZI4xUVONIEKEGEs0g958IdngxwW4E7aiQFskPCxrYez8nnGrdVF0i2F2g_VyUQmZnQohQgWIzuFznldsfTcW6rRJDfO2ykM/s400/0493.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554007033527192194" /><div style="text-align: center;">Roland and Jennifer</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz6YlHSNh8-8sg7fcwv5Rv3QXa4Rjc0Mc7sdKPzNI6945tFuzypgjczmqBiylKi9kM6uydPDdL9CfsnWnrB2uZfda-4lEhS6V62GOiTCsOj7fn756sZg0VkCkLAhqzdRDExJQOql-Wo6A/s400/0499.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554007027642674802" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We're legal... WOO HOO!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpv6JG_0iPoj7oPQV0vcU4BYYw334t2ChtSuC6es2z_XRlPmGKru2DSoeP7UBq214uRUns5bm59cCo-koutix4QERPfFIGfhFe3BkslsOxE4spIrHDAIbYoggv5Pg-eK2nTE8YB5-mpkI/s400/0509.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554005636143990242" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our beautiful and YUMMY cake</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JNof9NpiUHW5HjEiU8sd29BK7NnngYudA7ptwt3RZBdlOXzMpmVGU-q03G2GXsAhZMdYTrdNtmj9bDaap4eZrJ4lDf7RppHpl22ykMZAm688VyrfrPB-mECGIJnJyrIDBf3Z86dtVfY/s400/0519.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554005635138113826" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our guestbook tree complete with fingerprint "leaves" from our guests</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjAqrWa9gy7M3_GSOe-hEMNKzj-UNm2jxpxlYmcdwwrPcEzr_oq-DiJzWp4X6O3kbwZxw8uaEKR4CnggN-n2h42ZaqbwQOMYHvNtJ9BodZZ2mNH1grI9aNj5K6YUKgVAdkMgN4iyEYDU/s400/0540.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554005626063583554" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi6noMmZ3VPSB-C8Mp_89oyNmQM2fIobhe3tHSvsWADUZLdE5umUIPpMsdFZuHcRCZv9JDHXanmZhNQGwU7x3gDLY0TrgnpRj6pCG1174OfUUxxbdeIAKnveAC5MF61CGPXhI3NQgJ0fc/s400/0552.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554003808985288690" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Best man giving his speech</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggswTD9AsMusFy0D1sDcbwzQtwDDWQPQUPb14prt2n3Cj0NXcLCGF1Ut-yxUP-SZ4UyLPsAEfZh0umhrc8A9nuU_Wrip6MH12bzi-tiUtEyjQ_CUOtDszdrF_qINdifej7LST614b9Oss/s400/0562.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554003805655353266" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Matron of Honor giving her speech</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaj_30e5KOpLxZ5TRXrqCppkEKOyw88ucoN-vIQqr8QvBNj75zCzov0dQWFmbtFx7hdQ_nbIg1XVfY2Sl3GiTxAlxqyz3_fQzeFmRyL-ncZYa26HjuboYFmSwlh6i6oceblg5HYjqJs8M/s400/0580.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554003793531371506" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I told Steve that if he shoved cake in my face this would be the shortest marriage in history</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigs-RlWqH7bmk9CJjhyZ_pRF0MOvKTs3lEOAE1h_T1vGl__iINipDnkwqhUlWGiXM8D_ugjjCZMu83n3X_vACPt2jnA5xZeSvNcPGL-6OEkLGlIAKAJZ666AP8wsHIZff5fA_2Y0BAfNg/s400/0591.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553999234815630210" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">First dance with my new hubby!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOxTO8T8E8Z9UfoRTngK5Qi2Ru2-OzsVpxh4tRqBq6YTckwEFHRQH9PX96WZ4abBCIiBjhy2EUsD5r4Lw9x0oTcOjFt4nBYA9hlQDJSHyKL7-8-wNEuoNDjcGVscJ0xlu0TlhlluX3uTY/s400/0608.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553999230682075298" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Father Daughter dance</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4rHz5eNVIzEC1N1Vxk8tp3Gje6TmfWUv5AzepyikHWB-iUydkeU_6tAahENiMKtVs1z7LFHUDjdI3Qfdv6LcYqkiOzYztyr4TOo-pfZ52k69yrz4xussnTacsOk_9dnINbykqsGFYjo/s400/0613.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553999226922821554" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dad and I</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVdbkZeX3-mQRwwvUfc1AoGGHtP8C69MRPbOCOubMIl0VH56g5lkcc7aXbYUS36mOfZ8M0c3WWECef8LQ8IgqIGlcdWOQsmD0x4HtwGqqQ1RQlZhhIKjr30rfqnr7JRnSwEEjsBKmZZYc/s400/0752.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553999223210104098" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dustin and Greg</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9oiKpPPbXS9SgkWaT6tCSye6T_8_Vow2UCpcoxzLkY79X33u7BbI_nw9vFoVD1zf3dDeYIJS4qaJ5nPbRhPNB52PMai2mT1ueptQPiP4n_zreWtted6fcKFq4md1F-iBJKCCQ85F4sQ/s400/0680.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553997257370248482" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">A great picture of THE shoes!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjskCy1ThFjZObro6qfhfwbNkHwn6UaPS_pBvsDI_Xo_WLjCx8n17e27jJhx818w9vhHPE24GtyLfT7vKvl7ZnKkw1AzcIfJYIpP7IHfBgAy5VO7A3HS74HBMPp3z9WjhO1tvGG0mkrPCU/s400/0690.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553997251270602066" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My In-laws... Steve and Julie</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6xezugvXAX27mpM4EPEXNBzGfPDI-xMdKzQHGVQazDnztJSnb-qeQyveonyb7lO7Cmjp6Vc-ndgFOacu8HlYD1w-DnoM8ztGcrNpu1P9nrTiAnlfSN5l2XGAaXan4JjfCaboHFzKS_aA/s400/0695.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553997245569920754" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Sass Ass Bump</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5UWijejXjlY6JJIf116gUForL6Ry1RMlcSgEX0jFgzWBI3-Cim___fOxxrsZY389-0WvPggCijs9aVad905bQZscmnBKyLw_ahg0PHXdHv-GMCBcdDIjyiFJJULwCzO8w87IsCWj56g/s400/0748.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553995577432193778" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Roland and Mom</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmExCjE-tPuHhTkNAsWDzsKf4639pXl7Pve5aLeOe1JYFdITnNTtT4mQSUtl4SKRo6KvKEL12nQqJ0PUja4mI2AgpmxZrGUVxXB4hu68WSWpuRXf0ZZah4BJ7v8zE2kZHenYfcyohxGzo/s400/0771.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553995576023421986" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-80069757845419942272010-12-22T17:12:00.002-05:002010-12-22T17:30:46.004-05:00It Had to Happen Eventually, Right?It's official! Today.... I really feel "MARRIED".<div><br /></div><div>A little backstory...</div><div><br /></div><div>Steve applied for a new position with the company we work for a couple weeks before we got married. He waited and waited to hear back after his interview, but never heard anything. He basically gave up on the job and had pretty much forgotten about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Until a couple weeks ago when he got a phone call that HE GOT THE JOB!!! WOO HOO!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>So today at work, Steve comes by my office to chat for a minute. As he is standing by my desk, a co-worker of ours walks by and says, "Hey... Congratulations!!" in a really loud voice. (I say "really loud" because this person doesn't know the meaning of the term "inside voice".) The two of them chat for a minute by my desk, Steve goes back to his office, and all is said and done. </div><div><br /></div><div>About 10 minutes later... I get a phone call from another co-worker of mine. She is beyond excited and says, "OMG... CONGRATULATIONS!!" I said, "Oh, thanks! Steve is really excited!"... Kinda wondering why she is congratulating me and not Steve. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then she says, "And how about you? Aren't you excited?! You guys are going to have such a cute baby!"</div><div><br /></div><div>This is about the time my jaw hit my desk.</div><div><br /></div><div>Once I was able to pick my jaw up off my desk, I said, "Um.... <b>WHAT</b>?!?!"</div><div><br /></div><div>It became quite obvious to me that she had completely misunderstood the "congratulations" she overheard, and I had to spend the next few minutes explaining to my very embarrassed co-worker that we, in fact, were not having a baby.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've heard stories about this. I've been warned by numerous people about this.</div><div><br /></div><div>Seriously... I am SOOO not prepared for this!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-50592096464135544642010-12-14T17:02:00.003-05:002010-12-14T17:18:07.743-05:00To Wait, Or not to Wait...So... It's been a year. One year since I had Gamma Knife Radiosurgery. <div><br /></div><div>My doctor called this morning and told me to schedule a follow up MRI to see how things look. They told me it would take up to a year to see the full effects of the radiation. Well... that year is up. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I'm scared. </div><div><br /></div><div>Part of me wants to call, get the MRI scheduled for next week, go in guns a-blazing, and just get it out of the way. The other of me wants to continue to live in ignorant bliss... Simply ignoring whatever is (or hopefully isn't) living in my head. Why is it that after all the crap I've been through up to this point... This is what freaks me out?? This is supposed to be the easy part!</div><div><br /></div><div>I have the number to call and schedule. I'm just having a hard time dialing.</div><div><br /></div><div>To wait, or not to wait... That is the question.</div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-24243892004637921262010-11-23T17:23:00.012-05:002010-11-26T12:10:38.480-05:00A Visual...<div style="text-align: center;">This is what it looks like when your soon-to-be husband does something super duper sneaky... And really, really sweet!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">As we're wrapping up family pictures... In walks Steve...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhoKfhAnBUKNC6vzTb6w-EJT-01AzmJQnvODrBLyUUXFqSwZub4JmBQMqkwGjnfUpYRE5rOUU0E_NDEl7ixJYD2rxOEcIdI9MvLfOcuu8IkJtfZqmvhtQmuBXBPTGBlJrlLhXkpzpbKc/s400/0146.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542881614175670482" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> "Oooh!... What's that?... It's for me?!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHGMXbF-qEGqUgUEpvSCGLMHZZ0G08VN9cK7K6YDC5uO8GniulTVlbbxp7XOE699u3sgDUF2oZgww9GBfTw9dDsjMPq_AOoQWEgDNRTsQbvpPJYYfVXaxtkU11TpIvOtewHgGEbqljbKA/s400/0147.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542881075049029522" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm thinking to myself, "Please, please, please.... Don't let this be lingerie."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbcBfhknVe51wgE98o25EzifBy5OIa7KOJr013XhFkLnGOFK5B1PzwxhVmzV6BIqsgZIJnvwvahr-fJmkebaGLuhFwdnuyBZVK2tyJB8BziAE3o6v8RU9WP2b2T-oxtjAezNb7STKbZFU/s400/0148.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542880515962914962" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"Shoes??"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9kZYSAuI-iHtqvUgNFbMgeoh346p9-kH1DMa8KudaHIKw0w2Zd97mRyYrmLIzjVpWSKuHWiLrVe_ZFRxNKjclYwvPgVCm2Ymjw2gugNQteE58HJuX_JvENJSWkaYn53-LoO3X6FLOsU/s400/0154.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542879899216768082" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"OMG, my SHOES!!!... How in the world......???"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYn8O2jRahwsOTtFgCuUgzm3n5Or7oOX3PTH26NZVef-GCjhSou9v9FLAsbnyhYQo2ew-2LbfudISUFlN6w5eOljAsXgcTtPO_tKMR3muxO04LrTGbrxznmny8Gx7C1iL7smuH7MkGaGI/s400/0155.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542878759968399618" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">No words.... Just tears...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirYoFqGL4_Yb57WowIAoTbdlZl913PL59obq2eonHHGKwn4IutSUtTXspHFklT_593Y5hwhsNfSTQ3TcZteql4VbuhIY4qIWJZnBXlJD_lKEiXuQhndDBCAuCwd5_2-2V_UuMDXFK9x1I/s400/0151.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542878211885604034" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">... Mixed with a little laughter.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQH024JHr8S7La0p0CECK38JpPB2v9mZBdrzpJQaEIIvjzZPyo4nrSm02PZGVEniXDlYZx4dQK3bj1aPQ81EeefR1WBMV1GWkfaA35K90XwJz8Pvx71N84LZODpjbt8iFT2r3C_kRHYKg/s400/0156.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542877314219068610" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"Yep... you got me good!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7hfO2Cr95bOeQ_Vc3F-cBSj0OclY2LX286unNZz1DxMxON-BO8o0zJJtPqgpWFsUz7xcVGeXIFsHOKAVRTIEnTifUQT4Ps25Q76VMA1mg56-CdZN9idYiQAf-8N_raWQrWm9vvEmvd4/s400/0162.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542876597852787090" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"Thanks babe!!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PgyfjAJHG5JyOhiZvGR8pLUuRbxjGx21sYFZrz_giMMvjevwvYzUZpCntwVY1HTIy-KSMnrr3Z9zRN6wvRY39ctJpu97I9VwGybnStMcPNO2WhVOUUPqT1waYxwhyVK0ZTUn7nPmmzE/s400/0164.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542875348022332690" /><div style="text-align: center;">What can I say... I'm a lucky, lucky girl! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-21937529379646604382010-11-10T16:30:00.011-05:002010-11-10T17:13:19.563-05:00This Little Piggy...<div style="text-align: center;">Since we are still waiting on the disc that has all of our wedding pictures on it (grrr!), Steve and I have been enjoying looking through our honeymoon pictures. We did SO many fun things during our 10 days in New England!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I came across a few pictures today that just made me giggle. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The pictures below were taken at Shelburne Farms, which is a beautiful, large working farm in Shelburne, Vermont. Our visit to the farm was definitely one of my favorite stops along our way.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKkXBWCZqBPocCh3CbTeVRvOIuGKbk1z0TmGtiqaH84CtNIxVmjZZiqCdtxUEmkaKJtlSDBl5mqZU3IUJ7QSGIcVy00BFzxcCVXOfwYorlw2IEQNmpIGuBc3gTCCJ-E-PooYYHBUUWlM/s400/IMG_1819.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538046431549442626" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This little lady here is Beyonce.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HvxuhAAa0MtpuC6VVVia9mI-O-Qg4YYTm7Epvlaq7YemdCEA9ksVmKCfN6wREk-bP1vupdPYB511qTwpNiIiV5gy8Schx5DwXoKCsjQ-6S8i7g9KDUqEtlUG8ZTsiIG7C7tw1HtksVg/s400/IMG_1820.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538045863388493538" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">These are Beyonce's ten (count 'em... TEN!) babies.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhQxxqz8GFjOq4_M4W2ey0NExM831TeIA1ttzvmsMOXoJFw8H96ezlQ3Dyx2tPifUICK_dl0ZYutZfcFq9OpYqxw1p08jWoErVgn8BJrhDNBBSfykKan4mW7K8_9qgtgwoRKEmtpYr8k/s400/IMG_1821.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538045048013598450" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">How cute are these little guys?! If I could've stuffed one into my jacket and brought it home on the plane, I would have. I LOVED them!! I could have stayed there all day.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqv0-EClt5IMGOh-HcSy3HKpTPYrh05Hn3O2C-d2i7Vvp8ujjICufRgUBie7SmfC-EkYlRqXkGlZdJdqFudOQGXVB23BsefB4KP36L_Wbi2SHHSsXemMoHqthV6Td8egrTXze3VE7jfMI/s400/IMG_1822.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538044446305398114" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Yep... I think this little guy would fit in quite well at my house.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4DGdA4LQLqNf-b47kjogrb8E0AeeMQtuHWSEm0F22XXZWZPL-GMefYEvwERUm5A4IsBIa_bolgQi17E42aYvDqqsdhVNqkCpRUodKzJiCAC6j9fmiEcVtVceaVeR9NE4y5xfe2JRq6AA/s400/IMG_1834.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538043341162105106" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is what happened when all TEN little babies woke up and decided they were hungry. I don't care who you are... Seeing ten little baby piggy butts all lined up in a row... CUUUTE!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp3Oxtq0uUWsQp_KyFiHRkgAGoK7L8DQRdek3VLfw35m3aTq-2EXJkkbcVpGXRJLa5YfqdSyfkdydVLpHqACthalC7G7ys6R6pmNemKqpstzK-51TxDFZRY94zOXwG_AmBpSMRyBk4-mE/s400/IMG_1838.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538041849155594834" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is Beyonce not even giving a rip. She never even woke up!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I guess having ten kids really <i>is</i> exhausting.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-87478936813534177702010-10-07T16:10:00.009-04:002010-10-08T16:07:55.530-04:00My Surprise Special Delivery...<div style="text-align: left;">Since I don't have any actual wedding pictures back yet, I will start off by telling you a story about our wedding day. It's a story I will always remember, and one that will always remind me of just how lucky I am.</div><div><br /></div><div>You know how some brides change dresses? So they wear a big, fancy one for their wedding ceremony, and then they change into something super snazzy for their reception?<div><br /></div><div>Well... I wasn't one of those brides. One dress was expensive enough, thank you!</div><div><br /></div><div>I was, however, a bride who planned on changing her shoes.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>You've all seen my previous post about my Kate Spades that a small army of people helped me locate. Well, those beautiful brown and green shoes are what I was initially planning on wearing under my wedding dress. They were completely non-traditional and loud, but they were our wedding colors (chocolate brown and apple green), and I adored them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then I came across a woman by the name of Deborah Thomson. At that point, all initial plans flew right out the window!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Deborah recently started up a business of hand-painting shoes. She takes things that are important to you (dates, places, animals, etc.), and paints them onto shoes. I had seen a picture of the very first pair she had painted for a bride and they were STUNNING!! So... Three weeks before our wedding, I contacted her. My hope was to have a pair of her shoes to wear for our wedding ceremony, and then to change into my Kate Spade's and wear those for the reception.</div><div><br /></div><div>Deborah said that three weeks time would be tight, but that if we got the process started immediately, she would be able to have my shoes to me in time for the wedding. So, I sent her my list of important items, and she got to work.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was SOOO excited when Deborah finished them and told me that they were in the mail to me... I COULD NOT WAIT to see them!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>So, I waited.... And I waited....</div><div><br /></div><div>She told me that it would take three days for them to get here, so she thought they'd be here the Tuesday before the wedding. When Thursday rolled by and my shoes still hadn't arrived, I e-mailed her. She said that according to the tracking information, they were in the US, and that they should be there the following day. When they didn't arrive on Friday... I was heartbroken.</div><div><br /></div><div>It turns out... They got stuck at customs!! (They were coming from Canada.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Now I realize that these were shoes. Just shoes. This wasn't a life or death situation... but it still made me sad that these beautiful shoes (which were sort of a surprise for Steve) weren't going to be here in time for the wedding. I cried.</div><div><br /></div><div>As we were getting ready for the rehearsal dinner on Friday afternoon, I finally broke down and explain to Steve what was going on with the shoes and why I was so upset. He listened, gave me a big hug, and reminded me that I still had my Kate Spades to wear and that they were the original plan anyways. The shoes from Deborah would still come... They would just be a little late. He made me feel a lot better about the whole thing, so we got dressed up and headed off to our rehearsal dinner at the church.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Saturday morning rolled around and I was READY TO GO!! I was so excited and ready to get married!! All the girls met up at the church for hair and makeup at 11:00am, and then we started pictures around 2:00pm. Steve and I did our pictures first since we wanted to have just a few minutes of alone time before all the craziness started. Then we brought all the family and wedding party outside and did all of the additional pictures. </div><div><br /></div><div>At one point during the family pictures, Steve walked up to me with a gift bag in his hand. He said he had "a little something" for me and told me to open it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hesitated.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Let me explain why.</div><div><br /></div><div>The gift bag he handed me was black. It had a bunch of hot pink tissue paper spilling out of the top of it. It honestly looked like something that came from Victoria's Secret. Now... Steve's not a lengerie buying kind of guy. His little bald head turns red just walking by the front door of Victoria's Secret. That's why this bag caught me so off guard. </div><div><br /></div><div>I asked him twice if he was sure he wanted me to open it in front of our ENTIRE family. He said yes. So I went for it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>When I opened the gift bag, there was a black box inside. </div><div><br /></div><div>A black SHOE box.</div><div><br /></div><div>It took a few seconds for it to hit me.... SHOES! Then I opened the box and saw that they were THE SHOES!! Steve had somehow managed to get his hands on my beautifully hand-painted shoes from Deborah Thomson!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>This is where the tears started. I could NOT believe it! I think it's one of the only moments in my life where I have actually found myself unable to speak. I kept opening my mouth to say something, but all that came out were inaudible squeaks. I seriously think only a dog would've been able to understand the sounds I was making at that point!</div><div><br /></div><div>As Steve was helping me put on my new, beautiful shoes, I asked him how in the world he managed to pull this off. This is where the story gets really, really good....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>After seeing how upset I was that the shoes weren't going to be here in time for the wedding, Steve took it upon himself to contact Deborah directly to see if there was anything she could do. Deborah (who just so happens to be one of the nicest people I have ever worked with), immediately started painting a second pair of shoes for me, and worked all night to have them done by Saturday morning. Early Saturday morning... just hours before our wedding... my soon-to-be-husband rented an airplane and flew to Detroit to meet Deborah (who lives just across the Canadian border in Windsor, Ontario) and pick up the shoes she worked so hard to have finished for me!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Here is a picture of my shoes on the dash of a Cessna 172, making their way from Detroit back to Columbus...</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif6w_o0EgmiEK-yhFF_eSjQfan1eOXgOcIZ5GGiPeAEFqvl-UAYE1Qsdq32YVyUK67r8b3DW7RngYPvDncvEg_nzsfOXJYxi_0-kiclGoCEdb3YD-cfOjniwiiuGAdw11VW959wXrjqZQ/s400/shoes-dash.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525693894632253554" /></div><div><br /></div><div>I know that they are just shoes. But to me, they are so much more than that. Those shoes made my day! Not just because I had gotten something that I was really hoping for... But also because every time I look at them I am reminded of the story behind them. They remind me that I am an extremely lucky girl to have married a man who will go to great lengths to make me happy! </div><div><br /></div><div>They also give us a great story to share with friends and family!</div><div><br /></div><div>I know our photographer got some really great, detailed pictures of these shoes. As soon as we get our pictures back, I'll post a few.</div><div><br /></div><div>If any of you are interested in finding out more about Deborah Thomson's work, you can check out her work at <a href="http://www.figgieshoes.com/">www.figgieshoes.com</a>. She just started her business just weeks ago, (I was the third bride she painted shoes for) and it is already taking off!! She's recently added a few other hand-painted items to her collection... including baby shoes! She is amazing!!</div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-21769553478084415152010-10-05T16:13:00.003-04:002010-10-05T16:21:29.347-04:00Time for a Facelift!<div style="text-align: center;">Yep... It's time to get this blog back in shape!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It's going to take some time, so please.... be patient!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I have lots to tell and lots of pictures to share. I hope to have some new posts up soon!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-74460813479239267792010-08-31T15:11:00.002-04:002010-08-31T15:34:31.001-04:00A "Flipping-the-Bird" Kind of Day...Yesterday was a great day! At least for me it was. <div><br /></div><div>I'm not so sure that everyone in the Columbus area agreed with me though. In fact... I'm positive they didn't.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was on my way to work yesterday at just after 6:00am. Yes, I realize that is considered "supid early" in most cases. But, it's what I do... so be it. On my way down one of the two-lane side streets, I noticed there was a person right on my tail. Now, I was already going about 5 miles over the speed limit, and I was determined to not push it any further. So, the driver just had to stay behind me until we got to the main road that would take us to the freeway. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I made the left turn on to the main road, the driver behind me flew past me on the right with her well manicured middle finger proudly displayed out her driver's side window (and a bumper sticker that said "Don't worry... Be happy!" on it... Oh, the irony). I thought, "Ok lady... whatever. You obviously are in a bigger hurry than I am... Have at it!"</div><div><br /></div><div>And then we came to a red light. </div><div><br /></div><div>She was in the left hand lane, and I was in the right. </div><div><br /></div><div>I looked over at her, smiled my biggest smile, and waved like a lunatic. It was awesome!</div><div><br /></div><div>The light turned green and we made it about two blocks before we came to another red light. She was quite obviously peeved that she didn't make it through the light without me because when I pulled up next to her, I could read the 4-letter words that were just pouring out of her mouth. </div><div><br /></div><div>I smiled and waved again... This time laughing pretty hard.</div><div><br /></div><div>She flipped me the bird again! </div><div><br /></div><div>At that point, I figured I'd turn down another side street and take the back way to work. I had obviously made this woman's commute to work a rough one. And I enjoyed every minute of it!</div><div><br /></div><div> On my way home from work yesterday, as I was once again attempting to make my way to the freeway, I came upon a older model purple Kia Sportage. The reason I mention the color of the vehicle is because again, the irony just kills me. On the rear window of this purple Kia Sportage was a giant sign that said, "I used to be gay... But then I found Jesus!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I thought, "Dude. No matter how loud and obnoxious your damn sign is... The color of your vehicle suggests otherwise".</div><div><br /></div><div>As I was passing the car on the right, admitedly, laughing pretty hard... I took a look at the driver. I'd say he was in his upper 50's and looked like a mix between a Hell's Angel and Santa Clause. </div><div><br /></div><div>I laughed a little harder.</div><div><br /></div><div>He too, flipped me the bird.</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess it was just one of those "flipping-the-bird" kind of days.</div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-76419512156711128772010-07-20T15:20:00.003-04:002010-07-20T15:44:56.892-04:00The Countdown is On...Over the last 16 months, I've been reminded time and time again of just how little I actually know about wedding planning. I now firmly believe that any engagement ring should come with a copy of the book "Wedding Planning for Dummies". Yes... that book exists. Ask me how I know.<div><br /></div><div>Throughout this entire process, I've been asked about things I had never even thought about, picked out things I never knew I wanted, and spent money on things I didn't even know existed. The planning has been long. It's been (mostly) fun. And... it's almost DONE!</div><div><br /></div><div>We're just under two months out now. Don't ask me how many days that is... I don't want to know. All I know is that the time is flying by! We're down to the nitty gritty now... the details, the RSVPs, the timeline, the confirmations, and the logistics. All of the things I am NO good at. Thankfully, Steve is the King of Detail and has enough patience for the both of us. He has been very good about picking up the pieces I just can't seem to keep a handle on. We make a pretty good team.</div><div><br /></div><div>Scratch that... We make a GREAT team!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I've also been trying my best to remember that this day is about so much more than the dress, the flowers, the invitations, and the cake. It is about us. It is about our family and friends coming together to celebrate with us. That is what I am looking forward to the most. That's what means the most to me... family and friends.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next couple of months are going to be a bit of a blur. I'm working a TON, and we have a looooong list of things that still need to get done. But... we'll make it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can't wait!!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-15522996769466396162010-07-20T15:07:00.003-04:002010-07-20T15:19:59.114-04:00For Melissa Jo...<div style="text-align: center;">Ask, and you shall receive... a little late.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscf-waLelMl3FmbcuNda1aYJFKCaiY3hHpIbM17_HVckrQ20HNy71mWErYJvgyxcgaelFvkKv6K45LMTfKlqYrfk6CO_gZVJjLaPiHj3HDx-BHyxdiiekE8TCpKp0oLzq9tjARxzbifI/s1600/1414-front.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscf-waLelMl3FmbcuNda1aYJFKCaiY3hHpIbM17_HVckrQ20HNy71mWErYJvgyxcgaelFvkKv6K45LMTfKlqYrfk6CO_gZVJjLaPiHj3HDx-BHyxdiiekE8TCpKp0oLzq9tjARxzbifI/s400/1414-front.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496068794736425490" /></a><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0V8GyecSRVJoGDGPdur2HO09lQiosc4U_hGavhi3uliI2Dz0it6v0wuOkDLSR7qF970QVF_Tx5syNBo-stMH_LWC4zAvfqH6NhUPqoAjfF5QbUyC0rzMpGhJGOFBkIU0caBVwLU5Axbs/s1600/1414-back.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 269px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0V8GyecSRVJoGDGPdur2HO09lQiosc4U_hGavhi3uliI2Dz0it6v0wuOkDLSR7qF970QVF_Tx5syNBo-stMH_LWC4zAvfqH6NhUPqoAjfF5QbUyC0rzMpGhJGOFBkIU0caBVwLU5Axbs/s400/1414-back.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496067409731249778" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-67429490587399342892010-03-29T15:48:00.003-04:002010-03-29T15:55:39.660-04:00Kate Spade.... I WIN!!!<div style="text-align: center;">I've spent the past month or so on a mad search for these shoes.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 380px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Nnbcq9oivfGSror-1142XoiYLRFtEp8Yf8b4ebMh2nsneln_v0QD4mwr_BfNxy-MIbU9nBl8i2SERN13MAYT0swcNzAVyjfXb_RGTmmH7wQO0ii7XOOh0yCO-ba4jqSV4AF0HH_wkaE/s400/Kate-Spade-Gladly-.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454145945380099602" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">They're ridiculously expensive (for me), a tad outrageous, and I just HAD to have them!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It figures... The one time I'm willing to splurge on a great pair of shoes... I can't find the darn things! Grrrrrrrrr</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I searched high and low. I called stores all across the country. I even recruited a small army of friends to help search with me. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Finally.... On Friday.... They were found (Thanks, Kristi)!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Kate Spade.... You thought you were sneaky, didn't you??</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Well... YOU'RE NOT! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I WIN!!!!!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-49670988789988237362010-02-17T16:07:00.006-05:002010-02-17T16:45:10.742-05:00My Conditional Love for Snow<div style="text-align: center;">I LOVE snow! I really do! I love snow when I can sit inside my toasty warm house with my sweet little kids, bake up a batch of pumpkins spice muffins, and enjoy it's beauty from the inside.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I do NOT particularly care for snow when it's 6:00am and I'm trying to convince my little 4-cylinder Corolla that yes, SHE CAN maneuver her way out of our driveway, into the 10+inches of snow piled up in our cul-de-sac (Thanks for nothing snow plow dude!), and happily continue on her way down our unplowed street to my work. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nope. Not much fun at that point.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This morning... I almost gave up.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">As usual, I backed out of our recently shoveled driveway into the white abyss that is our cul-de-sac. As soon as I hit the bottom of our driveway, I knew that this may not be as easy as I had hoped. I tried to continue backwards, but the tires, which are brand new by the way, just spun. So, I threw it into "drive" and attempted to go forward. I think I achieved a full 12 inches. So again... we try reverse.... and then drive... and then reverse... and then drive again. All the while I'm chanting, "C'MON DIMPLES!!!", hoping and pleading for her to pull through. (My car is named "Dimples" due to some nasty hail damage she suffered about 6 months after I bought her. She's fixed, but the name stuck.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Finally, after stomping on the gas in every possible direction, and seeing my neighbor peer out his front door at me like I'm some crazed lunatic... Dimples and I were on our way!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">As I continued on my drive (and I use the term "drive" loosely because I really don't think I had any form of control over my vehicle until I reached the main street a few miles away), I heard on the radio that Central Ohio is on track to have the snowiest February ever. EV-ER!!! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">YA THINK?!?!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgexD427ilZMOMmB6ZqevJm4AsUJMK-wewnqfr5m_mr3TuKye-GOcfKjDpe_yBYrWvXIbObfYvSDdrkvTiOp1J-KvPOmeX2li-vtxP-9POXzBTkis8OechhaYOZ692EGmU4D8QZ-BV0LnM/s400/IMG_1458.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439324118296209954" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It's kind of hard to see just how high the snow is piled up in front of our house because all you see is WHITE!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcbsGjqhUzjVacTt-8jHsDss_uMtEHlQ5-SAYeyHsWDilkgcxeqyCEKBuJVqcbYiHGdAzOC1GXk3zxlNNTvTSWQY_N_Q2z8NZ8mFqudMNuvqroW1dHmOpXtqf9jTVjY-PpYJS5LL4_V4/s400/IMG_1466.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439323685862615650" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Steve finally had to break down and buy a $12 snow shovel at Meijer when this all started. It gets the job done (and will give even the fittest of fit a great workout... trust me), but he's been drooling over our next-door neighbor's snow blower like it was a swimsuit model.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Maybe next year babe!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Poor guy.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-77622629796525752852010-02-17T15:59:00.003-05:002010-02-17T16:06:48.226-05:00There is hope!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bringing a new "kid" into our family was a challenge.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Cookie growled at everyone and everything, and I bawled because I swore Cookie hated me and that I'd ruined her happy little life. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm surprised Steve didn't throw all three of us out and lock the door!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But... </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_Mswk5NMpkFIYZLUxU06kSmz1DX57Og2YbBYToq5Qv8OAK3l9GHUncNujlpa1tgsIfXxYO_A-A3sckEeYI0VkP7XWf2XE9dEZr-gLyQ5vlNjhd9Rlr2Dvv4d9_pmh8OufH7oMpfBGAw/s400/IMG_1452.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439321224801290178" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">... Every now and then I catch the girls like this, and I'm reminded of how far they've come and how much better they do together. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">There is hope that they'll grow to love each other yet (probably about the time Petunia learns to keep her sharp little teeth to herself)!!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-38560294998970537902010-01-26T17:04:00.004-05:002010-01-27T15:24:46.081-05:00R.I.P. Tootse...<div style="text-align: center;">My sweet little turtle, Tootse, passed away yesterday.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I know, I know... She was just a turtle. But she was MY turtle, and it made me sad.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIDpJRoKyNEwREVkOqTfqe8Qqp-FZQBxxgh6uZbRuCT0SqpHC0wk4W2nTsIR2MuzUlrJHlJBcGtkbzXukLOEcEUBA4hHrNTAqltvvZO8ABLEVuT-WqZKL8hOx_DtdaP3L1t_8W73b2mbw/s400/100_0274.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431174671262847122" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My mom found Tootse on a dirt road that runs along the family farm in Kansas, and smuggled her back to Arizona for me in an earring box... She was that tiny! That little turtle has been with me ever since... from Arizona, to Indiana, to Ohio. She was even a part of the family before Cookie was.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">She was a fun little creature and I'm really going to miss having her around.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-15889114959684231252010-01-09T17:02:00.005-05:002010-01-09T17:27:39.632-05:00Why I Oughta...So the other day, I came home from work in a pretty foul mood. Due to the nasty weather across the country and the heavy holiday traffic, the past few weeks at work have been hell. Each day is just one butt kicking after another. I really really try to leave my work frustrations at work. I do. However, this particular day, I think I had just hit my breaking point, and some of my work frustrations traveled home with me. Anyway... I walked in the door loaded for bear.<div><br /></div><div>Poor, unsuspecting Steve decided that this would be the perfect moment to bring up wedding plans. Now... keep in mind please, that I have been asking him for about 3 months now to pick a DJ. This is the one job I have given him, and it has yet to be accomplished. So, needless to say, I was more than a little peeved that Mr. Procrastination picked *NOW* to discuss wedding plans. We had a brief... um... discussion, in which I snippily reminded him that we were about 8 months out now, and that we needed to get some of these things nailed down... SOON!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Later that evening, after relaxing a bit and realizing that I had been a bit of a wench, I went over to him and apologized. The brief conversation went something like this...</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "Babe... I'm sorry for acting like a mean old hag. I really didn't mean to."</div><div><br /></div><div>Steve: "Aww... You're not mean. And you're definitely not a hag!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh. No. He. Didn't!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am a year older than Steve. And he just LOVES when he stumbles upon the opportunity to remind me that I am a year ''OLD''er than he is. What a turd!</div><div><br /></div><div>I should've just snatched him bald headed right then and there. </div><div><br /></div><div>Oh wait..... (he he he he)</div><div><br /></div><div>It's a good thing he's cute! </div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-84871704887230611362009-12-11T11:29:00.013-05:002009-12-28T15:47:17.374-05:00What a day...<div style="text-align: left;">Tuesday was quite a day... for everyone. It was long, it was painful, it was exhausting, and (especially for my poor mom who is a couple thousand miles away) it was nerve wracking.</div><div><br /></div><div>But... IT IS DONE!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Steve and I showed up at the James Cancer Hospital at 7:00am... bright eyed and bushy tailed. I was more than ready to get this procedure over with, and I really wasn't all that nervous or scared. Just ready! My nurse, Kathy, came out to get me at about 7:05, and we were off and running. My thoughts: "Bring it on!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Kathy took Steve and I (thank goodness they let him come with me) back to a small exam room. She asked me a few medical questions, and then said that the next step would be starting an IV that would stay in all day. No biggie... this definitely isn't my first rodeo. Needles used to freak me out, but not anymore. So Kathy leaves for about 10 minutes and then returns with a rolling cart that looked like something straight out of an automotive garage, and began pulling out the supplies she would need. My thoughts: "So that's where they keep all that stuff... interesting."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Kathy then asked which hand I'd rather use for the IV. At that point, I had to throw up my first "weenie" flag. I asked her if there was any way she could do it in my arm or my wrist. Every time I've had an IV in my hand, it swells up and turns black. She said OK, and started checking out my right arm. Her first attempt (yep... you heard me... her *first* attempt) was in my forearm. She dug around for a couple minutes and was unable to get the IV started. Her second attempt (you're seeing a trend here aren't you?) was also in my right forearm, and this time she went straight through my vein. Burned like hell! At this point, I'm starting to sweat like a pig, and the tears are welling up. I had ahold of Steve's hand and I think he was pretty sure I was about to rip two or three of his fingers off. Kathy's third and final attempt was on the inside of my right arm. Finally.... It was done! My thoughts: "Crap... should've just let her stab my hand!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>After the IV was started and flushed, Kathy told us to relax for a bit and that she and Dr. McGregor (the Neurosurgeon who would be performing the surgery) would be back to place the head frame. So Steve whips out his book, and I just sit there and take in my surroundings. Baaaad idea, Kase! I look over and see not only the lovely titanium frame that is going to be attached to my head, but also the syringes they are going to numb my head with, as well as the screws that are going to be used. At that point, things started getting really really REAL. I looked straight at Steve and said, "I'm scared.", and the waterworks started. My thoughts: "They really should NOT leave people sitting in here with this stuff. If it were up to me... I'd have a magician come in with his cape and his wand and magically pull this crap out of his hat or something. At least make this part somewhat entertaining!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>About 25 minutes later, Kathy and Dr. M return. I've mustered up some courage and I'm ready to take on this big, bad head frame that I'd heard so much about. Everyone I'd talked to about this procedure told me that this would be the worst part. If I could make it through this... the rest was smoothe sailing. (I'd later learn that this was a complete and total crock... but we'll get to that later.) Dr. M sets me in a chair with my back to him. He places the frame over my head, and marks the spots where he wants the screws, and then wastes no time getting started with the numbing. Having the two spots in the back of my head numbed wasn't all that bad. It felt like a bee sting, and lasted for about 10 seconds. The spots on the front of my head were a totally different story. I could've swore someone had lit my hair on fire... It burned SO BAD! Then he started in with the screws. One at a time they were inserted. They did not hurt at all... but the pressure I felt was unbelievable. I told Steve that I was waiting for my skull to crack. Luckily (ha ha), that didn't happen... and it was all over and done with. My thoughts: "Too late to run now... I'd never get this damn thing off!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Shortly after the head frame was attached, Kathy tells me that the next step is to have an MRI done. So, she gets me into a wheelchair and wheels me over into a waiting area. When we get there, she asks me a few questions, like "What's your birthday?" and "What's today's date?", etc. I COULD NOT ANSWER HER!! It was the weirdest feeling... My mind was racing, and I couldn't get it to slow down long enough to form an answer to her questions. Here came the tears again... I felt like such an idiot. At that point, she checked my blood pressure and realized that it was pretty high, so she gave me some medicine to help me relax. My thoughts: "This woman is my hero!"</div><div><br /></div><div>This is a picture of me with my stylin' head frame... obviously well after the "relaxing" meds had kicked in (hence the glazed over eyes and goofy smile). I'll be looking for this picture in the next issue of Vogue magazine for sure!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHwEs3hJdCeLawnZtrkFV__KoauLNHiIgV7ZC891XuPljDJRpw-2Fde9gJolO1LdUXUWsmGcsr4ZAV64YoJunWZYk_FeEORwiDAnJYRi9ydiPgiTXC0Q3EhKHU9rmPcO67A-czhgksSaU/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414044966472550898" /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">The MRI was probably my favorite part of the day. Why??? Because I don't even really remember it. I remember the technician attaching a gigantic metal thing to the metal thing that was already attached to my head. It was so heavy, he had to help me lay down. Then... I was out... Completely and totally down for the count. They had to wake me up when it was over. It was awesome! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After the MRI, I was wheeled back to a waiting room where Steve was. They brought in a recliner and a lap top for us to use, and pretty much let us be... for about 3 hours. I really thought this would be my favorite part of the day as I was looking forward to a nice long nap. However, getting comfortable in a recliner with this piece of metal on my head was just not going to happen. If you look in the above picture... The metal bar that you see that runs around my jaw, runs all the way around the back of my head as well. There are also two more posts back there that made laying down in a recliner impossible. After about 45 minutes of shifting and flopping around, I gave up and pulled out the book of "Brain Games" I had brought with me. Steve decided this was probably a good time for him to grab some lunch and run home and walk the dogs. So I pulled up some Christmas tunes on the laptop and worked on my brain games. My thoughts: "This isn't so bad... I can totally do this!"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After what seemed like FOREVER... Kathy finally returned and told me it was time. I was SO ready to get this show on the road!! So... off we went to Radiology, where they attached a big plastic dome to the top of my head frame, and then snapped me into the Gamma Knife machine. They told me it would be 89 minutes of radiation. My thoughts: "Yay... I get another nap!"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">BWAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA!! I was SO wrong it wasn't even funny. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Seriously.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The radiation treatment basically went in ten 9-minute cycles. The machine would suck me in, do it's thing for about 9 mins, and the spit me back out for about 30 seconds while the machine adjusted the direction of the radiation beams. At the end of each 9-minute cycle, an alarm would go off. Yeah... so much for that nap I was looking forward to. My thoughts: "GRRRRRRR!"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The bright side at this point was that I was able to bring some music to listen to during the radiation. I sat down the night before, picked out 18 songs, and was ready to go. When they told me how long the treatment would be, I knew my CD would be a little short, but I figured it would get me most of the way through (within about 25-30 mins). </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">When the radiation started, I was quite comfortable just laying there. I figured this was going to be easy as pie. However, as each cycle passed, the pressure in my head would build. By the time my CD ended, I was getting pretty darned uncomfortable. I was doing everything I possibly could to rearrange my legs, my butt, my shoulders, etc., to try to relieve some of the pain, but my head wasn't going anywhere, so nothing was helping. Kathy told me before we got started that if I needed a break at any point, to just let them know since I had a handy dandy microphone attached to my head frame. In between the 7th and 8th cycle, the pressure was so intense that I finally asked if I could have a break. Kathy replied, "You've got 17 minutes left... Do you thing you can make it?" I said I could and back into the machine I went. My thoughts: "You can do this, Kase.... You can do this."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was the longest 17 minutes of my life. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Torture.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">By the time it finally ended, I was bawling and begging them to please get the frame off my head. I couldn't take it anymore. It felt like my head was going to explode. Now... as I said earlier... Everyone told me that getting the frame on would be the worst part. I call Bull *@#%!!! Getting that thing off was so much more painful. With each screw they removed, the pressure just continued to build. I honestly thought I was going to throw up or pass out... I wasn't sure which. Kathy cleaned the holes in my head and wrapped a giant bandage snugly around my head. She kept trying to get me to eat and drink something, but I assured her that anything that went in, was most definitely going to come right back out. My thoughts: "Yeah... I don't think I can do this anymore. My white flag is up!"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Kathy wheeled me back to the waiting room where Steve was, and helped me back into the reclining chair. She assured me that if I just laid back for a little while, I would feel better. So, she reclined the chair... I laid as far back as I could... and all of the sudden I felt a gush of something running down my neck and back, and into the waistband of my pants. I said, "I think there's something running down my back!" Kathy took one look at me and immediately started grabbing towels and holding them to the back of my head. The entire back side of me was covered in blood. I probably would've been a lot more freaked out, but all the pressure that had built up in my head had finally been relieved. It felt SO good!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Finally... at a little after 5:00pm, Steve wheeled me out to the car, and we were on our wy home. I was so exhausted that I couldn't even sit upright, and my hair and clothes were crusty and gross with dried blood. I honestly could not have cared less. I had made it through... I WAS DONE!!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I had a couple of rough days at home and was pretty sore, but I feel so much better today. I finally got to take a hot shower last night (after 48 hours of crusty hair) and it was absolute heaven. I feel like a whole new woman!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I must say... I've had three of the most amazing nurses taking care of me. They've worked hard, and I appreciate every single thing they've done for me. This picture is from last night... I think I wore them out!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0UOVIiGbMbZ3hA9MaINEy9RKN3AJmzccbMPKqDPP8UyovVf4HQmulQAzRtS-4VuPOc1j_k_wdDzhcEosPt-yPIdd_nzHf37Jknjlnp3e9kxCHJA3ZlM938O34mebnFahExo_pktg1Xfs/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414044520639396802" /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I also truly appreciate all the positive thoughts and prayers I've received over the past few days. I am such a lucky girl to have so many people who care about me. A sincere THANK YOU... each and every one of you!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-85809707048733838712009-11-23T16:22:00.006-05:002009-11-23T17:02:15.820-05:00Giving Thanks...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This year has been a tough one for so many people. That's why this year especially, I am trying to count my blessings. I have a wonderful family, great friends, a warm place to call home, and good food to put on my table. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">For me... especially over the last couple of months... it's been really easy to get wrapped up in the negative. Things at work are tough right now, I haven't been feeling the greatest (although, I must say that today my head has not bothered me AT ALL!!), and money.... well.... let's face it. Who couldn't use a little more of that?! I've tried to stay positive, but I have to admit that my attitude hasn't exactly been improving. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Then... with one simple e-mail... I am quickly reminded of just how lucky I am, and just how thankful I should be. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I received the following letter in my e-mail just a few days ago:</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:medium;"><p><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Dearest Friends & Loved Ones: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><wbr> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><wbr> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a name="0.1_graphic06"></a></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?name=d33be9805ff33117.jpg&attid=0.1&disp=vahi&view=att&th=125130c89c155acb" height="1" width="1" alt="Your browser may not support display of this image." /> </span></b></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ou</span></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">r triplet daughter, Tonya, had no choice but to undergo another total jaw replacement surgery on March 2, 2009. This was Tonya’s 7</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">th</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> jaw surgery. Dr. Day, a Maxial Facial Surgeon, one of five surgeons who performs this type of surgery in the world, attempted to pin and put a plate in her left jaw to hold it in place in June of 2008. That surgery failed. The only option was to replace her left jaw with the same titanium parts that he earlier surgically placed in her right jaw in 2006.<br /><br />Tonya does have health insurance, but no pre-existing condition is covered. The costs have been astronomical and we are still paying for previous surgeries. I am going to do one more raffle. Our friend, Betty Lester, gave me a beautiful “Irish Chain” quilt top to do for the raffle. My little sister, Suzy, put cute borders on it and I quilted it. My friend, Charlene McCutcheon donated a framed quote surrounded by flowers she got in my garden to match the quilt. Also, I have an awesome piece of art done by our friend, Kim Trickey and a hand quilted baby quilt I made for the raffle. So there will be a 1</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">st</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, 2</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">nd</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, and 3</span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">rd</span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> place winner! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">A brief history of Tonya's jaw:</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Tonya wrecked on her bike and cut her chin open when she was 10 years old. The doctor stitched her chin up, but there was extensive damage done to the growth plates in her jaws - not detected at the time.<br /><br />Eleven years later, she underwent her first jaw surgery on January 11, 2001, while she was serving a mission in Salt Lake City. The surgeon cut the condyle - the head of the jaw needed for the movement of the jaw – off her right jaw and that just made matters worse. At this time he went in on the left side also. August 16, 2001, while still on her mission, this same surgeon went in again on the right side.<br /><br />In 2006, Dr. Day analyzed the surgeries done in 2001, not understanding what had been done to either jaw. He informed us that at this point, the only solution was total jaw replacement on her right side, which he performed on November 27, 2006. A follow up surgery was necessary on October 15, 2007, to relieve her locked jaw due to the extensive scar tissue.<br /><br />Her 5th surgery was on April 3, 2008, an attempt to repair her degenerating left jaw. The 6th surgery on June 2, 2008, was a second attempt by Dr. Day to secure the condyle and disc in her left jaw with screws. Both these surgeries were unsuccessful because of the earlier extensive damage.<br /><br />Tonya had one option left. She required total replacement of her left jaw in order to be able to talk and eat normally. Tonya is still blending all her food and drinks a lot of protein drinks with her fruits & veggies, but her healing this time around has been astounding. (Thanks to everyone’s fasting and prayers!) </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The drawing will be held on </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">December 21</span></b><sup><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">st</span></b></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. If you are interested in this raffle, the tickets are </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1 for $1.00</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> or </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">6 for $5.00</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. If you are the winner, you will be contacted right away. If I cannot hand deliver your prize, I will mail it to you immediately!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Please continue to keep Tonya in your thoughts and prayers and thanks! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a name="0.1_graphic07"></a></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?name=d33be9805ff33117.jpg&attid=0.1&disp=vahi&view=att&th=125130c89c155acb" height="1" width="1" alt="Your browser may not support display of this image." /> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a name="0.1_graphic08"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?name=d33be9805ff33117.jpg&attid=0.1&disp=vahi&view=att&th=125130c89c155acb" height="1" width="1" alt="Your browser may not support display of this image." /> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a name="0.1_graphic09"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?name=d33be9805ff33117.jpg&attid=0.1&disp=vahi&view=att&th=125130c89c155acb" height="1" width="1" alt="Your browser may not support display of this image." /> </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Love, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Todd & Julie Bosen</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">P. O. Box 1087</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Eagar, Arizona 85925</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></p><p><br /></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">We all know Tonya, and we all know what a kind person she is. However, I don't think very many of us understand the pain Tonya has been in over the past few years. Honestly... I don't think we want to.</span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I wasn't asked to post this here, and I'm not trying to make anyone buy raffle tickets. I'm simply posting this to remind you to look around... And be thankful!</span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">HAVE A HAPPY AND SAFE THANKSGIVING!!</span></span></p><p><br /></p></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-18283738996791789752009-11-02T15:52:00.008-05:002009-11-04T15:28:43.614-05:00Here we go again...<div style="text-align: left;">On Decenber 8th... I'll be going under the knife... Again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Except it's not exactly a knife in the surgical blade sense... and I don't know as though I'll actually be going "under" much of anything.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a little over a month, I'll be spending a long day at the James Cancer Hospital here in Columbus having Gamma Knife Radiosurgery. I'm not responding to my medications anymore, so this procedure is pretty much my last shot at killing whatever it is that's decided to call my brain "home" for the past few years. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 321px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJZEZjZGPhdzOhyZvD-Sv8C1s1AzFFhAhMJ4i_ZcA5wK7LQnoyQJLWLiaxz2PhTZpnd_gYx8p7aP8EVVgzREP_CtBYDWHl3LouQIRLyBVFTuDGqPN3TIF9OGEofXwXqqkhM75D85xG3s/s400/gamma.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399622503995972242" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Gamma Knife is basically a precise, high dose of radiation, delivered to abnormal brain tissue... With the hope of killing it. It's also a one shot deal, so I only have to go that one day... and there's not hospital stay... WOO HOO!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm a little nervous because as with most medical procedures, there are some risks. This procedure could possibly damage my pituitary gland, resulting in the need for lifelong hormone replacement therapy (not too huge a deal... I could deal with that). However, because of where my tumor is located, it could also damage my optic nerve which could result in visual impairment (not too thrilled about that). My neurosurgeon says that Gamma Knife has about a 2 millimeter "safe zone". Meaning that only the tissue within 2mm of the radiation beam should receive the radiation. My tumor right now is about 4mm away from my optic nerve. It's a small window... but it's a window.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the other hand, I am hopeful that this procedure will eliminate the need for me to depend on medication, as well as do away with the horrible headaches I have been living with, day in and day out, for the past few weeks. I consider myself a pretty tough broad... but I just can't handle this pain anymore. I'm just about at the end of my rope. I feel badly for Steve because I can't be a very fun person to live with right now. I'm always tired... I don't feel like doing anything... and lately I've become pretty damn grouchy. He and the girls continue to put up with me and for that I am extremely thankful. He truly is an amazing guy.</div><div><br /></div><div>My neurosurgeon and radiation oncologist are very optimistic that this will do the trick, and say I have about a 70% chance of a "home run". That is... everything coming out the way we want it to. I'm putting my trust in them and taking the chance.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm praying for a home run.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-76361562886498100512009-10-23T14:37:00.003-04:002009-10-23T14:48:24.056-04:00The Bald and The Beautiful...<div style="text-align: center;">They just don't get much prettier than this, folks!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 396px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwTgUAP16-qFOLei4ra7YKlQQjeS4a4wLlVsJOk4SfCYDb_cRsNxY8CxbwtbsuPttFjjN-B0g8EuyAwzSNDQFzNuCQiKu3ZtvuUDrQ-aI_Ya4fcvxCoznN9rvpetmZYQ00_y4QU3cSGWY/s400/IMG_1417.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395868349907601010" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQRlQ0YyyLGlKyncwt8FaPh5E1y94B6_nXjRWjSplImZlQHNK3zlXltwH1sibIzwtQl5JsovZMSka_jg68XiEbaPP7XRQ6HLiTk21pX2f6SOwhp-W59odgKc09-q_yjUHQc_nYJk6ojc/s1600-h/IMG_1422.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQRlQ0YyyLGlKyncwt8FaPh5E1y94B6_nXjRWjSplImZlQHNK3zlXltwH1sibIzwtQl5JsovZMSka_jg68XiEbaPP7XRQ6HLiTk21pX2f6SOwhp-W59odgKc09-q_yjUHQc_nYJk6ojc/s400/IMG_1422.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395868352888592162" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Saturday is game day at our house. We all dress up to cheer on the home team! </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-91121866528226361682009-09-14T13:02:00.004-04:002009-09-16T14:17:10.841-04:00Black Friday<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Friday, September 11, 2009, is a day I will never ever forget. Not just because it was the anniversary of one of the darkest days in our nation's history, but also because of what happened at my place of employment.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As I walked into the Flight Center at 6:15am on Friday morning, I crossed paths with two of my co-workers. One was walking towards me... on his cell phone. I figured he was on a personal call and looking for a quiet place to sit and talk. The other one was walking not too far behind me on her way in to start her shift. I said a quick "Good morning!" and continued on my way. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Neither one of these people ever made it in to work their shifts that day. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Instead, they were stopped at the door by one of our managers, told they were no longer employed, and sent back out of the building.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As I sat through my 10 hour shift, doing my best to stay focused on getting my planes from point A to point B safely, I watched as co-worker after co-worker, friend after friend, were tapped on the shoulder, told to gather their purses, back-packs, coats, etc., and escorted out of the building. One by one... they were picked off. I'll never forget the looks on some of their faces... some were angry, some were scared, and some were in tears. Most were just in total shock... Completely blindsided. I'll also never forget the way I felt knowing that each and every one of their lives were being turned upside-down.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">One of the people let go from my department was a single mother, about my age. I wondered how she was going to take care of herself and a young son with no job. Another co-worker was a proud new father whose wife was a stay-at-home mother to their daughter. I wondered how on earth he was going to break the news to his wife when he got home.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I also sat there wondering if Steve and/or I would be the next to be tapped. We both work for the same company and therefore both of our jobs were on the line. Every time a manager walked by, I sat there hoping that they weren't going to stop at my desk. As they continued past, I hoped that they wouldn't stop at the desk of one of my friends. Some did, some didn't.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">At about 5:30 that evening, I received a call from Steve, letting me know that although his entire department had been eliminated, he had been offered a position in a different department... which he of course took. I was also informed that my job was safe and that I no longer had to worry.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I cried. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It was an awful, horrible day. One that is going to be very difficult for us to overcome as a company... if we ever do.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It's three days later now, and I've gone from being really sad about the whole thing to being really angry. I am very thankful to still be employed... especially considering we just bought our home, and put down a deposit on a wedding venue. However, I am experiencing a sort of "survivor's guilt", knowing that there are well over 200 people here in Columbus who were not so lucky.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In the span of a few days, the company I work for has gone from feeling like a family based institution to a battle ground. It used to be a very easy-going place, and now it's like you constantly have to watch your back. I walk down the hallway, happy to see familiar faces... And sad that there are so many I will no longer see.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I simply cannot believe the number of amazingly intelligent and dedicated people who were terminated on Friday. My heart goes out to them all.</span></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-6637109813218316702009-09-03T19:52:00.005-04:002009-09-04T05:45:06.557-04:00So Proud!<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:11px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I posted a couple of months ago about Steve's decision to participate in a local charity bike ride benefitting the James Cancer Research Hospital here in Columbus. Well... The ride was this past weekend, and my sweetie rode his 50 mile ride in 4 hours and 12 minutes (that includes a bathroom break, and a 20 minute rest stop). I am SO proud of him!!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">His buns were pretty sore for a couple of days, but he said time and time again that it was totally worth it!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:11px;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=42262142&id=12304117" id="myphotolink" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(59, 89, 152); text-decoration: underline; "><img src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs153.snc1/5688_722255422304_12304117_42262141_5257106_n.jpg" id="myphoto" style="border-top-width: 1px; border-right-width: 1px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-width: 1px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-right-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-bottom-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); cursor: pointer; " /></a></span><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:11px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Steve rode with a group of guys from the Schedule Planning department at work. Here are a few of them in their Pelotonia jerseys getting ready for their early morning start (from left: Adam, Steve, and Adam). The entire team raised over $10,000, and the ride itself brought in over $4,000,000! That's great news for the fight against cancer!!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b>GREAT JOB GUYS!!!</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">If I get brave... and invest in a bike... I may attempt to join them next year!</span></span></div><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=42262142&id=12304117" id="myphotolink" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: underline; "></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:11px;"><br /></span></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1112014648702188656.post-41576938839906287552009-08-02T20:42:00.003-04:002009-08-02T20:44:28.575-04:00We're HOME!!<div style="text-align: center;">It's been an insanely busy couple of weeks, but Petunia, Cookie, Steve and I are finally getting settled into our new home! We still have boxes everywhere... and I suspect we probably will for a while... but we are here!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'll post more later... just wanted to let everyone know we survived the move... YAY!!!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1