<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252</id><updated>2012-01-27T07:16:53.561-05:00</updated><category term='ueezed'/><title type='text'>Seriously? Seriously!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>230</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-3008021691346977557</id><published>2011-06-26T11:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T11:21:36.331-04:00</updated><title type='text'>recess is over</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lNT8Ok2LO24/TgdNQJN4qmI/AAAAAAAAApQ/TxmP-SsHbl4/s1600/recess.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 313px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lNT8Ok2LO24/TgdNQJN4qmI/AAAAAAAAApQ/TxmP-SsHbl4/s320/recess.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622547599542757986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next race is August 27th.  That's nine weeks away.  I really don't want to do it.  I am dreading it.  I am also like, what in the world is wrong with me?!  Before The Princess I couldn't wait to get to the gym or the park to run.  I craved it.  Now I can not get myself out of bed in the mornings.  I wake up in time but then I just lie there and I can't make myself get to the closet to get my workout clothes on.  I just lie there.  And there's only 9 weeks to go.  I've thought about bailing on this race but it's in Michigan and I've committed to take my mom up there with us. I also have everyone up there looking forward to seeing me. Ugh.  So I really don't have a choice.  I really have to train. I really have to.  Recess is over, dammit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-3008021691346977557?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/3008021691346977557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=3008021691346977557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3008021691346977557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3008021691346977557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/06/recess-is-over.html' title='recess is over'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lNT8Ok2LO24/TgdNQJN4qmI/AAAAAAAAApQ/TxmP-SsHbl4/s72-c/recess.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-7032965293056105649</id><published>2011-05-25T08:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T08:13:44.014-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Crim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fVkf5-uGY6w/Tdzybd2FRKI/AAAAAAAAApE/IP6enQnsiX4/s1600/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 189px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fVkf5-uGY6w/Tdzybd2FRKI/AAAAAAAAApE/IP6enQnsiX4/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610625789478651042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 weeks til the Crim in Michigan with my cousins and aunts. ACK!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-7032965293056105649?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/7032965293056105649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=7032965293056105649' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7032965293056105649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7032965293056105649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/05/crim.html' title='Crim'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fVkf5-uGY6w/Tdzybd2FRKI/AAAAAAAAApE/IP6enQnsiX4/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5188910218286431800</id><published>2011-05-04T21:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T21:46:44.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>derailed again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b2EodxtGbvA/TcIBfBpOtMI/AAAAAAAAAo8/dgiFl35mykY/s1600/derailed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b2EodxtGbvA/TcIBfBpOtMI/AAAAAAAAAo8/dgiFl35mykY/s320/derailed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603042518931256514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems like every time I swear I am going to get back into running and better nutrition something happens.  Last week it was our cruise.  I gained 5 horrible pounds.  I did walk almost every day but I guess it didn't help much.  This week I have been wanting to go and run in the mornings but I have woken up with sore throats the last two mornings.   Next week we are leaving for another vacation.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really nervous because I have that run with my cousins the end of August and the 1/2 in Nashville in September.  I've got to get myself ready.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did get our bikes and Rick and I went for a bike ride on Monday and I cannot tell you how proud I was that he was out there riding with me.  He was exhausted but it was good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's time to get that train back on the tracks. Starting tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5188910218286431800?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5188910218286431800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5188910218286431800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5188910218286431800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5188910218286431800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/05/derailed-again.html' title='derailed again'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b2EodxtGbvA/TcIBfBpOtMI/AAAAAAAAAo8/dgiFl35mykY/s72-c/derailed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-3204730039448082528</id><published>2011-04-08T08:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T08:53:00.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'>losing and gaining mojos such as they are</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jWuVmEGzwjk/TZ8EgwgsLXI/AAAAAAAAAos/CQMCkoFecTI/s1600/run%2Blike%2Ba%2Bgirl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jWuVmEGzwjk/TZ8EgwgsLXI/AAAAAAAAAos/CQMCkoFecTI/s320/run%2Blike%2Ba%2Bgirl.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593194223041785202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my fitness mojo is still gone. Or I should say, my running mojo is gone.  I am very motivated for fitness or at least more activity.  I've gone rock climbing, bike riding, some walking. Going horseback riding and maybe kayaking this weekend. So, I think it's just the running which has left me.  BUT...I have registered for another half marathon in Nashville on September 24.  And I have the Crim in Michigan the end of August, which is a 10 mile run, so I need to get with it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a week since I quit Weight Watchers and i have been eating like a starving pig but I got on the scale this morning and I have actually lost 2 pounds. LOL  I have no idea how that happened but I'll take it.&lt;br /&gt;So, my goals for next week are to get to the park at least 3 mornings and run.  I would really like to swim some but running is my top priority. I read an article yesterday about how to get out of a running funk after a big race.  It seems it is not at all uncommon for people to have difficulty getting back into it.  and if I can figure out how to post it I will post the article here.  &lt;a href="http://running.about.com/b/2011/04/01/how-to-re-start-your-running.htm?nl=1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-3204730039448082528?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/3204730039448082528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=3204730039448082528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3204730039448082528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3204730039448082528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/04/losing-and-gaining-mojos-such-as-they.html' title='losing and gaining mojos such as they are'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jWuVmEGzwjk/TZ8EgwgsLXI/AAAAAAAAAos/CQMCkoFecTI/s72-c/run%2Blike%2Ba%2Bgirl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1849735086543633904</id><published>2011-03-29T21:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T21:30:10.739-04:00</updated><title type='text'>weight watchers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-asUXQLiK4BA/TZKHmWLi1zI/AAAAAAAAAok/C5g7bRdbwS4/s1600/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-asUXQLiK4BA/TZKHmWLi1zI/AAAAAAAAAok/C5g7bRdbwS4/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589679180378986290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm quitting Weight Watchers for about the fifteenth time tomorrow.  It's a waste of money since I don't really follow the plan.  I know what to do. Why I don't just do it I have no idea.  I have lost 18# since October which is nothing to sniff at but I went to the gyn last week and I am only 5 pounds less than I was exactly 1 year ago.  Go figure. Hundreds of dollars later, constant dieting and only a net loss of 5 pounds.  I should have listened to Leeann.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1849735086543633904?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1849735086543633904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1849735086543633904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1849735086543633904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1849735086543633904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/03/weight-watchers.html' title='weight watchers'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-asUXQLiK4BA/TZKHmWLi1zI/AAAAAAAAAok/C5g7bRdbwS4/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-8223864234524974276</id><published>2011-03-21T21:49:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T21:57:05.258-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rUl1Pd0Zhtw/TYgAqKA8m9I/AAAAAAAAAoc/cL0AE4yGKPQ/s1600/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 183px; height: 275px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rUl1Pd0Zhtw/TYgAqKA8m9I/AAAAAAAAAoc/cL0AE4yGKPQ/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586716061995932626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Few things in the world are more powerful than a positive push. A smile. A word of optimism and hope. And you can do it when things are tough.”--Richard M Devos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing what 60 extra milligrams of Geodon can do for a person in just a matter of days.  I have been thinking a lot about my blessed life today.  I am more blessed than I deserve to be and happier ( except for brief episodes of craziness) than I have ever been. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;total awesomeness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-8223864234524974276?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/8223864234524974276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=8223864234524974276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8223864234524974276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8223864234524974276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/03/few-things-in-world-are-more-powerful.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rUl1Pd0Zhtw/TYgAqKA8m9I/AAAAAAAAAoc/cL0AE4yGKPQ/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1280469521978239236</id><published>2011-03-16T21:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T21:22:18.493-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Retirement...or not</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kUZ3AA6c6yg/TYFgWE6jNzI/AAAAAAAAAoM/mfP5vDddnws/s1600/scream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kUZ3AA6c6yg/TYFgWE6jNzI/AAAAAAAAAoM/mfP5vDddnws/s320/scream.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584850945308833586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rick and I had been planning for years that we would retire in 2015.   Then a few years ago, he said that he would retire in 2015 but that he still wanted me to work 1-2 days per week.  Ok...  Then a couple of years ago, he said he would retire in 2015 and I still had to work 2-3 days a week for 5 years. Ok...Then yesterday, he told me that no, he wasn't going to retire in 2015.  He was going to wait to retire for another 10 years. Which means I will have to continue to work, doing what I am doing, for another 10 years.  The thought of this makes me very sad.   I don't think I can do what I am doing for 10 more years.  I just can't.  So now I am busy thinking about other plans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand where Rick is coming from, I do. And I will be supportive of whatever he thinks we should do.  I don't have to like it though.  I need to figure something else out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1280469521978239236?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1280469521978239236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1280469521978239236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1280469521978239236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1280469521978239236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/03/retirementor-not.html' title='Retirement...or not'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kUZ3AA6c6yg/TYFgWE6jNzI/AAAAAAAAAoM/mfP5vDddnws/s72-c/scream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4498851719103678483</id><published>2011-03-08T21:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T21:35:46.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Now what?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4eDuHdRGYAM/TXbljWDVBlI/AAAAAAAAAoE/_INay-Kau4Q/s1600/heavy%2Bsigh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4eDuHdRGYAM/TXbljWDVBlI/AAAAAAAAAoE/_INay-Kau4Q/s320/heavy%2Bsigh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581901183550031442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a an exasperated sigh. I'm exasperated with myself.  That's a sigh of relief.  I'm relieved I did so well at Disney.  That's an 'I'm tired' sigh.  That's an 'I don't want to do anything' sigh. That's an 'oh my gosh' sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have been home from Disney one week today.  I have only worked out one day since then.  I just can't seem to get myself to the gym.  I feel like I have lost my fitness mojo.  I don't get it.  I was so gung-ho before and now I can't even get out of bed in the morning.  It's a bad cycle I've gotten into.  I don't feel like getting out of bed to go to the gym because I am too tired.  But I am too tired because I'm not getting any exercise.  And round and round it goes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must make a new goal.  I. Must. Get. Out. of. Bed. in the mornings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4498851719103678483?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4498851719103678483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4498851719103678483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4498851719103678483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4498851719103678483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/03/now-what.html' title='Now what?'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4eDuHdRGYAM/TXbljWDVBlI/AAAAAAAAAoE/_INay-Kau4Q/s72-c/heavy%2Bsigh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-8408864144844971735</id><published>2011-03-05T09:42:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T10:24:22.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>3:21...Disney Princess Half Marathon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7aQtucPAfp0/TXJVD2IfGVI/AAAAAAAAAn0/5ntcys4VbNU/s1600/IMG_0392.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7aQtucPAfp0/TXJVD2IfGVI/AAAAAAAAAn0/5ntcys4VbNU/s320/IMG_0392.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580616412824541522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think 3:21 is awesome. I was so afraid we wouldn't make the 3:30 requirements.  But we did and there were no sweepers in sight! We could have done better but about mile 8 my aunt Pam started complaining that her foot was hurting.  She said she felt like she was running on a nut.  It didn't get better so about mile 9 we decided to just walk.  It seemed okay though because at that point most everybody was walking.  It was actually so crowded that it was hard to run at that point with everyone walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have to say that this was one of the most incredible experiences I have ever had.  The whole weekend we were surrounded by happy, positive women.  It was totally uplifting.  Most women were dressed up in tutus or costumes.  Disney just knows how to do it right.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were in the last corral.  Corral F.  I was so worried we were going to get swept that I made sure we were right at the front of the corral.  We had to be at Epcot by 4 and in our corrals by 5 so I was very sleepy.  While we were waiting in our corrals, I sat down to wait because I was so sleepy and the next thing I know they are playing the national anthem.  I woke up and looked up and everyone but me was standing.  How embarrassing.  Then the corrals were released in waves.  The fairy godmother would say a few words then she would wave her wand and sprinkle fairy dust and the fireworks would go off and everyone in that corral would start.  We saw that 6 times and I was just crying because it was so magical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was our turn, Aunt Pam shot out of the corral like a greyhound.  I kept up with her for about 10 minutes and then I was like, wait a minute, this isn't how i trained.  So I slowed down and started doing my intervals.  She slowed down with me and we got into a good pace.  It was so awesome.  There were characters all along the way and musicians too.   Pam was so anxious about making good time that she didn't want to stop and take pictures.  That is one thing I regret.  Next time I am definitely stopping at least to see Cinderella and Mickey and Minnie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did stop in the Magic Kingdom to snap a photo.  Everyone knows how I feel about Disney.  It's my most favorite place on earth.  When we ran down Main Street, I had tears coming down my face. The music was playing, the crowds were cheering, Minnie and Mickey were there.  We ran through Tomorrowland and back behind and through the castle and then out through Liberty Square and Frontierland and out of the park.  I cried the whole way except that I was sure to smile for the cameras. :)  Aunt Pam doesn't really get my proclivity for Disney so she was like ummmm.  I think she was having quite a bit of pain even then and wasn't really enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we kept running.  We got to this onramp in which we had to go up a big hill and it sort of curved around to become a bridge over the road we had just been on. This was at about mile 9.  This is when I really began to feel good about where we stood in the race.  We could look down on the road below us and there were still thousands of people below us.  And we were still in a crowd.  So, I knew we would be fine.  We just took it easy from there.   I was feeling pretty good at this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we made it to Epcot again, my feet and legs were really hurting and everyone kept saying, you're almost there, just a little ways further.  And it just seemed that it took forever.  But then we saw the finish line and I cried like a baby again.  Wow, we had done it.  We could barely run across it but we did, We had done it.  Then I got on the phone and texted everybody I know.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must give a shout out to my good friends who were texting me all along the way giving me encouragement. That was a big help and kept me motivated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we finished.  Then we crammed all the food and sports drinks down out throats that we could.  I was absolutely starving.  We went back to the room and showered and napped, I didn't really want to nap.  I wanted to go to the parks but we had been up since 2:30 and we were in a lot of pain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then next day we spent at Magic Kingdom and had such a good time.  We saw all the princesses walking around with their medals.  Everyone was congratulating us and giving us pats on the backs.  Totally awesome.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved loved loved this experience.  I hope to be able to do it again and again and again.  I so admire my Aunt Pam for doing this with me.  That woman is 55 years old and just ran her first half marathon.  That is really impressive and inspiring.  And she is going to do another one in Hawaii in April!   Very cool.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1h9pzf2TpaI/TXJVSebzhZI/AAAAAAAAAn8/dRsB0Hm1iM8/s1600/IMG_0398.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1h9pzf2TpaI/TXJVSebzhZI/AAAAAAAAAn8/dRsB0Hm1iM8/s320/IMG_0398.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580616664161158546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-8408864144844971735?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/8408864144844971735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=8408864144844971735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8408864144844971735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8408864144844971735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/03/321disney-princess-half-marathon.html' title='3:21...Disney Princess Half Marathon'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7aQtucPAfp0/TXJVD2IfGVI/AAAAAAAAAn0/5ntcys4VbNU/s72-c/IMG_0392.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2013810658241480713</id><published>2011-03-04T17:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T17:34:26.251-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://disneyparks.disney.go.com/blog/2011/03/looking-and-running-like-a-real-life-disney-princess/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2013810658241480713?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2013810658241480713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2013810658241480713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2013810658241480713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2013810658241480713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6441355954444807228</id><published>2011-02-24T11:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T11:12:47.594-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sbWotZDvb2Y/TWaCsdz2CBI/AAAAAAAAAns/h2QJZ4QOg10/s1600/slipper2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 313px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sbWotZDvb2Y/TWaCsdz2CBI/AAAAAAAAAns/h2QJZ4QOg10/s320/slipper2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577288888972871698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be like a fairytale to me.  Chanel left a sweet card for me today and she gave me a sort of pep talk and was thanking me for being an inspiration to her.  It made me smile.  I want to be that mom.  I want the girls to look up to me and strive to be like me.  Nothing could make me happier.  I want them to want to be Princesses right beside me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving tomorrow morning at 5:30!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6441355954444807228?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6441355954444807228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6441355954444807228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6441355954444807228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6441355954444807228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/02/this-is-going-to-be-like-fairytale-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sbWotZDvb2Y/TWaCsdz2CBI/AAAAAAAAAns/h2QJZ4QOg10/s72-c/slipper2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-620451246705351953</id><published>2011-02-23T21:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T21:58:07.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-45mkENvUXY4/TWXI3Ehp3aI/AAAAAAAAAnk/hESZOqXSBOs/s1600/disney.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 270px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-45mkENvUXY4/TWXI3Ehp3aI/AAAAAAAAAnk/hESZOqXSBOs/s320/disney.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577084562001485218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had butterflies in my tummy all day.  I am so excited/nervous, though a little less stressed than yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  My mom won't be coming down for the weekend.   It kind of upsets me but it's just typical of her.  She said she really can't afford it ( I had already told her I would pay her way)... that they wouldn't have any fun just standing around waiting for us to finish. (Heaven forbid she do anything for/with me that isn't any fun).   So, my feelings are a little hurt because it would be nice to have someone there at the finish line for us but at least this way it saves me probably hundreds of dollars and I don't have to stress over whether she's having a good time or not.  I just have to say it. My Aunt Pam never lets me down and she will be right there beside me. Love that woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a good note...One exciting thing I am looking forward to for the next 3 days...carb loading!  have to build up those energy reserves.  Olive Garden, here I come.  Woohoo!   I'm not going to go crazy but I am putting weight watchers on hold for the next 5 days.  how exciting!  To go 5 days without obsessing about what I'm eating is a vacation in itself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-620451246705351953?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/620451246705351953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=620451246705351953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/620451246705351953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/620451246705351953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-have-had-butterflies-in-my-tummy-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-45mkENvUXY4/TWXI3Ehp3aI/AAAAAAAAAnk/hESZOqXSBOs/s72-c/disney.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-838259423346662410</id><published>2011-02-21T20:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T20:14:19.328-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rg9Az8a6s3Y/TWMMjil_6GI/AAAAAAAAAnc/Oq_DWmZM_dE/s1600/CIMG7166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rg9Az8a6s3Y/TWMMjil_6GI/AAAAAAAAAnc/Oq_DWmZM_dE/s320/CIMG7166.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576314568335943778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL this is how I feel some days! It really had been kind of stressing me out.   But at the end of the day, I don't have to be fast. I just have to be less slow than the 16min/mile pace.  I think I can do that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-838259423346662410?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/838259423346662410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=838259423346662410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/838259423346662410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/838259423346662410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/02/lol-this-is-how-i-feel-some-days-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rg9Az8a6s3Y/TWMMjil_6GI/AAAAAAAAAnc/Oq_DWmZM_dE/s72-c/CIMG7166.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4394763487264391201</id><published>2011-02-19T17:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T17:57:32.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One week from today I will be at EPCOT. I'm so excited!  &lt;br /&gt;A few struggles in the last few days though. &lt;br /&gt; Both of my lower legs are hurting.  I have no idea why.  I haven't done anything different.  I took my rest days this week because I didn't want to risk injury.  I don't usually take rest days, except on Mondays after my long run.  So, I'm supposed to do my last long run tomorrow and I don't know if I will be able to or if I should,  My worst fear right now is that I will get injured and not be able to do the race.  (though sometimes I secretly wish I wasn't doing the race) :)  But if I don't do the long run, how will I know if I am ready?  I don't know what to do.  I have asked for advice from experienced runners and am waiting with baited breath to hear what they have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also did a very dumb thing yesterday.  Rick asked me to go walking with him after dinner last night.  I want to encourage him to have activity so I was happy to go.  Only problem was that I was in flip flops and now I have blisters.  Stupid.  So I have to hope they will heal up in the next week.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so afraid of something going wrong!  Poor Sienna is sick and needs me to go up there and get her some food but I just can't.  I can't get sick right now. I know, I'm a bad mom.  But I just feel like I have to be selfish now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started getting stuff ready to pack today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4394763487264391201?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4394763487264391201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4394763487264391201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4394763487264391201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4394763487264391201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/02/one-week-from-today-i-will-be-at-epcot.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1773833115092094631</id><published>2011-02-14T21:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T21:58:16.130-05:00</updated><title type='text'>having a little bit of anxiety to say the least</title><content type='html'>So I'm just thinking all day ...but what if I can't?   What if I fail?  What if I get injured?  What if the sweepers get me? What if I oversleep?  What if I can't sleep? What if I forget my ambien? What if my luggage is lost? What if I miss my flight?  What if I am just too out of shape?  What if I can't keep up with Aunt Pam? What if I get diarrhea?  What if I get sick between now and then? What if my iPod doesn't work? What if they run out of water at the water stops?  What if they run out of medals?  What if I don't finish and don't get a medal?  What if I am so sore I can't walk in the parks after the race?  What should I eat? What should I not eat?  What if the kids come?  What if the kids don't come?  How am I going to text to everyone if my phone doesn't work?  Should I carry my phone and my camera or just my phone?  What if the phone or the camera doesn't work and I don't have the other one? What if I forget to pack the right socks?  What if I leave my waiver at home? Should I take advil before the race or during or after?  How will we get to the Expo?  Will we catch the bus on time?  Will it be cold?  Will I need a jacket?  should I bring black trash bags to keep warm in or just a jacket?  Should I wear a tiara or should I just wear my Bondi Band with a picture of a tiara? What if my shoelace breaks? What if my nose keeps running and I forget my tissue?  Am I going to wear the tutu or not? What if the tutu chafes my arms?  What if people are mean to me because I am so slow?  What if Pam is impatient with me? How am I going to deal with my mother when she is there? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I can't do it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1773833115092094631?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1773833115092094631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1773833115092094631' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1773833115092094631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1773833115092094631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/02/having-little-bit-of-anxiety-to-say.html' title='having a little bit of anxiety to say the least'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6938761867478198735</id><published>2011-02-06T17:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T18:24:53.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TU8tvB23QzI/AAAAAAAAAnU/6tgAA2lumKU/s1600/images-1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 198px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TU8tvB23QzI/AAAAAAAAAnU/6tgAA2lumKU/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570721550056244018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to express today how grateful I am that I have a body that I can push to limits I never thought possible and still be okay. Gosh, it's just incredible.   I did 12 miles today.  I could barely walk up the hill to the car.  But I did 12 miles. Wow. Never thought I could ever do it. Never thought I could.  It brings tears to my eyes to think about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6938761867478198735?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6938761867478198735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6938761867478198735' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6938761867478198735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6938761867478198735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-just-want-to-express-today-how.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TU8tvB23QzI/AAAAAAAAAnU/6tgAA2lumKU/s72-c/images-1.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-598376071042850701</id><published>2011-02-05T17:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T17:38:41.344-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't get no satisfaction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TU3RaJk5u8I/AAAAAAAAAnM/HTxmAbw0adE/s1600/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 251px; height: 201px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TU3RaJk5u8I/AAAAAAAAAnM/HTxmAbw0adE/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570338561304673218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't get no satisfaction,&lt;br /&gt;I can't get no satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;cuz I try and I try and I try and I try&lt;br /&gt;I can't get no, I can't get no....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking to Rick today.  I was telling him that when I was 293# I always said if only I could get to 200# I'd be satisfied.  Then when I was 200# I said if only I could get to 180# I'd be satisfied.  I made it to 182. So then I gained  over 20# and I said, if I could only just be fit and healthy I'd be satisfied.  Now I am fit and healthy......not satisfied.  So, I'm going through all this with Rick and he said, sounds to me like you just need to quit worrying about your weight and work on just being satisfied.  As Chanel always says, Rick is a very wise man.  Why am I never satisfied?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-598376071042850701?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/598376071042850701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=598376071042850701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/598376071042850701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/598376071042850701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2011/02/cant-get-no-satisfaction.html' title='Can&apos;t get no satisfaction'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TU3RaJk5u8I/AAAAAAAAAnM/HTxmAbw0adE/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2686205652457689416</id><published>2010-08-25T08:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T08:48:59.002-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One Day at a time</title><content type='html'>Each day gets a little easier.  I still can't hear people talk about dads or see his picture without getting teary eyed but it gets easier.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really just need to focus on my health and fitness right now.  I am reading a wonderful book called FAT TO FIT and oh my gosh, do you know that if you just find the BMR of your goal weight and add 20% and eat that many calories per day and be consistent with it, you will eventually be at that goal weight and then if you keep eating that amount of calories, you will maintain that weight?  It's true. ( you have to work out and burn 300-400 cals/day).  Now you may only lose a pound a week or so, but you will lose. A pound a week I can do!  And you know the greatest thing?  My calorie limit to get to my goal weight is 2000 calories. I think I can handle that.      &lt;a href="http://www.fat2fitradio.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2686205652457689416?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2686205652457689416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2686205652457689416' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2686205652457689416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2686205652457689416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/08/one-day-at-time.html' title='One Day at a time'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4540443974683879217</id><published>2010-08-14T13:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T13:44:55.139-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rest in Peace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TGbVb3-3F2I/AAAAAAAAAm0/Vq1cOQwhDdQ/s1600/IMG_0085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TGbVb3-3F2I/AAAAAAAAAm0/Vq1cOQwhDdQ/s320/IMG_0085.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505322269367801698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad died on August 12th. Two days after my birthday.  I thought I was prepared for this but I wasn't.  This is harder than I ever thought it would be.  I will miss him more than words can say.  He was the one person in my life before I met Rick that I knew I could always count on.  I will miss him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4540443974683879217?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4540443974683879217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4540443974683879217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4540443974683879217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4540443974683879217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/08/rest-in-peace.html' title='Rest in Peace'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TGbVb3-3F2I/AAAAAAAAAm0/Vq1cOQwhDdQ/s72-c/IMG_0085.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-8097032143030751426</id><published>2010-07-25T20:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T21:23:40.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am leaving Florida tomorrow.  I really think that this will be the last time I see my dad alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to church today with my mom.  I hadn't been in a long time but I felt like I needed to go today for her.  It was nice.  I saw many of the women who were friends of my parents while I was growing up.  My parents used to be very social and I have great memories of camp outs, card nights, barbeques, bible schools etc with these women in my life. In seeing these women today, I saw wonderful memories.  Memories of my parents before heart attacks, before COPD, before joint pain and before diabetes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is frail now. And weak. And dying...maybe not right now this week but soon. And I just needed those memories today in church so that I could remember him as the man he once was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents didn't have the best marriage and I know many times they both were wishing for divorce. I don't pretend our life as a family was rosy all the time.  But today I was sitting in the hospital room and my mom was holding my dad's head against her chest and he was just so peaceful there while she stroked his cheek.  It was touching to watch and the love was definitely there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we shall see how things go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-8097032143030751426?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/8097032143030751426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=8097032143030751426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8097032143030751426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8097032143030751426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-am-leaving-florida-tomorrow.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2600678028508613433</id><published>2010-07-06T19:39:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T19:53:04.912-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my gosh. I have gone and done it now!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TDO-ycsr9QI/AAAAAAAAAms/EjbQB-QoneI/s1600/Princessmedal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TDO-ycsr9QI/AAAAAAAAAms/EjbQB-QoneI/s320/Princessmedal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490942144601126146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've learned that finishing a marathon isn't just an athletic achievement, it's a state of mind: a state of mind that says anythiing is possible."-John Hanc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be wearing this medal on February 27, 2011. I signed up for the Disney Princess Half Marathon today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I mean, for real, like I paid $128 and everything!  I am really going to do this. It wasn't really "real" to me until I hit that Submit button today. I am so frickin' excited.  My Aunt Pam is going to run it with me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's time to get serious.  I have to get my weight under control.  I have to focus on getting as healthy as I can and on staying injury free for the next 233 days.   WOOHOO!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2600678028508613433?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2600678028508613433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2600678028508613433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2600678028508613433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2600678028508613433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/07/oh-my-gosh-i-have-gone-and-done-it-now.html' title='Oh my gosh. I have gone and done it now!'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TDO-ycsr9QI/AAAAAAAAAms/EjbQB-QoneI/s72-c/Princessmedal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5777067904352915585</id><published>2010-06-26T13:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T13:43:43.151-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't believe in hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TCY7-EGEcPI/AAAAAAAAAmk/-z0tf_rTHkg/s1600/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 143px; height: 122px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TCY7-EGEcPI/AAAAAAAAAmk/-z0tf_rTHkg/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487139133434654962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an interesting conversation last week with Sienna.  It seems that I, the one who bore her, the one person who would fall on a stake for her, the one who says a little prayer for her every night, am going to hell.  Huh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I don't believe I am going to hell.  I don't even believe that there is a hell, for that matter.  But apparently, my little christian Sienna struggles everyday because she believes I will spend eternity there.  It makes me sad that she has been taught somewhere along the way that #1 there is a heaven and a hell and #2 it doesn't matter how good of a person you are, if you don't believe Jesus Christ is your savior, you are going to spend eternity in damnation.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe in hell. I don't believe that Jesus Christ is the only savior and I don't believe that Christianity is the only true religion. What I do believe is that there is a supreme being who has somehow created me and who has molded me into this person I have become.  I believe that this God is all-knowing, that he or she is kind and loving and gracious.  I do not believe that the God I believe in would create a hell where his or her own creation would burn for eternity. I mean, seriously?  I just can't wrap my head around a God who would do that.  I mean, I am good. I am kind.  I am caring.  I am honest. I am loving.  I do not believe that good people burn in hell.  I'm sorry, I just don't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope that one day, Sienna will come to an understanding that yes, there are many religions and belief systems in the world, and that is really ok.  I hope that when I die, she is able to come to terms with the idea.  I wish for her to have peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5777067904352915585?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5777067904352915585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5777067904352915585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5777067904352915585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5777067904352915585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-dont-believe-in-hell.html' title='I don&apos;t believe in hell'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TCY7-EGEcPI/AAAAAAAAAmk/-z0tf_rTHkg/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1945328852840454912</id><published>2010-06-20T21:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T21:25:37.885-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn."  Harriet Beecher Stowe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw this today on one of the running blogs that I read.  I'm not really in this place right now but I have been in the recent past.  I try to look forward and ask myself, How's it gonna look in a year?  I'm happy to say that in my mind, things look good in the future.   I am hopeful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1945328852840454912?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1945328852840454912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1945328852840454912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1945328852840454912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1945328852840454912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/06/when-you-get-into-tight-place-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4325694426703898403</id><published>2010-06-13T19:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T19:32:40.679-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TBVqg-GSxAI/AAAAAAAAAmc/eldVYbY_iag/s1600/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 123px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TBVqg-GSxAI/AAAAAAAAAmc/eldVYbY_iag/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482405236051198978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now if you are going to win any battle you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do. The body will always give up. It is always tired in the morning, noon, and night. But the body is never tired if the mind is not tired."&lt;br /&gt;- George S. Patton, U.S. Army General, 1912 Olympian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to have this playing over and over on my iPod in the morning.  I can't seem to break that 4 mile mark.  so close. What happens is my mind plays tricks on me.  My body really does seem fine except that I can't get my breathing to slow down. My one foot goes a little numb.  Then my brain starts worrying that I'm going to fall because my foot is numb.  Then I think I can't go any farther because I'm too bored.  So I walk for awhile. What I want is to be able to run for 4 miles without walking. Of course, my ultimate goal by February is to run 13.1 miles.  I just need to get my brain to cooperate.  The body is never tired if the mind is not tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4325694426703898403?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4325694426703898403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4325694426703898403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4325694426703898403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4325694426703898403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/06/now-if-you-are-going-to-win-any-battle.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TBVqg-GSxAI/AAAAAAAAAmc/eldVYbY_iag/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4740996804735428198</id><published>2010-06-12T16:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T16:24:39.701-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't feel much like smiling today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TBPr4OMRqyI/AAAAAAAAAmU/qfj-gnQm-2Y/s1600/IMG_4270.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TBPr4OMRqyI/AAAAAAAAAmU/qfj-gnQm-2Y/s320/IMG_4270.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481984522554813218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I searched and searched my iPhoto trying to find a photo of myself not smiling.  Weird, I know.  But it was very hard to find one.  I'm just feeling sad and grumpy today which is so unlike me.  I'm usually always smiling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are just some things I can't write about in a blog. Life is stressful right now and my emotional bank account has had too many withdrawals by other people lately.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disney World, I miss you. I would really love to be in the Happiest Place on Earth right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4740996804735428198?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4740996804735428198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4740996804735428198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4740996804735428198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4740996804735428198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/06/dont-feel-much-like-smiling-today.html' title='Don&apos;t feel much like smiling today'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TBPr4OMRqyI/AAAAAAAAAmU/qfj-gnQm-2Y/s72-c/IMG_4270.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-7983402607672967910</id><published>2010-06-07T17:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T18:05:45.088-04:00</updated><title type='text'>mixed blessings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TA1lOa3fclI/AAAAAAAAAmM/MY24l-0OZbk/s1600/IMG_1347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TA1lOa3fclI/AAAAAAAAAmM/MY24l-0OZbk/s320/IMG_1347.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480147619984405074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Aunt Pam was at a conference in Atlanta last week so we decided to go visit Mom and Dad in Florida over the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;The weekend really turned out much better than expected.  I LOVE spending time with Pam.  She has always been my favorite aunt and like a second mom to me.  She is so generous and kind and I want to be just like her when I grow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say that before we got there to see my Dad at the nursing home on Thursday I was hopeful.  Mom had painted a pretty rosy picture of how things were going.  I felt like crying when I left there that evening. He was not doing well.  I don't think he knew who we were.  I couldn't understand a single word he was saying.  He kept fidgeting and picking at his blankets.  He kept trying to crawl out of bed.  It was very discouraging. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday morning was not a lot better.  It's hard to know if he is really there or not cognitively.  He just has a continuous ramble.  He gets agitated when we can't understand him. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My mom was not there until late Friday afternoon because she went to west Florida to pick up my second nephew who had been in juvenile detention for the last 9 months.  So I had to tell my dad over and over where they were because he forgets things easily.  We were in occupational therapy with my dad that afternoon and in walks my nephew.  My dad looked up at him and it seemed like it registered who Brandon was immediately and he raised his good arm for a hug.  He had tears in his eyes, It was then that I knew that my dad was in there and he was slowly coming out.  We all cried. He hadn't been showing affection so it was extra special to watch that interaction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, Mom decided to have a BBQ at their home.  I couldn't believe how much my dad seemed right at home there.  He had his bluegrass music playing.  He just kept looking around at everything like he was inspecting.  He recognized his cats.  When he first got sick he would always ask about his cats.  He just smiled his crooked smile and held each of them.  He even remembered two of their names.   It was a great day.  He only got agitated a couple of times.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we took him back to the nursing home Saturday night and got him all tucked into bed.  He just kept jabbering on about who knows what.  We can't understand what he's saying unless he gets angry.  If that's the case , we can understand every single curse word that comes out of his mouth.  :) I was trying to talk to him about the fact that I was leaving on Sunday to go home.  And then all of the sudden, he grabs my hand and kisses it and says, "Red,(that's his nickname for me). I love you, I love you, I love you."  Clear as day. Like he really knew what he was saying and really meant it. Oh my gosh, that just meant so much to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I cried like a baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am amazed by how well my mom is doing.  This woman who I always perceived as weaker has really turned out to be very strong.  She is in the process of buying them a Doublewide to live in.  She has done all of the business-y stuff on her own.  She just finds out what needs to be done and she does it.  She is not discouraged at all by my dad's progress.  She is preparing to care for him when he gets out of the rehab center, and she doesn't seem afraid of the future at all.  I don't know where this woman has come from but I am so glad she is here now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it was a good weekend and I am encouraged and hopeful now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-7983402607672967910?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/7983402607672967910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=7983402607672967910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7983402607672967910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7983402607672967910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/06/mixed-blessings.html' title='mixed blessings'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TA1lOa3fclI/AAAAAAAAAmM/MY24l-0OZbk/s72-c/IMG_1347.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-7384424756859685198</id><published>2010-05-28T16:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T16:54:12.759-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I just need you to take me seriously</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TAAtab31gWI/AAAAAAAAAmE/Zzqr0Nlj3Ns/s1600/2008DLHMstart_low.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TAAtab31gWI/AAAAAAAAAmE/Zzqr0Nlj3Ns/s320/2008DLHMstart_low.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476427079064322402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM going to run the Disney Princess 1/2 Marathon in February.  For some reason, Rick is not taking me seriously about it. I think that he thinks I won't follow through, that I will lose interest.  But I won't.  Whenever I start talking about it, I hear about oh you don't want to do that.  Oh, no marathons.  Oh, it's too pricey. blah blah blah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact of the matter is, I am getting older.  I will be 44 yrs old this year.  Most runners reach their peak at 34.  So, if I wait any longer, the odds are really stacked against me. My knees will start going bad.  My hips will hurt.  I'll start getting corns on my toes. lol. I need to do this now.  I want to be a Disney Princess when I cross the finish line, not an old hag.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, be aware people, I am going to do this.  I would appreciate a few cheerleaders along the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do."--Walter Bagehot&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-7384424756859685198?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/7384424756859685198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=7384424756859685198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7384424756859685198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7384424756859685198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-just-need-you-to-take-me-seriously.html' title='I just need you to take me seriously'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/TAAtab31gWI/AAAAAAAAAmE/Zzqr0Nlj3Ns/s72-c/2008DLHMstart_low.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5365093767109320188</id><published>2010-05-23T13:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T13:34:59.515-04:00</updated><title type='text'>wishing my dad was better</title><content type='html'>Today is my Mom's birthday.  My dad used to always make a really big deal of our birthdays.  He would wake us up real early in the morning to sing Happy Birthday to us.  He would make us a cake and then when Publix cakes got so good, he would go get us one of those.  We would usually cook out and he would burn the hot dogs and hamburgers just how we liked them.  One year, knowing how much I love breakfast food, he made me french toast and grilled hot dogs(another favorite) for dinner.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today is my Mom's birthday and I cried when she told me she tried to get him to sing Happy Birthday to her. And of course, he can't.  If I could have been there, I would have sung it.  I just wish I was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were in Lowe's today getting some things for around the house.  We always got my dad Lowe's gift cards for his birthday.  He LOVED them. He loves to build things. Now, it's sad to think that he may never be able to use a Lowe's gift card again.  So many things that he may never be able to do again.  It's kind of depressing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5365093767109320188?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5365093767109320188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5365093767109320188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5365093767109320188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5365093767109320188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/05/wishing-my-dad-was-better.html' title='wishing my dad was better'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1745663520081328156</id><published>2010-04-13T21:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T09:19:05.615-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I wanna be that girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S8Uer0gUiBI/AAAAAAAAAl8/OGKRSG9mnCE/s1600/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px; height: 80px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S8Uer0gUiBI/AAAAAAAAAl8/OGKRSG9mnCE/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459803861434009618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last several months have been horrible for my weight loss.  I broke my arm in September after a car accident.  It was a long recovery and I wasn't able to work out until November.  We had vacation in October.  We had Thanksgiving in November.  We had vacation in December and also Christmas holidays.  I really only worked out maybe 15 days from the end of September until mid-January.  Then my dad had his heart attacks, surgeries, strokes and I spent so much time off my regular schedule, stressing. So from September 22 until now I have gained 15 pounds.  None of my summer clothes fit.  I had to go shopping to buy bigger clothes!  I swore I would never do that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, once again, I am saying Enough is Enough!  I have worked out almost everyday in the last 3 weeks but I am also not focusing on my eating like I should. So, the weight isn't coming off.  So, enough is enough.  Time to get it together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be that girl I see running down the street.  I want to just go out for a jog whenever I feel like it.  I want to be that girl who hikes up to Mt. LeConte just for something to do on a Saturday.  I want to be that girl who runs down Main Street at the Magic Kingdom after just completing the half marathon. I want to be that girl.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1745663520081328156?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1745663520081328156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1745663520081328156' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1745663520081328156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1745663520081328156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-wanna-be-that-girl.html' title='I wanna be that girl'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S8Uer0gUiBI/AAAAAAAAAl8/OGKRSG9mnCE/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2238850899794981363</id><published>2010-04-05T09:49:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T10:00:38.730-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am encouraged</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S7nqv7gvDjI/AAAAAAAAAl0/HJZXsN_LwdU/s1600/IMG_1277.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S7nqv7gvDjI/AAAAAAAAAl0/HJZXsN_LwdU/s320/IMG_1277.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456650532685811250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just spent a few days with my Dad and Mom.  I am encouraged after our visit.  My dad seems much more alert and he sometimes makes eye contact.  His neurologist is saying that he's doing well.  He is still in ICU but it's mostly because his rt lung keeps collapsing.  We were able to take him outside on two days.  He really seemed to enjoy that.  He was just looking around, watching the cars go by and the people who were standing around.  At one point there was a soft breeze and my dad just laid his head back and enjoyed the feel of it on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I am always waiting for the next shoe to drop, right now he is doing well.  I am constantly amazed at how strong my father is.  He is definitely a fighter.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom is doing better as well.  I worry about her spending all of her days at the hospital but she seems to do okay.  We have started looking for alternative housing for them for if and when my dad gets out of rehab.  She is being a little resistive.  I know that change is hard but sometimes necessary.  One thing is for sure, they can not stay where they are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2238850899794981363?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2238850899794981363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2238850899794981363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2238850899794981363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2238850899794981363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-am-encouraged.html' title='I am encouraged'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S7nqv7gvDjI/AAAAAAAAAl0/HJZXsN_LwdU/s72-c/IMG_1277.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1762223413197596217</id><published>2010-03-31T08:52:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T08:58:41.683-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On our way back to Florida</title><content type='html'>We are headed back to Florida to be with my family today.  My dad is still in the hospital in ICU.  They have been getting him up in the chair for a couple hours each day.  He still has no response on his right side and doesn't follow commands.  But Mom said he reached over and grabbed his right arm the other day.  I'm kind of anxious about going.  It seems the stories and prognosis from the Dr vary from day to day.  Here is a pic of Dad up in the chair.  It makes me kind of sad to look at it because it doesn't even look like him.  He looks sad and worn out.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S7NGSIKhUBI/AAAAAAAAAls/YWf47NXG7co/s1600/securedownload.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S7NGSIKhUBI/AAAAAAAAAls/YWf47NXG7co/s320/securedownload.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454780850919002130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom said they are going to try to take him outside on Thursday.   He hasn't been out in the sunshine since January.  I think it will do him some good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1762223413197596217?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1762223413197596217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1762223413197596217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1762223413197596217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1762223413197596217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/03/on-our-way-back-to-florida.html' title='On our way back to Florida'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S7NGSIKhUBI/AAAAAAAAAls/YWf47NXG7co/s72-c/securedownload.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-8403019681408673814</id><published>2010-03-21T18:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T18:51:57.367-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It just hit me today</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry all of my posts have been so negative lately.  I try to stay upbeat and optimistic in public.  This blog is really the only way I have to vent right now because I'm trying to keep a smile on my face elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad really isn't doing much better.  Mom says sometimes it seems like he is trying to communicate.  He will squeeze her hand some.  But most of the time, he looks sad and just out of it.   Still no movement on his right side.  His pneumonia is back.  He was aspirating his feeding liquids. Somehow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, being the psych nurse I am, I am very concerned about Dad getting depressed.  People with Open heart surgery as well as people who have suffered strokes have a very high probability of getting depressed.  So I asked mom to talk to his Dr about going ahead and getting him started on an antidepressant.  His response was, " those medicines take 4-6 weeks to take effect and well, we just aren't going to do that. "  I didn't understand it at all.  Why would you not start them?  With everything he's been through, of course he's going to be depressed!  Why would you not start them?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today it hit me. They don't want to start them because they don't think he has 4-6 weeks to live.  That's the only reason it could be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-8403019681408673814?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/8403019681408673814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=8403019681408673814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8403019681408673814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8403019681408673814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/03/it-just-hit-me-today.html' title='It just hit me today'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5398562589245007164</id><published>2010-03-10T23:34:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T21:49:41.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just don't know how much more of this I can take.  My dad had a severe stroke this morning. He had a procedure to remove the clot.  He seemed to do okay with it but he was not waking up like they thought he should and they were going to do a CT scan to see if there was another bleed somewhere.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just the thought of my dad being helpless or impaired from the stroke is almost more than I can take. Then, my mom, who I left the other day in rough shape, finds out her precious dog was hit by a car and died. Now she is so devastated and she is irrational and is suicidal.  My sister has 5 boys to raise and she can't afford to take any more time off of work. I was counting on her to kind of keep control of things but she tells me today that she just can't do it anymore.  Well, I can't either. I am in Florida every weekend.  I am tired.  My dad is the patriarch of this family and I just feel like without him to take care of things, everyone is falling apart right before my eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have responsibilities here. Rick has been so patient but he is neglected.  I had committed to helping Chanel with girl scouts and I haven't been able to.  Christy will be on maternity leave before long and work needs me.  My closest, dearest friend is struggling and i am helpless to help her. It's just too much.  My weight is out of control because I never have time to work out. That is making me depressed as well. Been to weight watchers 3 times and I weight more now than when I started.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am off to Florida tomorrow.  Sienna will go with me this time .  It will be nice to have the company.  Sienna is a good nurturer and thats just what I need.  A little nurturing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have to do this.  Just for today I can.  Just for today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5398562589245007164?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5398562589245007164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5398562589245007164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5398562589245007164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5398562589245007164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-just-dont-know-how-much-more-of-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-270398356258066669</id><published>2010-02-20T20:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T21:16:19.219-05:00</updated><title type='text'>...and today all is right with the world</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S4CXV8PRxUI/AAAAAAAAAlc/xD7HCJNhM0U/s1600-h/130-3053_IMG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S4CXV8PRxUI/AAAAAAAAAlc/xD7HCJNhM0U/s320/130-3053_IMG.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440514753066812738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this man. This is one of my favorite pictures of us together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January 15,2010 my dad had his first heart attack.  He has since had 2 more.  He's been in the hospital all but 3 days out of the last month.  All but one of those days has been in ICU.  He has had CPR performed on him 3 times.  He has had repair of a perforated bowel.  He has had Congestive Heart Failure, an adrenal tumor, respiratory arrest, blocked carotid artery, blood pressures in the 223/120 range. They found some sort of mass on his lung. He almost went into insulin shock.  Twice he was headed for open heart surgery and something happened that he couldn't do it.   He has been out on the roof talking on the phone and also somewhere in Texas, and apparently, according to him, out buying property with Rick. lol.  (He got a little loopy in ICU).  But through it all, my dad kept fighting.  I had all but given up on him a time or two but he never gave up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had his open heart surgery yesterday. And today he is doing great!!  They took him off the ventilator today.  He is alert and trying to talk.  It's hard to understand him because he's been intubated for so long.  When I go in to see him, I have to have my sister there because she's the only one of us who can understand him and I am so grateful to her.  But today, I actually laughed with him.  It felt so good. He just laughs and smiles real big.  His facial expressions just light up with conversation.  I think he is going to pull through and recover just fine.  For the first time in 4  weeks, I feel good about things.  It's like a ton of bricks has been lifted off of my chest. He had a lot of people praying for him and I'm not really a religious person but there's something to be said for the power of prayer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so grateful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-270398356258066669?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/270398356258066669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=270398356258066669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/270398356258066669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/270398356258066669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/02/and-today-all-is-right-with-world.html' title='...and today all is right with the world'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S4CXV8PRxUI/AAAAAAAAAlc/xD7HCJNhM0U/s72-c/130-3053_IMG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1034328853487601542</id><published>2010-02-12T17:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T17:13:48.647-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to go home</title><content type='html'>I have only been home 3 days out of the last 3 weeks.  I miss my husband. I miss my kids. I miss my friends and yes, I miss my work. (Never thought I would say that).  My dad has been very ill and I have been here in Florida with him.  And now, today, I just want to go home.  Maybe in a few days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1034328853487601542?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1034328853487601542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1034328853487601542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1034328853487601542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1034328853487601542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-want-to-go-home.html' title='I want to go home'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2270715958563739153</id><published>2010-01-24T15:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T16:15:02.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1st off: Happy things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S1yzrCLLL6I/AAAAAAAAAlM/_YP_HOGUxk8/s1600-h/IMG_0336.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S1yzrCLLL6I/AAAAAAAAAlM/_YP_HOGUxk8/s320/IMG_0336.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430412802601463714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that make me happy #2.  Being married. I love being married.  Rick and I have been married for 7 years now and I have not regretted my decision one single time.  It's wonderful knowing that someone is there for you at the end of the day.  It's wonderful being awakened by snoring in the night because if that's happening, you know that you are not alone. It's nice to have someone you can count on no matter what. Rick is the most incredible husband and being his wife makes me very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just returned from a week long trip to Florida.  My dad had a heart attack and we thought we were going to lose him.  He seems to be doing fine now, which is a relief.  He will have a quadruple bypass next week.  With my dad's illness, I've been thinking  a lot about death and dying. It's morbid I know.  But when faced with mortality, one can't help but consider things.  My mom and I talked a lot about funerals, finances, what to do with his possessions, how life would be without my dad.  I think it would be foolish of us to not talk about that stuff.  The man runs on a blood pressure of 230/180 and a blood sugar of 400 or greater.  I'm glad to know that if anything happens to my dad, my mom will be okay.  She is prepared for the worst and hoping for the best. I have seen this week that she is stronger than I have given her credit for.  My sister, on the other hand, is a basket case.  I thought that my sister would take care of my mom if anything happened to my dad,but it seems things are the other way around.  I'm a little surprised by that.  My mom can be pretty tough.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is not easy to live with.  At the hospital, he had one day where he was in a good mood.  I think that was the day that he realized that he could've died.  The subsequent days, he was a total grouch. To everyone.  Nurses, Doctors, Dieticians, us.  It was so hard to sit with him day in and day out listening to his verbal abuse of everyone.  I have told my mom that when he has his surgery, we would sit with him in shifts.  I just don't think I could take being there with him all day every day again. He wore me down and made me cry once.  I don't want to be in that position again.  I love him, but sometimes I don't like him very much. I think that is often the case between parents and their children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll keep you updated.  I'm not looking forward to the surgery next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2270715958563739153?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2270715958563739153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2270715958563739153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2270715958563739153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2270715958563739153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/01/1st-off-happy-things.html' title='1st off: Happy things'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S1yzrCLLL6I/AAAAAAAAAlM/_YP_HOGUxk8/s72-c/IMG_0336.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5574040832344064890</id><published>2010-01-10T16:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T17:46:14.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that make me happy</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year!  This year I have decided to try to do something different.  I've been doing a lot of soul searching since Christmas. Chanel gave me a memoir for Christmas that has really got me thinking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book is called, "Thin is the New Happy" By Valerie Frankel.&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thin-New-Happy-Valerie-Frankel/dp/0312373937/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;qid=1263162653&amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This book was just what I needed right now.  In the book, Ms. Frankel began dieting at age 11. Same as me.  She was only mildly overweight then but kids in school teased her, her mom obsessed with her weight and pretty soon her whole life revolved around her weight and dieting.  Same as me.  Starting at age 11. Isn't that insane?  Like Ms. Frankel my battle with my weight has gone on my entire life.  I had convinced myself that I would reach some sort of Nirvana  just as soon as I reached my goal weight.  I constantly think about food, how many calories are in it,  how many fat grams, how many ounces I am eating, how much I would have to work out to burn off those calories.  I talk about it all the time.  I know my family and friends are tired of hearing me talk about it all the time.  I am constantly on the quest for true happiness in a size 8.   But, like Ms.Frankel, I have come to realize that I am truly happy.  Here. Now. With this 190 pound body.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the book, she comes to this realization and decides that she is no longer going to let thoughts of weight and diet permeate her life.  She just stops dieting.  She makes a conscious decision to eat when she's hungry, stop when she's full and exercise 4 days a week.  Guess what? She lost weight and she was much more relaxed and happy.  She even stopped weighing herself. So that is my new philosophy: Stop dieting, be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to focus instead on the many, many things in my life that make me happy.  So, every week this year I am going to post about things that make me smile.  I'm going to work on a happiness scrapbook that I hope to have completed at the end of the year with photos of the plethora of things that bring me joy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for today, one thing that makes me happy are these. Pink Converse Tennis shoes.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S0pXPylu6hI/AAAAAAAAAk8/tjTJgY0rkg4/s1600-h/IMG_1174.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S0pXPylu6hI/AAAAAAAAAk8/tjTJgY0rkg4/s320/IMG_1174.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425244629910874642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   Oh how I wanted these for Christmas.  Leeann has some white ones that are just darling with capris and ever since I saw her wearing them I have been on the quest to have some pink ones.   I received these from Chanel for Christmas and I just think they are so cool! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5574040832344064890?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5574040832344064890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5574040832344064890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5574040832344064890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5574040832344064890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2010/01/things-that-make-me-happy.html' title='Things that make me happy'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/S0pXPylu6hI/AAAAAAAAAk8/tjTJgY0rkg4/s72-c/IMG_1174.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2058188996591881237</id><published>2009-12-01T16:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T16:43:00.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Change is coming</title><content type='html'>Had a meeting with our practice administrator today for my annual review.  He didn't want to give me a raise.  Now, mind you, I could understand this if I was a worthless employee. But I'm not.  He didn't want to give me a raise because I am only part time and he thinks I am already overcompensated for being a part time employee, that I do an outstanding job when I am at work, but I'm not at work much. I work 23-25 hours per week.  He also said that some of the other employees are wanting to follow my lead and go part time as well, and well...he has a business to run and he just can't let that happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been with this company for 11 years.  I think that entitles me to working part time if I want to and it's never been a problem before, it's just that now others want it too.  So, in order for it to be easier to say no to these other employees, starting in March, he wants me to go Full time.  He also pointed out to me that when I go full time, there won't be 3 or 4 vacations per year. Oh, and also, I can't take vacation at my normal April time next year because Christy will be on maternity leave.  Never mind that they just hired a medical assistant to take her place.  I personally don't see how her maternity leave should affect my vacation.  He said that I was giving him even more gray hair with all these vacations that I take.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am not going back full time.  I think I would go insane if I had to do what I do every day.  I guess that means I am going to be on the lookout for another job. Change is good most of the time.  It should be okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, he did give me a raise, but made it clear that the raises would not be routine anymore, unless of course I went full time. After all, as much as he likes me personally, he has a business to run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2058188996591881237?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2058188996591881237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2058188996591881237' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2058188996591881237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2058188996591881237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/12/change-is-coming.html' title='Change is coming'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5250814910125116774</id><published>2009-11-12T21:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T21:43:52.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am healed</title><content type='html'>Went to the Dr on Tuesday.  According to the x-rays, my fractures are healed.  I couldn't believe it when he told me because I still hurt so much. But, I saw the hard evidence and the bone is all grown back together.  So I am having to work through the pain and use my arm more and actually, two days later, I have only had to take 6 ibuprofen today as opposed to 12 most other days. I think using it more has helped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't believe the changes in my mood and attitude just knowing that it was safe to use my arm again. I didn't realize how down I had gotten.  But yesterday, at work when I was able to do my own blood pressures, write out my own notes and prescriptions, it was like a total burden had been lifted.  It was taking all of my energy at work just to write a note during and interview before but now it's so much better.  Though it hurts, I don't have to worry about re-injuring the arm so I can deal with it better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rick has been gone all this week to Las Vegas.  He comes home tomorrow. I thought I would have all this free time to myself but boy, was I wrong.  I had all these plans of things I wanted to do, places I wanted to shop, movies I wanted to see. Tonight is the first night I've had to just sit and watch TV.  I've spent a lot of time with the girls and with friends this week and I have really enjoyed it but it's exhausting.  I will be so glad when Rick comes home so we can get back into our normal routine of plopping down in front of the TV when we get home. I've missed him. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5250814910125116774?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5250814910125116774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5250814910125116774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5250814910125116774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5250814910125116774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-am-healed.html' title='I am healed'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6717322115972448899</id><published>2009-10-22T10:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T11:03:40.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'>just a little whining</title><content type='html'>Okay, I admit it now. I am starting to get depressed. People keep asking me this and I'm like "no no I'm fine."  But it's been tough. I'm not one to whine. I'm usually totally up beat and positive about life but this pain and lack of functioning of my left (and dominant) arm is starting to get to me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to the Dr. the other day because the pain seems to be getting worse and not better. First I saw the PA and she was like, he never put you in a cast?  Like she just couldn't believe it. But no, I have always been in this splint and in thus splint, I have the ability for movement and since its my dominant hand, it's hard not to move it.  The Dr also said he didn't see any healing yet and that there was a 1-2mm shift in the fracture. So, I absolutely am not to use this arm at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday at work, I was hurting a lot, so Dr R suggested we tape my fingers so I was not tempted to move my wrist. So we did that. Which affected everything I did.  I couldn't write,  I tried to write with my right hand and it took me two minutes to write a one line entry.  and it was illegible. No one could read anything I wrote all day.  I couldn't do vitals, so I had to constantly interrupt everyone else to come  and help me.  I couldn't fix my plate at lunch.  I can't cut up my food.  I can't even button and unbutton my own pants so I can go pee. It's not so bad when Rick or Sienna are helping me do that but it's different when it's the girls at work.I just felt like I was a constant annoyance to everybody yesterday and I only worked 1/2 a day. Today was to be a full day of clinic and I just could not make myself go to work today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been able to work out in over three weeks and I am really missing that. I feel like a slug. I just want my regular life back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough whining for now. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6717322115972448899?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6717322115972448899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6717322115972448899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6717322115972448899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6717322115972448899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-little-whining.html' title='just a little whining'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-718030605810336651</id><published>2009-10-06T13:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T14:05:56.949-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Once again, so much to catch up on.</title><content type='html'>I am typing this entry with one hand while we are taking a break from Disney for the afternoon.  This is what we do on our afternoons when we are here in Orlando.  Rick goes and takes a nap and since I can never sleep during the day, I sit out here and waste time. But I've decided to try to be productive today.  You see, it's been about a month since I've written in my blog and what a busy month it's been!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I am typing with one hand is because I have been injured in a car accident. My left arm is broken in 3 places and my right arm is injured as well with burns from the airbag. Last Tuesday, after working out, I went by the Burger King to get some breakfast, ( shame on me), and as I was driving home, I was plowed into by a red Toyota Camry. He says his light was green. I'm not really sure, but I am almost positive my light was green. The accident was frightening and I am currently still in a lot of pain. But they tell me it gets better so I'm trying to be patient.   &lt;br /&gt;Poor Rick has had to be my nursemaid.  Until yesterday, I couldn't even fasten my own britches.   This is very embarrassing when one has to leave the bathroom at Disney World with her pants unzipped and unbuttoned because it hurts too bad to twist her hand that way. Rick had to take me  to a quiet corner to button me up. lol.  I look like a hag because I can't fix my hair. Rick, bless his heart, tried to put my hair up in a pony tail but it didn't work very well.  Thank goodness for baseball caps.  He cuts up my food for me, he carries my backpack, he dresses my arm. He is so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disney is so fun, as always.  Rick has put restrictions on what rides I can ride but that's okay. There is so much to see and do here besides riding rollercoasters. Disney is my most favorite vacation spot and I have fun just being here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some other big news that I have to share is that Chanel is now living in Knoxville!!!!!  OMG I am so glad to have her home! I know it is meant to be that she is home because she got to keep her same job!  They like her so much that they offered to let her work from home in Knoxville!!!  So we got her set up in an adorable apartment in North Knoxville.  She really likes it there.   I have been so busy this month that I haven't had a lot of time to spend with her but I will definitely make up for it after Disney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend I went to Dallas for Jim's wedding.  I got to meet Diane for the first time and I must say that I absolutely love her!  She has 3 kids who are adorable, Eric is 18, Emily is 11 and Daniel is 6.  Such good kids.  She has really done a good job with them.  Jim is so lucky to have Diane.  She is happy, down to earth and beautiful.  He seems very happy and I am glad to see it.   My nephew Jimmy was there.  I hadn't seen him in about 7 or 8 yrs. He is such a good kid and we had a good time drinking beer and margaritas together. :)  I've missed him. He joined the Air Force after high school and has been in Iraq.  Now he is home and safe and living in N. Dakota but he is hoping to get shipped out to Afghanistan.  I don't really understand why he wants to go but I am really proud of his bravery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Aunt Pam came down for Jim's wedding.  I know it meant a lot to him that she came all the way from Michigan.  I was so happy to get to spend some time with her.  In my eyes she has always been a second mom to me and I feel blessed to have her in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's a quick run down of things going on.  I'll try to keep up with this thing a little better in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-718030605810336651?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/718030605810336651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=718030605810336651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/718030605810336651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/718030605810336651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/10/once-again-so-much-to-catch-up-on.html' title='Once again, so much to catch up on.'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-28695892781929621</id><published>2009-08-21T09:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T09:45:17.157-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm just bursting!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/So6k5ATrjDI/AAAAAAAAAk0/l75HgV4YsPA/s1600-h/IMG_0691.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/So6k5ATrjDI/AAAAAAAAAk0/l75HgV4YsPA/s320/IMG_0691.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372412704741624882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chanel and Steve broke up a couple of weeks ago.  And though I am sad for her heartache, I think it's for the best.  Now she has decided to take a leap of faith and come home to Knoxville to live.  I am so so happy about this!  I miss her terribly and I just think she needs to be here with family and friends who love her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is flying in on Saturday for a visit and for an interview with the Red Cross on Monday.  Working for a non-profit is really what she wants to do (much to Rick's chagrin) so I hope they really like her.   Even if she doesn't get that job, I think she is just going to go ahead and move here.  It will be easier for her to find a job when she is here. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to see her on Saturday!! I haven't seen her since June which seems like it was a lifetime ago.  She makes me happy and I have already made all kinds of plans for the things we can do together when she moves here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, when I talked to her about flying here for the interview, she hasn't any extra money.  Things are kind of tough for her right now.  So I told her I would talk to Rick about getting a plane ticket.   I did talk to Rick about it and he was very hesitant.  The Red Cross doesn't pay very much and he thinks it's silly to pay for her to fly here for a job prospect that doesn't pay very much.  He was resistent.  He knew that I really wanted to see her though.  But he just couldn't get is head wrapped around the concept of flying her here for that interview.  So he said, " I just can't bring myself to pay for a plane ticket for a job making only __per year, I'm sorry....However, I think it would be great to buy her a ticket just to come and visit."  So she is coming for a "visit" and it just so happens that she has an interview during her visit. lol.  That's how Rick rationalized it in his head.  And may I just say, I have the most awesome husband in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-28695892781929621?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/28695892781929621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=28695892781929621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/28695892781929621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/28695892781929621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-just-bursting.html' title='I&apos;m just bursting!'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/So6k5ATrjDI/AAAAAAAAAk0/l75HgV4YsPA/s72-c/IMG_0691.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-8340482297787370647</id><published>2009-08-10T21:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T22:02:06.293-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to Me!</title><content type='html'>I just have to say,  I have the best husband, friends and family that anyone could ever have.  Birthdays are kind of a big deal for me.  When I was growing up, my dad always made sure we had wonderful birthdays and they are still very important to me.  It's kind of nostalgic. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Treat 1: On Friday, Rick spoiled me as always.  He just keeps giving and giving and giving.  He gave me a Kindle, more training sessions with my trainer and a shopping spree.  And that's not all, I've also had like 3 birthday dinners! You see, with me, it's not just a birthday, it's a birthday weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treat 2:  Saturday, I used Rick's birthday money to go shopping with Sienna. I got the most beautiful Jessica Simpson purse.  It is Patent leather leopard print!  I think it's beautiful! Its so me!  Saturday night, we went out with two of our best friends, Don and Leeann.  We always have so much fun with them!  They make me laugh and I love that.  The gifts from them were wonderful, including a gift card only to be used when I go to visit Chanel.  Leeann knows how much I miss Chanel and I hope I get to use that gift card soon.  We went to Side Splitters again after dinner.  Leeann and I are both trying to limit our calorie intake so I was wondering how funny it would be this time with us not drinking alcohol.  (I did have 1/2 a beer) Our headliner, Julie Scoggins, was so very funny!  we were rolling with laughter!  So, even without alcohol it was great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treat 3: On Sunday, my treat was having breakfast twice!  I LOVE breakfast! I wish I could eat it with every meal sometimes.  We had IHOP for breakfast and Cracker Barrel for dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best treats of all:  Today, my actual birthday, I went first thing to swim at the pool.  Then at 10 I went to Ross the Boss Spa and had the most wonderful hour long massage.  Amy is the lady who always does my massages and her hands are magic. So, relaxing. After the massage, I took a long hot shower in a shower that had 5 shower heads!  Felt so good!  &lt;br /&gt;I also had a nice visit with Kimi while I had a pedicure.  So, everything is good and I'm am all chilled and relaxed and I go to pay and Courtney says "you're all taken care of, Shara called and paid for it."  omg,  I was like, really?  She paid for me? really? I couldn't believe it.  Such a wonderful birthday surprise! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then..best of all....There is this dress at Torrid that I absolutely love.  It came out at the beginning of summer and I thought it was too expensive.  I kept going back to look at it...still not on sale.  I even put it on my Amazon wish list.  I talk about that dress all the time. LOVE that dress. I just looked at it last week. Still not on sale and there were only two left in the store.  And lo and behold, Sienna walked into my house today with that DRESS!!! And guess what?  It was on sale when she got it today!  It went on sale on my birthday!  I was meant to have that dress!!! lol.  I meant to take a pic today but forgot.  I plan on wearing it all the time.    LOVE THAT DRESS! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up to this point, I haven't had birthday cake.  I'm really trying to watch what I eat, but I really wanted birthday cake.  and I wanted Carrot Cake.  So Gondolier has the best carrot cake ever so that's where we went to eat dinner.  But when we got there, there was no carrot cake in the case.  I was very disappointed.  But when I asked, the server said, "you're in luck.  We just put the carrot cake out."  Yay for us!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this has been a wonderful birthday weekend.  I am so grateful for everyone who loves me and who cares about me enough to help me to have a happy birthday.  Thanks everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-8340482297787370647?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/8340482297787370647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=8340482297787370647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8340482297787370647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8340482297787370647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to Me!'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-7868505308966154973</id><published>2009-07-31T09:59:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T11:06:33.305-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It was time to get moving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://http://www.amazon.com/Younger-Next-Women-Chris-Crowley/dp/0761140735"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, I've been working out for the last month.  Every day but one.  I finally got to work out with my trainer this morning and she about killed me but now I feel so good!  She had wanted me to work out in the pool and I was very nervous about it because I am just an average swimmer and she said she wanted me to swim 1,000 yards and then do some water aerobics stuff.  I'm like, 1,000 yards? You have got to be kidding me.  She says that is the fastest and easiest way to get the weight off. I am all about getting these last 30 pounds off so I'm up for anything.  But with the thunder and lightning this morning the pool was closed so I thought I might get a reprieve but, not so much.  She pushed me harder than I ever thought I could go and I am so proud of myself for not quitting.  &lt;br /&gt;I still want to do the 1/2 marathon at Disney.  Rick wants me to just give it up.  He's afraid it will be too hard on my knees to train for it. But I really want to do it.  My trainer, Stephanie, thinks I can get ready in time.  I'm going to do the Princess one at Disney in March.  The reason I had stopped running is because my knees did hurt but mostly because Rick said my breasts bounced too much.  And while he enjoyed watching,  I didn't want everyone else to.  :)  So, I have invested in Super Duper sports bras. They were very expensive but boy, what a difference!.   So, since I have those, I am geared up to train again.  It's very exciting.  If I can just get this weight off, it will be so much easier. &lt;br /&gt;I feel so much better working out every day.  My energy is great.  I am sleeping well and I don't require as much sleep as I did.  My cognition is improved so work is better and my mood is happy.   I read that book awhile back, "Younger Next Year for Women."&lt;a href="http://http://www.amazon.com/Younger-Next-Women-Chris-Crowley/dp/0761140735"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;".And that has really motivated me to get moving.  I want to live a long time.  My 43rd birthday is in 10 days and I want to be around to celebrate 43 more and I think exercise is the key. &lt;br /&gt;So I'll keep you posted on how I'm doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-7868505308966154973?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/7868505308966154973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=7868505308966154973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7868505308966154973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7868505308966154973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-was-time-to-get-moving.html' title='It was time to get moving'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6509274778504024117</id><published>2009-06-21T18:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T18:49:09.925-04:00</updated><title type='text'>25 years</title><content type='html'>My 25th High school reunion was this weekend.  I didn't go and I have no regrets about that. (It looks like they had a great time though.)&lt;br /&gt;See. the thing is..I essentially missed my entire senior year of high school.  I only went for one class the first half of the year, then I graduated early, in January.  So,  I really missed out on a lot. All the Senior year activities and ball games and parties.  My classmates made memories that will last them a lifetime and I wasn't a part of all that.  At the time, I couldn't wait to get out of school.  I wanted work and college and adult things.  I thought my classmates were immature and petty.  I had a few close friends of course, but I wanted distance from them all. I wanted to grow up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And boy, did I.  I got totally caught up in Danny and his friends. ( he went to a different school and graduated a year ahead of me).  And then, I was pregnant and a mom and I really had to be an adult then. I completely lost touch of all of those high school kids that I wanted so badly to get away from. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now, as I look at everybody's photos from the reunion, I'm like, I hardly even remember all of these people.  I have very few memories of high school. I did go to my 20th and of course people remembered me, and I had a good time, but I felt out of place.  Like I was on the outside looking in.   It's like that period of my life has been erased from my brain.  Weird that I have no sense of attachment to any of my classmates, except for a handful of people.  It's kind of sad, actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My closest friends from HS and I have been in touch and I hope that we can continue to see each other from time to time.  But as far as reunions go, I just feel like I don't belong there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6509274778504024117?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6509274778504024117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6509274778504024117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6509274778504024117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6509274778504024117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/06/25-years.html' title='25 years'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4609942280367338368</id><published>2009-06-19T10:21:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T19:10:47.613-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I had a wonderful time in Kansas city.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuxLqeRTWI/AAAAAAAAAkg/5BPkpYzUbvI/s1600-h/IMG_0677.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuxLqeRTWI/AAAAAAAAAkg/5BPkpYzUbvI/s320/IMG_0677.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349063796370525538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Friday, Chanel had to work.  I had planned on using her car when I arrived Thursday night so that I could do some sight seeing while she was at work.  But that didn't work out.  I thought I might take a cab into town, but it turns out that the hotel was about 20 mins from downtown and that probably would have cost me a fortune, so I just hung out at the hotel.  Sat by the pool for awhile.  Watched people work out, lol. I should have been working out myself but I was so tired. So, I took a 3 hour nap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuuYGr-vHI/AAAAAAAAAjo/533GSaGIh2I/s1600-h/IMG_0682.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuuYGr-vHI/AAAAAAAAAjo/533GSaGIh2I/s320/IMG_0682.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349060711567768690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so happy to see Chanel at the end of the day! She always has a bright, happy face and I just love to see her.  We were headed to the Melting Pot for dinner.  It is Chanel's favorite place and she just can't afford it right now, so I was happy to treat her.  Chanel's roommate, Lisa joined us.  Love her.  Chanel had told me that she thought Lisa was the nicest girl she's ever known. I thought, How sweet.  Well the funny thing is, Lisa told me the same thing about Chanel.  They are a match made in heaven.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/Sjuu3T6le0I/AAAAAAAAAjw/7H1BUxYf1Ek/s1600-h/IMG_0721.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/Sjuu3T6le0I/AAAAAAAAAjw/7H1BUxYf1Ek/s320/IMG_0721.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349061247694633794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, we slept in late, had a big breakfast and we were off to downtown.  I'm so glad I brought my GPS because Chanel had no clue where to go.  The GPS took us right to where we needed to be.  We went to a few museums.  Took lots of pictures.  We saw a Lego exhibit which was so awesome.  We ate lunch at the Crown Center in a little restaurant called Fritz's.  There is a rail that goes all along the top of the room and a little choo choo train delivers your food right to your table.  So fun!  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuvUJn0DPI/AAAAAAAAAj4/YVmxp5VXs6Q/s1600-h/IMG_0692.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuvUJn0DPI/AAAAAAAAAj4/YVmxp5VXs6Q/s320/IMG_0692.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349061743147748594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuvvqBLFxI/AAAAAAAAAkA/d77BADU4WZ4/s1600-h/IMG_0699.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 307px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuvvqBLFxI/AAAAAAAAAkA/d77BADU4WZ4/s320/IMG_0699.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349062215700518674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a place called The Plaza in the middle of downtown.  It was so beautiful there.  At least 50 fountains and all kinds of sculptures.  It's got all kinds of stores, American Eagle, Eddie Bauer, Tiffany's. And many stores that I've never heard of. The plaza expands 12 blocks.  The architecture is beautiful.  Spanish, I think.  So we are walking along taking photos, and there is this guy sitting on a bench with a jar of change in his hand.  And he is chanting, "would you like to make a donation for a downpayment on a cheeseburger?"  over and over.  And he was bringing in the money!  Now that's being innovative.  I wish I had taken a picture. It seemed to be making people want to donate, moreso than to those who just stand on the corner with their cardboard signs.T here were people playing music on the sidewalks and that was fun to stop and listen to. There were people everywhere but it didn't seem too crowded.  What a great experience!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuwpL4PEYI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/LF2aueLCup4/s1600-h/IMG_0733.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 270px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuwpL4PEYI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/LF2aueLCup4/s320/IMG_0733.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349063204042379650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/Sjuw924xr9I/AAAAAAAAAkY/g4zzx4LeSxk/s1600-h/IMG_0768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/Sjuw924xr9I/AAAAAAAAAkY/g4zzx4LeSxk/s320/IMG_0768.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349063559184756690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kansas City is a lovely city.  I can understand why Chanel wants to live there.  So much cultural stuff to do.  Jazz, art, BBQ. I loved it there.  And the people are so friendly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel better now about Chanel being there.  I'm so glad I went. She seems happy with her job.  She lives in a beautiful house with good roommates. I think she's a bit lonely though.  She needs a good friend.  She needs Steve there but I'm not sure that is happening anytime soon.  I hope that he can get the transfer before long.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss her already and am planning my trip back.  I'm hoping I can do it a little less expensively next time though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4609942280367338368?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4609942280367338368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4609942280367338368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4609942280367338368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4609942280367338368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-had-wonderful-time-in-kansas-city.html' title='I had a wonderful time in Kansas city.'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SjuxLqeRTWI/AAAAAAAAAkg/5BPkpYzUbvI/s72-c/IMG_0677.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-9092026282098350202</id><published>2009-06-12T12:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T12:44:57.187-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It will all be worth it</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I had a bad day at work.  Then I was supposed to catch a flight to Kansas City so I could visit Chanel this weekend.  My flight was delayed by 2 1/2 hours. Then, of course, I missed my connection in Chicago.  Now, mind you, I always have Rick around to settle me down when things like this happen.  But I was all by myself and I had had way too much coffee because I knew I would be up late. So, I was a nervous wreck. When I figured out that I would have to stay overnight in Chicago I cried.  Not because I would have to stay. but because I would have to stay without my make up and my hair straightener. LOL.  I was crying with Chanel on the phone and I kept saying, "but I'm going to look like a hag!"  Nah, I'm not vain at all. &lt;br /&gt;Chicago airport is huge and I was fearful of that but once I realized I missed my flight, I was able to sort of wander around and try to figure out what I should do.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We love to stay at Country Inns and Suites and Rick had texted me their # so I called them and got a room and they sent a shuttle.  The shuttle driver kind of looked scary.  I was still pretty anxious.  So we are driving and driving through a rough part of town and I just knew he was going to take me out into some dark alley and murder me.  This is what too much coffee and too little sleep does to me.  I was paranoid.  So much so that I even started a text to Rick to tell him I was in Chicago and if he didn't hear from me, I was probably a goner. But then, just as I was going to send it, I saw the hotel which turned out to be 25 mins from the airport.  So then I get all checked in and its about 11:30 Chicago time.  And I had to get up at 4.  And of course I couldn't go to sleep.  I think I may have slept 2 hours last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today has been good.  The flight was fine and I made it to the hotel without problem.  I feel much more relaxed today.  Chanel is working until 5 so I think I'll just lay by the pool and relax a bit before she gets here.  I am so excited to see her!  We are going to The Melting Pot tonight and then tomorrow we will have the whole day to spend together.  I think we are going to an amusement park. I had talked to Leeann yesterday when I was so stressed at the airport and she just said, it will all be worth it when you get to see Chanel and she is so right.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post pics when I have them. &lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-9092026282098350202?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/9092026282098350202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=9092026282098350202' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/9092026282098350202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/9092026282098350202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/06/it-will-all-be-worth-it.html' title='It will all be worth it'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6126815321579380657</id><published>2009-05-28T18:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:30:50.881-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Younger Next Year</title><content type='html'>I have lost focus on my weight loss journey.  Seems like after vacation I have just had such a hard time. And so I have started reading my good health bible again. The book is called "Younger Next Year..for women." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 7 basic rules to aging well and continuing to be healthy as we get older.&lt;br /&gt; 1. Exercise hard 6 days a week for the rest of your life.&lt;br /&gt; 2. Do serious aerobic exercise four days a week for the rest of your life.&lt;br /&gt; 3. Do serious weight training two days a week for the rest of your life.&lt;br /&gt; 4. Spend less than you make,&lt;br /&gt; 5. Quit eating crap.  Basically, don't eat what you know you are not supposed to eat.&lt;br /&gt; 6. Care about others.  If you're married, stay married.  If not, get a partner.&lt;br /&gt; 7. Connect and Commit.-friends, volunteering, just being social.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I can just focus on these basic rules, focus on being healthy and not so much on the weight, I will be a much happier girl.  I want to feel like 50 at 80.  I want to live a very long, healthy life and I think the concepts in this book are the answer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6126815321579380657?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6126815321579380657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6126815321579380657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6126815321579380657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6126815321579380657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/05/younger-next-year.html' title='Younger Next Year'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-357752771834186712</id><published>2009-04-14T08:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T08:14:58.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On our way back to Disney!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-fe.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=3098476543646147582&amp;amp;site=widget-fe.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=ffb&amp;amp;id=3098476543646147582&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-fe.slide.com/p1/3098476543646147582/bb_t000_v000_s0ffb_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=ffb&amp;amp;id=3098476543646147582&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-fe.slide.com/p2/3098476543646147582/bb_t000_v000_s0ffb_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;amp;at=ffb&amp;amp;amp;id=3098476543646147582&amp;amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-fe.slide.com/m/3098476543646147582/bb_t000_v000_s0ffb_f00/images/xslide9_1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;at=ffb&amp;id=3098476543646147582&amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-fe.slide.com/p4/3098476543646147582/bb_t000_v000_s0ffb_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-357752771834186712?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/357752771834186712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=357752771834186712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/357752771834186712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/357752771834186712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_14.html' title='On our way back to Disney!'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-3565551676347273715</id><published>2009-04-10T20:48:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T22:39:15.442-04:00</updated><title type='text'>a bouquet of sunshine</title><content type='html'>I had a horrible week at work last week and I am so glad it's over.  Tuesday is when Sienna and I usually have lunch together but this past Tuesday she couldn't come.  Just as well, because I didn't get to take a lunch anyway.  I had talked to Sienna on the phone and told her I was stressed and an hour later, she walks  in to the office with these. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/Sd_pd5E0zlI/AAAAAAAAAjg/NL9mnx_nbL0/s1600-h/IMG_0112.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/Sd_pd5E0zlI/AAAAAAAAAjg/NL9mnx_nbL0/s320/IMG_0112.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323229984321752658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really made my day.  Sometimes a little sunshine is all a girl needs to brighten a dark  day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-3565551676347273715?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/3565551676347273715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=3565551676347273715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3565551676347273715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3565551676347273715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/04/bouquet-of-sunshine.html' title='a bouquet of sunshine'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/Sd_pd5E0zlI/AAAAAAAAAjg/NL9mnx_nbL0/s72-c/IMG_0112.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-155344509292372466</id><published>2009-04-06T07:44:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T21:59:19.868-04:00</updated><title type='text'>1/2 marathon</title><content type='html'>I love Disney world.  I will be going twice this year.  We are leaving in 10 days!   I found out yesterday that Disney is having a 1/2 marathon in January of 2010.  I am going to register for it,  I think.  I haven't actually decided yet for sure because I want Chanel to do it with me and it costs $120 to register.  I'm not sure she will have the money in time to register.  But I want to do it.  There are some friends from high school who want to do it with me, so I may just go ahead and run it and do another one with Chanel later on.   I found this site on the web, Couch to 1/2 Marathon. Well, actually, its Couch to 5K, 10K and then 1/2 marathon.  so it's a 32 week training program.  Which would put me in November and then I would still have two more months to train.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really think I can do this.  A year ago, I would say you were crazy if you wanted me to run a 1/2 marathon.  But I have been working out almost every single day for a few months now and anything seems possible.   Yes, I'm serious about this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-155344509292372466?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/155344509292372466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=155344509292372466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/155344509292372466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/155344509292372466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/04/12-marathon.html' title='1/2 marathon'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6353769206289202782</id><published>2009-03-29T21:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T22:01:06.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing Canasta</title><content type='html'>I'm really missing Chanel these days. Just leave it at that.  There's no more that needs to be said about it.  I just am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sienna...though I am really missing Chanel, I am really enjoying Sienna.  She's really stepped up since Chanel has been gone and I so appreciate it. We go to weight watchers together every Wednesday and she comes to have lunch with me on Tuesdays and then usually Sundays after church we hang out.  Tonight, she taught me how to play canasta. Canasta is a pretty complicated game.  I was so proud of how patient she was. She will make a great teacher.  I can be a slow learner when it comes to games, but she was patient and it didn't seem like I got on her nerves at all.  And that just makes me smile because a few years ago, everything I did got on her nerves.  I love the young lady she is becoming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6353769206289202782?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6353769206289202782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6353769206289202782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6353769206289202782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6353769206289202782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/03/playing-canasta.html' title='Playing Canasta'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-9050624869480452311</id><published>2009-03-18T20:14:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T20:56:08.791-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today was a good day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/ScGS3XLX9VI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/3OgAG0MsOzk/s1600-h/101-0194_IMG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/ScGS3XLX9VI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/3OgAG0MsOzk/s320/101-0194_IMG.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314690515086079314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have been on this weight loss journey for a lot of years.  I can honestly say that in all of my days of struggling, I never thought I would ever be able to say what I am going to say to you in just a bit.  Obesity can sneak up on you.  Before you know it, you are waddling around wondering why it is that your knees and hips hurt all the time.  You wonder why it is that sitting down in a booth at a restaurant has become so difficult.  You worry that you will fall and that someone will see you struggling to stand back up.   You wonder when exactly was that when tying your shoes started to take your breath away.   But it just happens and it sort of makes me cry to think about it now.  But then one day you get on the scale at weight watchers and the lady says 292#. So, that motivates you for a little while, but it is short lasting and thus goes the ongoing struggle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;293 was my top weight.  But now,things are so much different. I work out usually twice a day.  I have plenty of room in the booths at the restaurant.  I feel better than I have felt in as far back as I can remember and today I went to the weight watchers lady and she said I weigh 192!  Still not a great number but the reality of it is, I have kept plugging along on this journey.   I never in my life thought I would be able to say "I've lost 100 pounds". And, sure it's taken me a long time and I have probably gained more than 100 pounds over the years but I'm coming along.  I am proud of myself. Just thought I would share.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/ScGTBNxELVI/AAAAAAAAAjY/YrL2J-DwKXk/s1600-h/IMG_7552.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/ScGTBNxELVI/AAAAAAAAAjY/YrL2J-DwKXk/s320/IMG_7552.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314690684358503762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-9050624869480452311?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/9050624869480452311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=9050624869480452311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/9050624869480452311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/9050624869480452311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/03/today-was-good-day.html' title='Today was a good day.'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/ScGS3XLX9VI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/3OgAG0MsOzk/s72-c/101-0194_IMG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-3034326056848496321</id><published>2009-03-07T15:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T16:15:39.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When did this happen?</title><content type='html'>I was talking to Chanel this morning and of course, we were talking about weight loss and working out and I told her that I was going to try to get Rick to go for a walk and asked her if she was going to come.  To which she said no.  So I was like, c'mon we need to work out and she said, "When did this happen?!"  She was meaning of course, when did I become the one who was always wanting to work out and she become the one who was always avoiding it. Used to be, it was vice versa.  Same way with Rick.  He used to always be the one pushing me.  So, I'm not sure when this happened but I must say, I love the way things are now.  I work out at least 6 days a week for 45 mins to an hour.  I feel fantastic.  I feel so good that I just want to do it more and more.  It was so hard to get myself motivated before.  Now, it just seems easy.  (Chanel doesn't want to do it because she is on this silly raw food diet again and she has no energy.  I hope she stops this soon and gets back to weight watchers.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been great having her here with me this week.  I love having her around. I love the fact that she doesn't have to be entertained.  She is content to just sit and chat for hours.  It's refreshing.  She will be leaving for Kansas City on Monday.  Steve is coming to help her drive there.  He has a cousin there who has agreed to let Chanel stay there for awhile. She is going to try to focus her efforts on the KC job market.  Southwest has a hub there so hopefully Steve can get a transfer.  She has an interview there on Tuesday.  I am really hoping something comes up for her soon.  The job market is really tough right now, but I think she is an extraordinary girl who will outshine all of the other candidates for the job. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great Saturday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-3034326056848496321?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/3034326056848496321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=3034326056848496321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3034326056848496321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3034326056848496321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-did-this-happen.html' title='When did this happen?'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2141750040600221662</id><published>2009-03-02T11:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T11:26:10.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>scrapbooking retreat</title><content type='html'>I just got done working out.  Chanel and I made a pinky promise that we would work out 60 mins a day, 5 days a week.  I don't know if she is sticking to it, but I am.   I am trying to work out 6 days a week though.  I am reading a new book, "Younger Next Year."  They recommend 6 days a week in it.  We went away on a retreat this past weekend and we even worked out one day at the retreat!  Here's a pic of me and Shara doing Walk Away the Pounds. &lt;a or="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" hnbluref="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawFKpTuzjI/AAAAAAAAAig/3104zmMrxrc/s1600-h/securedownload-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawFKpTuzjI/AAAAAAAAAig/3104zmMrxrc/s320/securedownload-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308623741208415794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the weekend with Leeann and Shara on a scrapbooking retreat. There were 17 of us altogether.  It was wonderful.  We got to sleep in bunk beds and we got to sleep as late as we wanted.  We lounged around in our pajamas and sweats. Leeann and I even made a Chik fil a run in our PJs.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawIU1VvLnI/AAAAAAAAAjI/gN_L_mz0RBE/s1600-h/IMG_0377.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawIU1VvLnI/AAAAAAAAAjI/gN_L_mz0RBE/s320/IMG_0377.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308627214771629682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We didn't have to cook, clean, do laundry ,anything.  Just scrapped, and shopped and scrapped some more.  It was a lot of fun being with other women with the same love for scrapbooking that we have.  Mostly it was just  very special bonding with Leeann and Shara.   I hope we can do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawHiUVW7oI/AAAAAAAAAjA/R6pqwc5ye5I/s1600-h/securedownload-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawHiUVW7oI/AAAAAAAAAjA/R6pqwc5ye5I/s320/securedownload-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308626346918211202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawHiCnGX7I/AAAAAAAAAi4/-HXC_m2q47Y/s1600-h/IMG_0362.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawHiCnGX7I/AAAAAAAAAi4/-HXC_m2q47Y/s320/IMG_0362.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308626342160785330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawHhpJd41I/AAAAAAAAAiw/FowS7IxxrnQ/s1600-h/IMG_0360.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawHhpJd41I/AAAAAAAAAiw/FowS7IxxrnQ/s320/IMG_0360.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308626335325610834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawHhukMgAI/AAAAAAAAAio/rXEQdCM04EY/s1600-h/securedownload-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawHhukMgAI/AAAAAAAAAio/rXEQdCM04EY/s320/securedownload-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308626336779894786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2141750040600221662?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2141750040600221662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2141750040600221662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2141750040600221662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2141750040600221662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-just-got-done-working-out.html' title='scrapbooking retreat'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SawFKpTuzjI/AAAAAAAAAig/3104zmMrxrc/s72-c/securedownload-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-608438229387001645</id><published>2009-02-14T16:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T16:48:53.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have been after Rick for quite some time about his eating and lack of exercise.  I'm generally not a nag but gosh, I want to keep him around for a long time so I nag him to get healthy.  I know he gets tired of listening to me so this year for Valentine's day I told him that my gift to him was to take him to Litton's so he could have a nice fat juicy cheeseburger and red velvet cake.  I also promised him that I wouldn't say anything about the calories and fat he would be consuming today.  We hadn't been to Littons in probably 10 years.  They used to have the biggest, best hamburgers around.  Their red velvet cake was to die for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have really been trying to watch what I eat and the thought of going to Litton's was totally stressing me out.  I obsessed about it all week.  They never used to have any healthy food.  And their red velvet cake is so good, how could I resist? But, it was my gift to Rick and I wasn't going to cancel out on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we went.  They did have a grilled chicken salad which was mediocre at best.  Rick did have his cheeseburger which was a lot smaller than it used to be and that too was mediocre.  We decided to forgo the red velvet cake.  So, all in all, it wasn't bad at all.  I was so stressed about it and it was nothing.  I'm pretty proud of myself because I really wanted a cheeseburger but when Rick said it wasn't that good, I felt better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we are going out with friends.  We will have too much wine, I'm sure.  I'm a little stressed about that. But it's a rare occasion that the four of us can go out together so I am hoping to just forget about the calories and enjoy us all being together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wish for myself is that someday, I will be able to live my life without constantly obsessing over how many calories are in every morsel I put in my mouth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-608438229387001645?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/608438229387001645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=608438229387001645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/608438229387001645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/608438229387001645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-have-been-after-rick-for-quite-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1422293972439127389</id><published>2009-02-09T21:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T22:15:21.938-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm her person</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SZDw403dXOI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/QJzgpCiWHhU/s1600-h/IMG_1687-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SZDw403dXOI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/QJzgpCiWHhU/s320/IMG_1687-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301001620469669090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Leeann's horse passed away this morning.  It was a tragic thing that never should have happened and I am sorry for their loss.   You see, her pain is my pain just like her joy is my joy.  Its tough seeing her so sad. I am her person and she is mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SZDxErwVYgI/AAAAAAAAAiY/VP2eg71DEeI/s1600-h/Gift+Exchange+05+(21).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SZDxErwVYgI/AAAAAAAAAiY/VP2eg71DEeI/s320/Gift+Exchange+05+(21).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301001824182297090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was talking to my friend Christy today.  She is getting married in April and they want to start trying for children right away.  She fears that there will be difficulty getting pregnant and then when she does, maintaining the pregnancy.  So, they've decided that when she does get pregnant, she and her Rick will each have one person to tell and then hold off on telling anyone else until after the first trimester.  And she told me that I am her person!  I was like, really? Me?  I'm your person? seriously?  There comes a point in every friendship, I think, where you think about how close your friendship is. I mean, I feel very close to Christy, and I know that she feels close to me, but her person?  Wow.  I am honored. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all have your person.  I couldn't live without mine.  It's rare that you have a friendship where they know all there is to know about you, good and bad, and they still will call you their person. I treasure those friendships. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a happy night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1422293972439127389?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1422293972439127389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1422293972439127389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1422293972439127389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1422293972439127389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-her-person.html' title='I&apos;m her person'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SZDw403dXOI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/QJzgpCiWHhU/s72-c/IMG_1687-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-3900512388867001519</id><published>2009-02-08T17:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T17:49:40.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>These are the days that try men's (or women's) souls.</title><content type='html'>Sienna told me today that she has been laid off from her job effective immediately.  A year ago, I would have said, It's okay, you'll just find another. Today, I can't offer that bit of encouragement. The unemployment rate just keeps climbing.  Now, both of my girls are unemployed and I am like, what the heck?!  How are people supposed to make a living?  I'm worried.  Chanel is in California and though I am not sure whether she is planning on living out there or not, California has double digit unemployment rates. Like the highest in the country along with Rhode Island and Michigan.  I don't think California is the place for her to be, but where is?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what the crazy thing is?  We are busier than ever at my job.   People may not have enough money for the light bill, but they  are making sure they have enough for their psychiatrist. People are so stressed out these days, they need to see their psychiatrist now more than ever.  Sad times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I don't know what Chanel and Sienna are going to do.  I don't know how to fix it for them.   Just keep praying, I guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-3900512388867001519?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/3900512388867001519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=3900512388867001519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3900512388867001519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3900512388867001519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/02/these-are-days-that-try-mens-or-womens.html' title='These are the days that try men&apos;s (or women&apos;s) souls.'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4854424163727133090</id><published>2009-01-31T18:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T18:35:17.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is what Saturdays should be made of.</title><content type='html'>Sleep in til 9:30&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast at McDonald's&lt;br /&gt;Catch up on phone calls.&lt;br /&gt;Plan for our trip.&lt;br /&gt;Lunch at the Soup Kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;Catch up on emails.&lt;br /&gt;Scrap. &lt;br /&gt;Scrap.&lt;br /&gt;Nap.&lt;br /&gt;Scrap.&lt;br /&gt;Scrap.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner.&lt;br /&gt;Scrap. &lt;br /&gt;Scrap.&lt;br /&gt;Shower.&lt;br /&gt;Scrap.&lt;br /&gt;Veg in front of the TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Saturdays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4854424163727133090?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4854424163727133090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4854424163727133090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4854424163727133090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4854424163727133090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-is-what-saturdays-should-be-made.html' title='This is what Saturdays should be made of.'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2156221384801518369</id><published>2009-01-30T18:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T19:02:38.688-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, so now that I've "rethunk"  things... :)</title><content type='html'>I have been in the same career for 17 years.  I feel stuck.  Problem is, psych nursing is very specialized and I can't just switch to another form of nursing without a lot of discomfort.  I don't have any "medical nursing" skills.  I would have no idea what to do on say, a med surg unit of a hospital. I've really shot myself in the foot.  I loved psych nursing and could never imagine doing anything but psych nursing but here we are..17 years later.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I am fortunate to have a job in this economy.  I know that.  We are trying to save money so we can retire in 6 years.  I am like the queen bee at my office.  I am allowed to take as many vacations per year as  I would like. .I truly love every person I work with. I only work 3.25 days per week. I make a damn good salary. So what, you may ask, am I complaining about?  I have no idea.  Those of you who know me well, know that I just go through this from time to time. I'm not trying to be lazy.  I do work hard. I just get emotionally drained from my job and it seems to be more draining as the years go by. So I have decided that just for now, I will just take it day by day.  There are only 76 more days until my next vacation.  It helps to have time off to look forward to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2156221384801518369?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2156221384801518369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2156221384801518369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2156221384801518369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2156221384801518369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/01/okay-so-now-that-ive-rethunk-things.html' title='Okay, so now that I&apos;ve &quot;rethunk&quot;  things... :)'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5442190892776036474</id><published>2009-01-29T18:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T18:35:05.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ponderings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SYI9HlCzRPI/AAAAAAAAAiI/si4RMxyImOY/s1600-h/IMG_0218.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SYI9HlCzRPI/AAAAAAAAAiI/si4RMxyImOY/s320/IMG_0218.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296863312153363698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been sick this week but I seem to be coming out of it.  I've had a lot of time on my hands to think about things.  When you don't have any strength or energy, the easiest thing to do it just veg out and think about your life. So that's what I have been doing.  Here are some things that have been on my mind. &lt;br /&gt;1. I really like being home.  I don't want to work anymore. I am going to try to figure out some way that I can make that happen. I've just been disenheartened by my job lately and I'm really kind of over it.   Or, if it can't work that I can stop working, then I need to start working at something else. I would even be willing to give up my biannual trips to Disney World.&lt;br /&gt;2. Aside from Rick,  I only have one friend in this world who will tell me to suck it up or get it together.  It's funny how people are. People are so afraid that you will get mad at them that they will most of the time just tell you what you want to hear. And most of the time, that is fine.  But sometimes, its just perfect to have a friend who will bitch-slap you and tell you to quit whining and deal with it.  I am lucky to have that kind of a friend.&lt;br /&gt;3. My dad, gruff and ornery as he is, loves me intensely.  He has called me every day this week to basically tell me to get my ass to the Dr.  But I know that he was really struggling with worry and it makes me smile to think about him.  He really is a softie underneath. I've been thinking a lot about when I was growing up with him as my dad.&lt;br /&gt;4. I really can't let my mommy guilt continue to rule my life.  It is my fault Danny and I divorced.  I beat myself up about it all the time.  I keep trying to make the guilt go away in my mind but it is always there. It tears me up sometimes.  I know my kids have struggled because of my choices.  But, damn, that was 13 years ago.  Let it go, already.&lt;br /&gt;5. I really want to laugh more.  And the way to do that is to surround myself with people who laugh.   I wish I had more time to spend with my friends.  Again, if I didn't have to work.....&lt;br /&gt;6.  I nag Rick too much.  Mostly about his health.  I wish he would take better care of himself.  But nagging just makes him put up a wall and so there is no benefit.  So, I can just lead by example.  I will get healthy and I will get this weight off and hopefully then, he will want to do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there have been lots of things going through my mind these last few days.  Alot of them thanks to Dr. Phil. lol.  I have watched so much TV this week. You just can't imagine how much.  I'd watch a little, sleep a little, watch a little....&lt;br /&gt;Those are just a few of my ponderings this week.  There are so many more of course, but I'm sure you are bored enough already. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5442190892776036474?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5442190892776036474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5442190892776036474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5442190892776036474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5442190892776036474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/01/ponderings.html' title='ponderings'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SYI9HlCzRPI/AAAAAAAAAiI/si4RMxyImOY/s72-c/IMG_0218.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6746218805914111460</id><published>2009-01-25T13:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T13:42:40.098-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my turn</title><content type='html'>I guess it's my turn to be sick.  I am always the girl who goes around bragging because I never get sick, yet, here I am, sick.   The only thing that has gotten me out of bed today is hunger.  And, since I have little food at my house, I have gone out to eat lunch and now I. am. exhausted.  It's one of those days where you are so tired you can't sleep.  yuck.  Sienna has been sick for a week as well, I knew I shouldn't have kissed her cheek the other day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while I am sitting here vegetating, and coughing and sniffling, I decided to listen to the inauguration speech.  This was the first time I have had a chance to listen to it.  I must say,  I shed a tear or two.  I am so relieved that this country may just catch a break now after 8 long years.  I just hope congress goes along with the plan.  I am excited that we have turned the page and that things will start looking up for us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chanel had been here for a couple of days.  I am always so happy to spend time with her.  She had a job interview here in town and she feels like it went well.  How cool would that be to have her here in town with us?  She said the other day, "Mom, wouldn't it be cool if I could live here in Knoxville and see you everyday?"  To which I said, Weeellll, maybe every other day.  Love her so much but just her presence can be overwhelming sometimes. There's been a problem with her plan to move to California which I can't really go into, but she has decided to stay in Tennessee.  I hope it will turn out to be the right decision.  I think it will.&lt;br /&gt;  We are doing weight watchers together.  She and I and Sienna.  It's so fun having other people to do it with.  Chanel gets pretty obsessive about the diets she goes on and Weight Watchers is no exception.  But I love it.  She definitely keeps me on track and is always wanting to talk about it which keeps me motivated.  Sienna is not so enthusiastic but we are working on her. :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day. Stay healthy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6746218805914111460?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6746218805914111460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6746218805914111460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6746218805914111460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6746218805914111460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-turn.html' title='my turn'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4517308451105461674</id><published>2009-01-11T22:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T22:29:02.539-05:00</updated><title type='text'>some evident progress</title><content type='html'>I was looking back at old blogs today to kind of see my old new year's resolutions and I ran across these pictures.  One is at the end of 2006 and one is at the end of 2008.  I have had a hard time really telling the difference in my weight but looking at these pictures side by side makes me see that I have been making some small progress.  Hopefully at the end of 2009 the changes will be even more significant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWq4bJ0bSyI/AAAAAAAAAhk/TJOAGQYnImI/s1600-h/XmasParty2006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWq4bJ0bSyI/AAAAAAAAAhk/TJOAGQYnImI/s320/XmasParty2006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290243488931859234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWq4yqT-VnI/AAAAAAAAAh0/qO7tl-3X_xg/s1600-h/cruise_dinner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWq4yqT-VnI/AAAAAAAAAh0/qO7tl-3X_xg/s320/cruise_dinner.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290243892791105138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4517308451105461674?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4517308451105461674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4517308451105461674' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4517308451105461674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4517308451105461674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/01/some-evident-progress.html' title='some evident progress'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWq4bJ0bSyI/AAAAAAAAAhk/TJOAGQYnImI/s72-c/XmasParty2006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-7914297272154148170</id><published>2009-01-11T18:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T19:12:37.273-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting go</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWqK4M-6_fI/AAAAAAAAAhc/iDEoR7F0Nmo/s1600-h/IMG_0679.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWqK4M-6_fI/AAAAAAAAAhc/iDEoR7F0Nmo/s320/IMG_0679.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290193410462514674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am getting psychotic.  This whole thing with Chanel has been getting to me.  I'm pretty stressed about it and so I find myself making snide comments on Facebook and on blogs and people are saying things like, "you're losing it".  What the heck am I doing?   Yes, I want to keep her close.   I feel like I can take care of her if she is near me and I don't know Steve from Adam and I am just supposed to trust that he is going to take care of her 2000+ miles away.  It's kind of a hard thing for a mom to swallow.  I am very close to my girls and when you mess with what we have, well, I come out fighting.  okay, so that's psychotic? Seems pretty normal to me, though others don't think so.   I'm just a little resentful, can you tell? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I can either start myself on Haldol or chill out.  She obviously is in love with him and he is with her.  She wants to be with him, though I see her struggling with the idea of leaving here.   Ideally, he would come here, but it's doubtful that will happen.  He has his life there.  So, I just have to trust that they are doing the right thing.  That God will take care of her.  It's been tough these last few days, seeing her struggling, trying to make her way.  I just have to let go.  And that is very tough for me.  It will not do her any good seeing me turn into an idiot, so I am just going to chill about it.  I am just going to be happy that she is making her own way and having her own adventures with her life partner. And then, I will step up my visits to my therapist. lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-7914297272154148170?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/7914297272154148170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=7914297272154148170' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7914297272154148170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7914297272154148170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/01/letting-go.html' title='Letting go'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWqK4M-6_fI/AAAAAAAAAhc/iDEoR7F0Nmo/s72-c/IMG_0679.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1235960500322352674</id><published>2009-01-08T19:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T20:19:41.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Betrayed!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWaguEFASQI/AAAAAAAAAhU/eEzPu3uLhws/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 106px; height: 79px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWaguEFASQI/AAAAAAAAAhU/eEzPu3uLhws/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289091525622384898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just say how devastating it is knowing that my 3 best friends and their husbands are not supportive of my favorite team's bid for the National Championship.  ugh.  It just gives me a sick feeling in my stomach.   I mean how could you not support the Gators when you know I am so passionate about them. I feel so betrayed by all of you. You should be ashamed.  All of you.  You know who you are.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to kick Oklahoma's ass! So there, Seriously.  :) (Smiley face in case you did take me seriously. )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1235960500322352674?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1235960500322352674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1235960500322352674' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1235960500322352674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1235960500322352674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/01/betrayed.html' title='Betrayed!'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWaguEFASQI/AAAAAAAAAhU/eEzPu3uLhws/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4918273359941987546</id><published>2009-01-05T13:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T13:41:04.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, vacation's over</title><content type='html'>Today will be the beginning of getting back into the regularity of life.  Over the last month and a half, we have been celebrating the holidays, taking vacations and not working much.  Today all that ends.  It will be April before I have any more time off and the thought of that is a bit depressing.  Its cold and rainy here and can I just say, I hate the winter time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chanel is still in California.  I'm not happy with the idea of her living out there.  I guess she just has to do what she has to do.  I try not to say too much about it.  I just want her to be happy and if this is what makes her happy, so be it. &lt;br /&gt;Sienna starts school next week.  I am so glad she is going back to school.  She just had to take some time off to get her head together and she has decided that school would be the best thing for her.  She called me today to tell me that they have laid everyone in her department off except for 2 people. She is one of the two.  She's pretty worried about her job.  I keep telling her though, that it's just something she has no control over.  No sense in worrying herself sick over it.   She just needs to have good job performance as that is the only thing she has control over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got the results from my mammogram today and it showed some abnormalities compared to my last one.  It's probably nothing but it's worrisome just the same. I have been putting off calling them all day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to get my eating under control.  I've gained about 6 pounds since Thanksgiving and it weighs on me everyday.  It's always in the back of my mind, yet, i keep eating.  So, now that vacations are over and I can be in some sort of routine, I am going to get on it and do better.  I plan to work out 6 days a week and also to do Weight Watchers.  I am going to get this weight off.  My first goal is just 20 pounds,  20 pounds isn't that much.  I can do it.  Starting now. Rick is going to do it with me.&lt;br /&gt;This is the two of us now.  I will post another pic a month from now.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWJUDUEj9VI/AAAAAAAAAhM/iKknz5VfgBE/s1600-h/IMG_0119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWJUDUEj9VI/AAAAAAAAAhM/iKknz5VfgBE/s320/IMG_0119.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287881328390567250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4918273359941987546?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4918273359941987546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4918273359941987546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4918273359941987546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4918273359941987546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/01/well-vacations-over.html' title='Well, vacation&apos;s over'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWJUDUEj9VI/AAAAAAAAAhM/iKknz5VfgBE/s72-c/IMG_0119.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-9016368586895937604</id><published>2009-01-03T20:39:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T21:43:20.408-05:00</updated><title type='text'>most embarrassing moment</title><content type='html'>I've been here in Florida for the last 3 days.  The weather has been wonderful.  The coolest day we've had was 68 degrees. Nice.&lt;br /&gt;Sienna and I are here visiting my mom and dad.  We've had a good time so far.  There have been a couple of touch and go situations but we've all come out of it okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have a funny story to tell you.  Friday, Sienna wanted to go visit her other grandparents for a while.  Her dad, my ex and his wife were down here visiting so she wanted to go over there while Danny was here.  So she did.  That was the first night we were here. I stayed at my mom's and then came back here to the hotel around 9.  It was very nice being here in the room by myself to sort of decompress after our visit.   Sienna called about 9:30 and said they were on their way back.  Her grandparents live about 30 minutes from here. So, its been a long day and I wanted to relax in a hot shower before Sienna got here.  That's what I did. Felt so good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the shower, I just put on my PJs, it was just going to be us girls, and put my hair up in a towel and sat here playing on the computer.  She called when she got here and I told her which room # and since we are just around the corner from the front desk, I stuck my head out the door so she would find me.  So here she comes around the corner and I said, Yay you're back and then her dad walks around the corner.  That was bad enough but, I figured, heck, he's seen me naked before so no big deal, but then, around the corner is my ex-father-in-law.  Picture this, me, my hair in a towel, no make-up, tight pajamas, no bra. I am very big breasted, and it was obvious that I had no bra on. I did not bring a robe, it was just us girls.  Now, that's not bad enough.  Danny's step dad is VERY conservative and Very religious.  And then I had to hug him.  ugh.  So I'm very self conscious about this whole situation and here we all are out in the hotel hallway, (they wouldn't come into the room) and all I can think about is my boobs.  So, I begin trying to cover myself with my arms, Sienna now tells me that made it look even more obvious. And, Danny, being that he knows me so well, knows how uncomfortable I am so he starts grinning from ear to ear. That just made it worse.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am telling my mom and dad about it the next morning and explaining that I had to give him a hug and my dad is like "So? You think he's never hugged a woman with no bra on before?"  eeecchhh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Sienna and I and mom went to the beach.  The water was ice cold and it was a little windy but we got some great pictures.  We are headed home tomorrow.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWAh-3Y8P6I/AAAAAAAAAhE/mLOYLf23Ixk/s1600-h/IMG_0254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWAh-3Y8P6I/AAAAAAAAAhE/mLOYLf23Ixk/s320/IMG_0254.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287263326437130146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWAh-ay05YI/AAAAAAAAAg8/FHSsIlCC-O4/s1600-h/IMG_0240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWAh-ay05YI/AAAAAAAAAg8/FHSsIlCC-O4/s320/IMG_0240.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287263318761072002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-9016368586895937604?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/9016368586895937604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=9016368586895937604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/9016368586895937604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/9016368586895937604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2009/01/most-embarrassing-moment.html' title='most embarrassing moment'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SWAh-3Y8P6I/AAAAAAAAAhE/mLOYLf23Ixk/s72-c/IMG_0254.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4702255572520804661</id><published>2008-12-25T22:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T15:16:46.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SVfeplHCyMI/AAAAAAAAAgs/6cFkqI8Snm8/s1600-h/IMG_0130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SVfeplHCyMI/AAAAAAAAAgs/6cFkqI8Snm8/s320/IMG_0130.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284937493660223682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little tearful yesterday. But then Steve texted me and said that Chanel had been upset and that she would call me later. Then I sobbed. I mean, gut wrenching sobs.  Silly, really.  It wasn't so much that I missed her, though of course I do.  It was just that she was upset about not being home with us for Christmas.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, she did call.  She said she had been having a rough time of it.  So much so that they even checked on getting her a flight home yesterday. It was so great to hear her voice. She'll be okay.   She is just such a traditionalist when it comes to the holidays and she wanted to be with us, with the tree and the stockings, and the eggnog and the christmas lights, and A Christmas Story and a nap on my couch.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Rick actually let me sleep in until 8! What a nice way to start Christmas morning! He has continued to spoil me all day.  He is wonderful.  Sienna came over about 11.  Usually, she has to struggle with Chanel to get over here by 1.  They always spend Christmas morning at their dad's with their little brothers. Sienna too was a little tearful over Chanel not being here. She did get to talk to her and I think that made her feel better.  She was thrilled with her loot and I was very excited to see how excited she was.  I love giving my kids gifts!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rick asked me to make him Jambalaya this year for his Christmas lunch.  Weird, right?  Usually we have ham and potatoes etc. But the jambalaya was really good.  It was nice for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played one of Sienna's new games.  Deal or No Deal. Lame. We watched A Christmas Story as per our tradition.  That is the most hilarious christmas movie out there.  I love it.  Sienna, took a nap.  And then it was time to eat again!  Well, Jamablaya is very spicy and a little hard on one's stomach so having it two meals in a row didn't sound very good.  I hadn't actually planned on another meal.  I don't usually cook and we didn't really have much in the house to eat. (Except desserts, we had lots of desserts thanks to Robin's mom).  Well, we looked online to see if there was anywhere open on Christmas day.  The only place we could find open was Waffle House.  I have a newfound love for Waffle House so I was all for that idea!  That's what we did! We went to eat dinner at Waffle House and it was lovely.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we drove around looking at Christmas lights.  I am like a little kid  when it comes to Christmas lights.  I just have so many fond memories of doing that as a kid and as my kids were kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Christmas traditions. Its always fun to reminisce and have that nostalgia feeling but its kind of fun to make new traditions.  I have to be open to the fact that the kids are adults now, making their own way. Things are going to change.  I think I'll just roll with it. Hope you had a great Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4702255572520804661?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4702255572520804661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4702255572520804661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4702255572520804661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4702255572520804661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-day.html' title='Christmas day'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SVfeplHCyMI/AAAAAAAAAgs/6cFkqI8Snm8/s72-c/IMG_0130.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6287207999217445978</id><published>2008-12-24T15:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T15:39:48.829-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>This will be the first Christmas in all of Chanel's life that she will not be home with me.  I guess this is just what kids do.  They grow up and have their own lives and leave a lot of their childhood traditions behind in order to form their own traditions.  Chanel is in California with Steve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think it would bother me that much, but it does.  I'm trying not to be a cry baby about it.  :)  It's just going to be a little weird.  I just miss so many things about Christmastime with Chanel.  Long standing traditions.  Eggnog, the Santa apron, christmas lights at night,  piles of mashed potatoes, tons of silly photos, Christmas stockings. Chanel would rather have a full stocking than any presents. Lots of things I will miss.  I am happy though, that she is navigating her adult life and that she has Steve to form new traditions with but if I have to hear Sienna say one more time that this is going to be a sucky Christmas, I may just have to bite her beautiful head off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So,  we will have a great day tomorrow.  Rick is spoiling me as usual and I love it.  He's been giving me gifts all week.  When I said something about me not having any gifts for Christmas morning because he had already given them all to me.  He said that Christmas morning should be for the kids and that the grown ups should celebrate christmas separately.  To which I said, um, you mean our 20 yr old &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;adult &lt;/span&gt;kid? lol.   They will always be kids to us, I guess.  I even have a few gifts under the tree for her from Santa.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all have a very merry christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6287207999217445978?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6287207999217445978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6287207999217445978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6287207999217445978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6287207999217445978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-271343144565154502</id><published>2008-12-21T19:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T19:24:37.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>overcoming the chaos</title><content type='html'>My life has been in a little bit of disarray lately and a few years ago, that would have been just fine with me.  I used to like chaos, thrive on it even.  But I don't much like it anymore. Now I like for things to be predictable, calm, quiet, relaxed.  I have felt like since thanksgiving, things have been spinning a little out of control.  So, today, I took back control.  I cleaned out my office.  You can always tell how things are going in my life by peeking in my scrapbook room.  It has been a total mess.  Boxes everywhere, wrapping paper, piles of mail and magazines, bags and bags and boxes and boxes of scrapbook stuff I have bought over the last few months.  (One of the things I do to cope with chaos is shop). and now..Ahhhhhh. I feel peace. My scrap table is clean, my floor is vacuumed, everything is labeled and in its place. My magazines have been sorted and filed.  My trash cans are empty.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels so good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to scrapbook.  It is an outlet for me.  It helps to center me.  I haven't been able to do it for the last 2 months or so because I was too overwhelmed with the clutter.  Now, I should be able to spend some time doing one of the things I love doing most.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-271343144565154502?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/271343144565154502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=271343144565154502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/271343144565154502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/271343144565154502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/12/overcoming-chaos.html' title='overcoming the chaos'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6079647826049654370</id><published>2008-12-05T16:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T16:53:11.217-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was in Walmart today picking up some gift cards and I went back to the Christmas card section to get cards to mail the cards in.  Go figure.  I have had every intention to make my Christmas cards again this year but for some reason, the creativity bug hasn't bitten me yet.  So, I'm going to buy a few cards.   I was just sort of browsing through the cards when I came across this card for a husband. I just had to get it because it made me cry.  The sentiment goes like this: Loving you &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     brings a smile to my lips,&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     hope to my heart,&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      and joy to my life.&lt;br /&gt;and on the inside it says :                              Loving you is like Christmas 365 days  a year.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                          Merry Christmas from your one and only.  &lt;br /&gt;Awwwwwww.  How sweet!!  I bought it for Rick and though he is not an emotional kind of guy, I bet he will cry when he reads it too!&lt;br /&gt;That is so totally how I feel.  My days are filled with joy and laughter and that is thanks to me having my very own jolly santa claus!  I'm a very lucky girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6079647826049654370?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6079647826049654370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6079647826049654370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6079647826049654370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6079647826049654370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-was-in-walmart-today-picking-up-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4965148730664176068</id><published>2008-11-26T21:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T22:03:27.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay just real briefly.  Tomorrow is thanksgiving and I am oh so thankful.  Thankful most of all for those that love me, you know who you are  :)  Sometimes, I'm not easy to love and I"m not a religious sort of gal, but I thank my God everyday that there are people who love me for who I am.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My darling eldest daughter brought me flowers today just because she loves me and appreciates me.  She also brought me a card that brought tears to my eyes.  Very special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so happy to be able to spend the weekend with my girls.  I am thrilled to be able to go shopping on Friday!  Love Black Friday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anyway, I'm a little short on time tonight but I hope all of you have a wonderful, happy day tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4965148730664176068?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4965148730664176068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4965148730664176068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4965148730664176068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4965148730664176068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/11/okay-just-real-briefly.html' title=''/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5885217178449248525</id><published>2008-11-21T14:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T15:11:15.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The total package</title><content type='html'>I had breakfast with a friend today and she said something to me that will probably stick with me for a long time.  Again, I was pissin' and moanin' about my weight and various diets etc etc.  I know my friends get tired of hearing about it but I still go on. &lt;br /&gt;lol.  And then my friend said, "You know, there's so much more to you than the way your body looks. No one even notices that you are a little overweight. You just need to chill about it."  And I thought, Yes! you are so right!   I am healthy. I feel good. I can wear regular clothes.  I can walk the 5 K without getting tired. My husband thinks I'm a knockout.  I am smart. I am happy and people love me.  Honestly, now that I think about it..I am the total package. :)   Now, someone please remind me of that in a month when I am back from my cruise and 5 pounds heavier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited about Thanksgiving.  We had originally planned a nice quiet day watching football.  But now we are spending it with friends and we are so happy to do so! My girls will both be with me.  We have planned to shop til we drop.  We are going to the Fantasy of Trees and to a christmas festival downtown.  We are going to Dollywood one night.  It will be a great time! It will be a great way to kick off the holiday season!  I am going to try to focus, this year, on doing  things together with family and friends during the month of December.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We leave for our cruise in exactly 2 weeks.  Bright sunshine and sandy beaches, here we come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5885217178449248525?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5885217178449248525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5885217178449248525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5885217178449248525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5885217178449248525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/11/total-package.html' title='The total package'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6254368045554296717</id><published>2008-11-07T20:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T09:55:52.174-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes we did</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SRTvKwULuTI/AAAAAAAAAgk/Cj03TSTz9T8/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 109px; height: 129px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SRTvKwULuTI/AAAAAAAAAgk/Cj03TSTz9T8/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266096832350239026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this day- in this moment-&lt;br /&gt;Let us reach for what we know is possible.&lt;br /&gt;A Nation Healed.&lt;br /&gt;A world repaired.&lt;br /&gt;An America that believes again.--Barack Obama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes we did.  I am so happy and relieved that Obama won the election.  And as cliche' as it may be, we, as a country, can finally have hope again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6254368045554296717?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6254368045554296717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6254368045554296717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6254368045554296717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6254368045554296717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/11/yes-we-did.html' title='Yes we did'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SRTvKwULuTI/AAAAAAAAAgk/Cj03TSTz9T8/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5640990925777888583</id><published>2008-11-03T13:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T13:10:27.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a few reasons why I am voting for Obama</title><content type='html'>He is intelligent enough to surround himself with smart, capable people.  Though he doesn't have much Foreign Policy experience, he chose Joe Biden, who does, as his running mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not want Sarah Palin as president should anything happen to McCain.  She is an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that all children should have healthcare.  Barack will make that happen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that he is so passionate about insurers not being able to deny coverage because of pre-existing conditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next president will have the opportunity to appoint supreme court justices.  I think we have a few too many socially conservative judges on the court already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe Barack will get us out of Iraq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that Barack will bring respect from other countries back to our nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I totally disagree with the whole "Drill, baby, drill" philosophy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our economy is in the toilet.  I would prefer not to have a Republican at the helm any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that a woman should have the right to choose about abortion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many more things that I don't have time to write about now.  But I just want you to think about your reasons for voting for the candidate of your choice.  I believe with all my heart that my choice will be the right one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, GO VOTE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5640990925777888583?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5640990925777888583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5640990925777888583' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5640990925777888583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5640990925777888583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/11/just-few-reasons-why-i-am-voting-for.html' title='Just a few reasons why I am voting for Obama'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2958985121841903054</id><published>2008-10-26T15:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T11:50:35.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>its sad to be home</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SQTGe6tKxZI/AAAAAAAAAgc/yvrDezGstdU/s1600-h/IMG_0184.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SQTGe6tKxZI/AAAAAAAAAgc/yvrDezGstdU/s320/IMG_0184.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261548499132663186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it weird for me to not want to come home from a vacation?  I mean, Rick's favorite part of a vacation is coming home and sleeping in his own bed.  My favorite part about a vacation is waking up somewhere and thinking, wow, I don't have to go home for 7 whole days!  I love vacation.  I love to take a lot of vacations and I am fortunate in my life now to be able to do just that.  But I never want to come home.  I have a great home.  My friends are here, my girls.  But so is my job and I am seriously hating my job these last few months.   Hating it. Seriously.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disney was wonderful as always.  Everything went pretty much perfectly.  You've all heard it all before so there is no sense in me going on about Disney.  Just know that it was wonderful. The weather was perfect the entire week.  It only rained yesterday. And finally, for the first time ever, I got to meet Daisy and Donald Duck!  Rick thinks I am ridiculous for wanting to meet all of these characters.  He drew the line this trip and refused to stand in about a 40 person line at the character spot so I could meet Minnie.  He indulges me so often, so when he says no, I know he really means no and I don't generally push it.     We bought annual passes this time and we are planning to go again for 2 weeks in April.   My husband spoils me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to visit with my mom and dad.  They are always disappointed that we don't stay longer and sometimes I wish that we could.  This time it would have been hard to stay longer.  Everyone knows that I am a die-hard Obama fan.  Everyone, of course, except my dad, who, it turns out, is a die-hard McCain fan.  I'm not sure when this happened because my dad has always been a democrat.  But it seems that he spends all of his days now listening to religious right-wing talk radio and he has become quite the extremist.  He seems convinced that Obama will get assassinated and that will leave Biden in charge and then we will have Armageddon.  WHAT?!  He would much rather have Sarah Palin in charge than anybody because she is going to shake up washington, and she is a mom and a christian all rolled up in one. Oh my goodness. He actually said that the ideal ticket would have been a Palin/Powell ticket.  That was of course, before Colin Powell defected to the Obama side. My dad is so disappointed that Powell could show support for a muslim.   So, staying at my mom and dad's any longer this time would have been very hard indeed.  There is no debate with my dad.  Its his way or the highway and its just easier to agree with him.  But with this election, I feel so passionate about Barack Obama that it would have just resulted in something not good if we had stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2958985121841903054?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2958985121841903054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2958985121841903054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2958985121841903054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2958985121841903054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/10/its-sad-to-be-home.html' title='its sad to be home'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SQTGe6tKxZI/AAAAAAAAAgc/yvrDezGstdU/s72-c/IMG_0184.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2316482395074274685</id><published>2008-10-12T18:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T18:40:29.342-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Race for the Cure</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SPJ4MYTecOI/AAAAAAAAAXA/nfwRDbkkTLI/s1600-h/IMG_0118.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SPJ4MYTecOI/AAAAAAAAAXA/nfwRDbkkTLI/s320/IMG_0118.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256395869172691170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me at 7 am before coffee and before makeup.  eech. We walked for the Race for the Cure on Saturday.  I bet there were at least 10,000 people there! You can see from this picture how many were ahead of us and there were just as many behind us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SPJ4pxP3QRI/AAAAAAAAAXI/dPl05auO3po/s1600-h/IMG_0127.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SPJ4pxP3QRI/AAAAAAAAAXI/dPl05auO3po/s320/IMG_0127.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256396374084632850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I went with my friends Christy and Shara.  It was a beautiful day for a walk.  The race was 5K or about 3 miles.  There were bands playing, singers singing, cheerleaders cheering all along the way.  They were all definitely very motivating.  I didn't whine one time but at one point, I saw a sign that said 1 mile and I was like, Surely that means we only have one mile to go, right?  Nope.  We had only walked one mile.  But it was so crowded at first that we were moving very slowly for the first mile and it seemed to take forever. The last 2 miles went much faster because the crowds thinned out.  It was a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am back to normal now with my moods.  I feel great.  I so can appreciate my good moods now.   I will not let Dr. Jobson mess with my medicine again unless I am already doing poorly..never again when I am doing fine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are planning our 25th High School Reunion for June.  It is so hard to believe that it has been 25yrs since I graduated high school.  I mean, 25 yrs?  wow.  So I've gotten in touch with a lot of old classmates.  Some of them look just the same.  Others look so different.  Everyone recognizes me of course because of my red hair.  Its strange though, I really don't have a lot of memories from high school.  I mean, I recognize the people of course, but actual events, I don't really remember.  I don't know if that's normal or not, but that's how it is for me.  It makes me a little sad. But, my memory for everything is abnormally bad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are leaving for Disney on Thursday.  It will be a much needed break for us.  Rick is working at least 60 hour weeks. I have been working more and am totally stressed out since Julie left.  Much needed break.  I plan on eating a lot, sleeping a lot, lying by the pool a lot and meeting Donald Duck for the first time ever. Woohoo!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a happy week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2316482395074274685?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2316482395074274685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2316482395074274685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2316482395074274685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2316482395074274685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/10/race-for-cure.html' title='The Race for the Cure'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SPJ4MYTecOI/AAAAAAAAAXA/nfwRDbkkTLI/s72-c/IMG_0118.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-9095748982930176440</id><published>2008-10-04T09:35:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T21:29:27.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here are a few layouts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SOdxTSMqjRI/AAAAAAAAAWg/7FNGbUMSgBw/s1600-h/IMG_1762.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SOdxTSMqjRI/AAAAAAAAAWg/7FNGbUMSgBw/s320/IMG_1762.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253292066467384594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"His name was Kenny and I swore I was going to marry him."  My First Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SOdxoM_HXZI/AAAAAAAAAWo/LNAWU1CwLOA/s1600-h/IMG_1766.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SOdxoM_HXZI/AAAAAAAAAWo/LNAWU1CwLOA/s320/IMG_1766.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253292425845628306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always believed it was fate that Rick and I got together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SOdx4im5aBI/AAAAAAAAAWw/8v3u84QC_wU/s1600-h/IMG_1772.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SOdx4im5aBI/AAAAAAAAAWw/8v3u84QC_wU/s320/IMG_1772.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253292706527537170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The journaling reads: " I would follow him to the ends of the earth and back again.  He helps me find my way when I get lost...and I need him more than he'll ever know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SOd0Oki5D3I/AAAAAAAAAW4/dbegKxJjzXY/s1600-h/IMG_1773.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SOd0Oki5D3I/AAAAAAAAAW4/dbegKxJjzXY/s320/IMG_1773.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253295284027985778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was from our trip to Arizona in May. My Aunt Karla, Aunt Pam and my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These were not totally my creations I got the ideas for a couple of them from  other talented scrappers. But I think they turned out beautifully.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-9095748982930176440?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/9095748982930176440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=9095748982930176440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/9095748982930176440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/9095748982930176440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/10/here-are-few-layouts.html' title='Here are a few layouts'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SOdxTSMqjRI/AAAAAAAAAWg/7FNGbUMSgBw/s72-c/IMG_1762.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-677039134473950076</id><published>2008-09-28T15:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T15:29:43.429-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On my way back</title><content type='html'>I am feeling much more like myself in the last 2 days.  Falling into the hole called depression is a scary thing.  I know how deep the hole goes and I do not want to go there.  I typically have mood cycles about every 1-2 months.  This time was more frightening to me than any I've had in a long time. It wasn't just the sadness this time, it was also the anger.  I was so afraid that things would not get better before our vacation, I have ruined several vacations because of my mood,so  I called my Dr. on Friday and begged him to help me.  Its rare that I ask for help so that should tell you something right there.  So, now, true to form, I am cycling back out of it and I suspect in another day or two, I'll be fine.  I'm still kind of tired, (but can't sleep),but it will normalize soon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so proud of Sienna.  She has started going to a church, on her own.  Most of you know how I feel about church and I am not one to encourage others to go but I did encourage her to go and she did.  She just seems so unhappy these days.  She was happiest when she was going to church so I figured, why not?  So she went and has been about 3 times, she has participated in other activities with the groups and this weekend, she went on a retreat with them.  She had a great time and I am so glad.  I hope that she can begin  to socialize more and find friends to hang out with so she can get her mind off of Pedro.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am scrapping photos of my childhood today.  Its fun to reminisce over childhood vacations and such.  I have been a vacation girl since I was little.  I'll have to post some of the layouts when I am finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-677039134473950076?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/677039134473950076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=677039134473950076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/677039134473950076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/677039134473950076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-my-way-back.html' title='On my way back'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2923657709317123234</id><published>2008-09-26T08:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T22:33:47.017-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On a much lighter note</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SNzax0q7qRI/AAAAAAAAAWY/T4sCq8Ozxsk/s1600-h/IMG_1711.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SNzax0q7qRI/AAAAAAAAAWY/T4sCq8Ozxsk/s320/IMG_1711.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250311815094315282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We leave for Disney in 20 days!  I hope I can pull myself out of this slump by then.  20 days!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2923657709317123234?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2923657709317123234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2923657709317123234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2923657709317123234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2923657709317123234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/09/om-much-lighter-note.html' title='On a much lighter note'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SNzax0q7qRI/AAAAAAAAAWY/T4sCq8Ozxsk/s72-c/IMG_1711.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1482905844959227411</id><published>2008-09-25T21:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T21:35:03.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Hear What I'm Not Saying</title><content type='html'>I've been sort of down lately.  There's a lot of work stress going on and Dr. Jobson is decreasing my medicine, so it's been difficult.  When I get into melancholy moods, I like to look through old journals and sort of reminisce.  It's helpful sometimes to get some perspective.  Things could be a lot worse.   I ran across this poem that I used to love. I first read this poem when I was 13 and I have kept it all these years.  It really speaks to me as I'm sure it will to you. I'm fine, at least pretty fine. I just think its important for every empathetic friend, sister, mother, husband, daughter to really be aware that sometimes things are not always what they seem.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please Hear What I'm Not Saying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               Don't be fooled by me.&lt;br /&gt;               Don't be fooled by the face I wear&lt;br /&gt;               for I wear a mask, a thousand masks,&lt;br /&gt;               masks that I'm afraid to take off,&lt;br /&gt;               and none of them is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               Pretending is an art that's second nature with me,&lt;br /&gt;               but don't be fooled,&lt;br /&gt;               for God's sake don't be fooled.&lt;br /&gt;               I give you the impression that I'm secure,&lt;br /&gt;               that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well&lt;br /&gt;                    as without,&lt;br /&gt;               that confidence is my name and coolness my game,&lt;br /&gt;               that the water's calm and I'm in command&lt;br /&gt;               and that I need no one,&lt;br /&gt;               but don't believe me.&lt;br /&gt;               My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask,&lt;br /&gt;               ever-varying and ever-concealing.&lt;br /&gt;               Beneath lies no complacence.&lt;br /&gt;               Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness.&lt;br /&gt;               But I hide this.  I don't want anybody to know it.&lt;br /&gt;               I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed.&lt;br /&gt;               That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,&lt;br /&gt;               a nonchalant sophisticated facade,&lt;br /&gt;               to help me pretend,&lt;br /&gt;               to shield me from the glance that knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope,&lt;br /&gt;               and I know it.&lt;br /&gt;               That is, if it's followed by acceptance,&lt;br /&gt;               if it's followed by love.&lt;br /&gt;               It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself,&lt;br /&gt;               from my own self-built prison walls,&lt;br /&gt;               from the barriers I so painstakingly erect.&lt;br /&gt;               It's the only thing that will assure me&lt;br /&gt;               of what I can't assure myself,&lt;br /&gt;               that I'm really worth something.&lt;br /&gt;               But I don't tell you this.  I don't dare to, I'm afraid to.&lt;br /&gt;               I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance,&lt;br /&gt;               will not be followed by love.&lt;br /&gt;               I'm afraid you'll think less of me,&lt;br /&gt;               that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me.&lt;br /&gt;               I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing&lt;br /&gt;               and that you will see this and reject me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,&lt;br /&gt;               with a facade of assurance without&lt;br /&gt;               and a trembling child within.&lt;br /&gt;               So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks,&lt;br /&gt;               and my life becomes a front.&lt;br /&gt;                     I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk.&lt;br /&gt;               I tell you everything that's really nothing,&lt;br /&gt;               and nothing of what's everything,&lt;br /&gt;               of what's crying within me.&lt;br /&gt;               So when I'm going through my routine&lt;br /&gt;               do not be fooled by what I'm saying.&lt;br /&gt;               Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying,&lt;br /&gt;               what I'd like to be able to say,&lt;br /&gt;               what for survival I need to say,&lt;br /&gt;               but what I can't say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               I don't like hiding.&lt;br /&gt;               I don't like playing superficial phony games.&lt;br /&gt;               I want to stop playing them.&lt;br /&gt;               I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me&lt;br /&gt;               but you've got to help me.&lt;br /&gt;               You've got to hold out your hand&lt;br /&gt;               even when that's the last thing I seem to want.&lt;br /&gt;               Only you can wipe away from my eyes&lt;br /&gt;               the blank stare of the breathing dead.&lt;br /&gt;               Only you can call me into aliveness.&lt;br /&gt;               Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging,&lt;br /&gt;               each time you try to understand because you really care,&lt;br /&gt;               my heart begins to grow wings--&lt;br /&gt;               very small wings,&lt;br /&gt;               very feeble wings,&lt;br /&gt;               but wings!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               With your power to touch me into feeling&lt;br /&gt;               you can breathe life into me.&lt;br /&gt;               I want you to know that.&lt;br /&gt;               I want you to know how important you are to me,&lt;br /&gt;               how you can be a creator--an honest-to-God creator--&lt;br /&gt;               of the person that is me&lt;br /&gt;               if you choose to.&lt;br /&gt;               You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble,&lt;br /&gt;               you alone can remove my mask,&lt;br /&gt;               you alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic,&lt;br /&gt;               from my lonely prison,&lt;br /&gt;               if you choose to.&lt;br /&gt;               Please choose to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               Do not pass me by.&lt;br /&gt;               It will not be easy for you.&lt;br /&gt;               A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.&lt;br /&gt;               The nearer you approach to me&lt;br /&gt;               the blinder I may strike back.&lt;br /&gt;               It's irrational, but despite what the books say about man&lt;br /&gt;               often I am irrational.&lt;br /&gt;               I fight against the very thing I cry out for.&lt;br /&gt;               But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls&lt;br /&gt;               and in this lies my hope.&lt;br /&gt;               Please try to beat down those walls&lt;br /&gt;               with firm hands but with gentle hands&lt;br /&gt;               for a child is very sensitive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               Who am I, you may wonder?&lt;br /&gt;               I am someone you know very well.&lt;br /&gt;               For I am every man you meet&lt;br /&gt;               and I am every woman you meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                     Charles C. Finn&lt;br /&gt;                                                                          September 1966&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1482905844959227411?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1482905844959227411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1482905844959227411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1482905844959227411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1482905844959227411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/09/please-hear-what-im-not-saying.html' title='Please Hear What I&apos;m Not Saying'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-843191869796968045</id><published>2008-09-20T21:20:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T11:54:26.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random things about me</title><content type='html'>I mop the bathroom with my foot&lt;br /&gt;I cheated my way through calculus&lt;br /&gt;I graduated in the top 10% in my high school class &lt;br /&gt;I had a 3.717 gpa when I graduated college, and that with clinicals, working full time and raising 2 kids&lt;br /&gt;I learned to drive a stick shift in my friend's MG&lt;br /&gt;I've had two dryers full of clothes stolen from a laundromat when I was 18&lt;br /&gt;I have a little bunny that sits on my desk that says "somebunny loves you" when I squeeze him&lt;br /&gt;I have taken fiddle lessons&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I sing Delta Dawn at the top of my lungs in my car&lt;br /&gt;I have 4 1/2 siblings, 3 of whom I have never met.  &lt;br /&gt;I have only communicated with my real dad 1 time and that was when I was 21&lt;br /&gt;There have been 2  times when I have seriously made plans to run away forever&lt;br /&gt;I have been to Craters of the Moon National Park&lt;br /&gt;I have been to Yellowstone and Mt. Rushmore twice&lt;br /&gt;I used to sing in the choir in school.&lt;br /&gt;I used to be a great fisherman&lt;br /&gt;My favorite pet was named Soup&lt;br /&gt;I got married the first time in my Aunt's wedding dress&lt;br /&gt;I used to lay out on my parents' roof smeared in butter, trying to get a tan&lt;br /&gt;I sleep on my stomach&lt;br /&gt;I have been held at gunpoint when I was 18 by a cocaine addict&lt;br /&gt;My favorite movies are Gone with the wind and the Wizard of Oz&lt;br /&gt;I had my first real kiss when I was 11 from a boy named Tim Bowers&lt;br /&gt;I once won $200 at Bingo&lt;br /&gt;I have hiked to Mt LeConte&lt;br /&gt;I have always wanted green eyes&lt;br /&gt;I love love love Bluegrass music.&lt;br /&gt;I would do anything to protect my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few random thoughts.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day tomorrow. We are going to Dollywood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and GO GATORS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-843191869796968045?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/843191869796968045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=843191869796968045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/843191869796968045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/843191869796968045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/09/random-things-about-me.html' title='Random things about me'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6334180058047502081</id><published>2008-09-19T16:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T17:00:21.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'>work stuff that is really bringing me down</title><content type='html'>Our days have been miserable at work since Julie left.  We had hired a lady  to work with Dr. W when B went on maternity leave with the understanding that she would come and work with us when B got back.  She interviewed well and she really seemed like a nice fit for our practice.  Well, Dr. W and Dr. R (the Dr. I work for) used to be married.  Dr. W's best friend works with her.  So, the whole 6 weeks that the new girl, P, was working for Dr W, she heard all kinds of negative stuff about Dr. R  from Dr W and Dr W's best friend, which did not bode well for us.  She got along great with Dr. W's staff and they loved her.  But with us, she was totally negative all the time.  Always complaining about something, always tired. Threatening to go to the labor board once.  She would not listen whenever we tried to teach her.  She rolled her eyes.  She copped an attitude with the Dr. She was mean to the patients.  One patient's mom kicked her out of the room and demanded to see me because P  was being a bitch to her.  She threw a major temper tantrum in front of one of our new patients.  It was miserable.  So, they decided they were going to fire her today but yesterday after we all had left, she turned in her resignation.  I guess she could see the handwriting on the wall.  But, get this.  She told our Practice Administrator that SHE  couldn't work with US!  That we were too clique-ish and we kept pushing her away.  Which is not true really.  We were really trying.  We don't want to be a nurse short.  It's hell trying to work a 3 nurse schedule with just 2 nurses.  We were trying to figure out what could be done so that she would do better and not be so angry.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, the PA came to us and said, this is what P said and we just can't have this.  "You can't just run people off because your personalities don't mesh.  I don't want this to happen again."  The kicker is, he KNEW how she was behaving but then he gets on to us for running her off.  And yes, if our personalities don't mesh, we probably won't be able to work with her.  We work in a very close, intimate environment.  Everyone needs to be able to get along.  So we pointed this out to him.  It just irks me that he was so quick to blame us.   Christy, Julie R, Dr R and I do have a tight bond and yes, it will be hard for someone to step into Julie M's shoes.  But not if they are  willing to have a good attitude and give us a chance. (and be nice to our patients). I think the worst thing that happened in all of this is having P work with Dr W before she worked with us.  They contaminated her mind with all of their negativity and I think that is very very sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now we will have to work a 3 nurse schedule with 2 nurses.  We will get behind and the patients will get mad because we are behind.  Which will be miserable because when the patients are angry, it's harder to have short appts. with them.  They figure since they've been waiting so long, they should have more of our time and it just becomes a perpetual problem.  We have got to find a nurse  fast but we don't want to jump into anything too quickly  and make a bad choice.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am planning on going to Disney in 28 days.  If we don't find another nurse soon, I will not be able to go.  I'm very worried about that.  So, we will just see what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6334180058047502081?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6334180058047502081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6334180058047502081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6334180058047502081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6334180058047502081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/09/work-stuff-that-is-really-bringing-me.html' title='work stuff that is really bringing me down'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-8761637581806515137</id><published>2008-08-31T16:42:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T17:14:36.819-04:00</updated><title type='text'>great news</title><content type='html'>I've not been very good at keeping up with this thing. Sorry.  Now, there have been so many things happen this past week that its hard for me to remember it all.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SLsHPmH-mEI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hEnQf0eywag/s1600-h/IMG_0100.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SLsHPmH-mEI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hEnQf0eywag/s320/IMG_0100.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240790555889145922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SLsHbdxHtUI/AAAAAAAAAVw/-dmQzkU_wMI/s1600-h/IMG_0101.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SLsHbdxHtUI/AAAAAAAAAVw/-dmQzkU_wMI/s320/IMG_0101.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240790759804220738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have continued on the raw food thing and have lost some weight. Here are pics of our "raw" lunch when I went to visit Chanel last weekend. My only slips have been Fuji's ( I can't help it.  It wasn't my idea to go there but since we all did, well, there is just no way I can resist the temptation. )  and last night we had friends over and they wanted pizza.  I was just going to have salad, but the dressing I bought was gross and that sort of ruined it for me. At least I didn't eat a lot of pizza.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SLsHvLUKpII/AAAAAAAAAV4/QBTwaAQtuuk/s1600-h/IMG_0113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SLsHvLUKpII/AAAAAAAAAV4/QBTwaAQtuuk/s320/IMG_0113.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240791098448323714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Julie had her last day at work on Thursday.  I will miss her so much.  I will miss our foursome.  The four of us, Julie, Julie , Christy and me all have a great bond.  We know what each other is thinking. We finish each other's sentences. We know when the other is in a bad mood without anything being said. We have laughed together and cried together.  We have been drunk together and have been gluttons together.  Now, there is another nurse that will be stepping in to Julie's role and well, I'm just not sure how that's going to work but I'm trying to have a positive attitude about it. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SLsJfPn0V0I/AAAAAAAAAWA/SdZYPAh1sbo/s1600-h/IMG_1066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SLsJfPn0V0I/AAAAAAAAAWA/SdZYPAh1sbo/s320/IMG_1066.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240793023749838658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the best news of all!  We are going to Disney World again in October! woohoo!  I am so excited. I've been to Disney World so many times I've lost count and you would think I would know all I need to know about it.  But, part of the thrill for me is the planning and this is what I have been doing today.  I love it.  There is always something new to do, some different place to eat, some fresh shows to see. Love it.  AND we have decided to buy an annual pass, so, that means we can go however many times we want over the next year.  We are even thinking about going for Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-8761637581806515137?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/8761637581806515137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=8761637581806515137' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8761637581806515137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8761637581806515137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/08/great-news.html' title='great news'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SLsHPmH-mEI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hEnQf0eywag/s72-c/IMG_0100.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-7182585159540568658</id><published>2008-08-22T15:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T15:50:18.519-04:00</updated><title type='text'>tidbits of my week</title><content type='html'>On Monday I started a 30 day trial of the raw food diet.  That's where you don't eat any cooked food and you eat all fruits and vegetables and raw nuts.  My dieting buddy is now back from Belgium and here we go again.  I must say, I really like it.  I feel good and I love fruits and veges anyway.  We are supposed to be giving up caffeine, which I haven't completely done, I'm afraid of the withdrawal. But other than that, I've pretty much stuck with it.  I have done very well losing weight this week.  Chanel has too. Yay for us!  But that's enough about that. I made a resolution that I wouldn't talk so much about my weight and dieting on my blog this year. So, I'll stop now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been feeling well this week.  I don't think its related to the diet.  I've had lots of stomach pain, but its really come and gone since spring, not just since I started Raw Food.   The doctors never really seem to know what is wrong and I'm tired of all the tests and things that they do so I don't want to go back to the Dr. But, I'm going on Monday.  It just doesn't seem to be letting up, so I guess I'll go. Its funny sort of, but I am going with Sienna to her Dr. appt on Monday too for stomach pain.  Wonder if its genetic? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my closest friends, Julie, who I have known for 16 years, is leaving to go to another job next week.  I will miss her terribly. When she told me she was leaving, I literally lost my breath but regained it quickly because one needs to breathe in order to cry. We have worked together for a long time and it brings tears to my eyes when I even think about not seeing her sitting next to me everyday. I think she will really like her new job,but its hard to feel happy for her when I am so busy feeling sorry for myself. I need to work on that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a busy weekend planned. Saturday,  I will be scrapping all day at Scrapbooks &amp; More. I love doing that!  Then Sunday, we are going to see Chanel and her new apartment.  I'll let you know how all that goes.  Oh, by the way, be watching to see who will be our next Vice President of the United States this weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-7182585159540568658?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/7182585159540568658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=7182585159540568658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7182585159540568658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7182585159540568658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/08/tidbits-of-my-week.html' title='tidbits of my week'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1378907313908009492</id><published>2008-08-17T13:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T13:46:40.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>my baby picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SKhjc290B_I/AAAAAAAAAVg/XsQUjfXLwf0/s1600-h/SCAN_0018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SKhjc290B_I/AAAAAAAAAVg/XsQUjfXLwf0/s320/SCAN_0018.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235543914260465650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to share this adorable photo with you.(if you cover up the hair, you can definately see Chanel and Sienna).  I guess I was about a yr. old in this photo.  This was one of the many treasures I brought back to Tennessee with me from Michigan.  It was amazing to  hear about all the stories of how everyone took such good care of me when I was young.  I was the first grandchild and therefore, everyone's doll baby.  We just had such a good time looking at old pictures and reminiscing about things I don't remember.  It was kind of cute how my aunts would say, Don't you remember...?" and I would have no recollection of whatever they were talking about but it was fun to hear, just the same.  My mom doesn't really talk about my childhood much so its great for me to hear stories from my aunt.  I brought home tons of pictures, even some of the rare ones of my grandma and grandpa, and soon as I get them scanned in to my computer, I plan to scrap them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you're having a great weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1378907313908009492?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1378907313908009492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1378907313908009492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1378907313908009492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1378907313908009492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-baby-picture.html' title='my baby picture'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SKhjc290B_I/AAAAAAAAAVg/XsQUjfXLwf0/s72-c/SCAN_0018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-8988777289552390025</id><published>2008-08-10T08:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T08:51:07.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ7kZVRWfsI/AAAAAAAAAVY/IjA3kr_L9SI/s1600-h/IMG_1714_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ7kZVRWfsI/AAAAAAAAAVY/IjA3kr_L9SI/s320/IMG_1714_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232870940908879554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to me.  I scrapped my last entry in case there were those of you who had already read it.  I've decided to be a little more positive and to not sound so whiny in this entry.  When I entered my 40s, I was a little down about it.  I am not too keen on aging. But when I went to Michigan and saw some of my aunts who are all over 50 I was encouraged because they look fabulous.  So, now I know I have good genes.  I'm counting on looking fabulous myself well into my 70s now.  So, I am happy that I will be hopefully be able to embrace aging now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we spent the day with Donald and Shara.  We went to see Pineapple Express.  It was hilarious.  It was all kind of dumb humor.  Like Raising Arizona or Dumb and Dumber.  Loved it.  I wanted to go to Fujis for my birthday dinner but Rick didn't really want to go there.  I think I've worn him out on it.  So, instead, Sienna brought me some shrimp sauce from Fujis and we took that to Wasabis.  Wasabis has much better meat and with the Fuji shrimp sauce, the meal was perfect.  I can see it becoming a tradition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Rick took me to Ihop and later, we are going on a shopping spree.  Woohoo! He has truly spoiled me this year as he does every year. He's so good.  I can't believe how lucky I am to have him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a happy Sunday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-8988777289552390025?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/8988777289552390025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=8988777289552390025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8988777289552390025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/8988777289552390025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/08/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to Me!'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ7kZVRWfsI/AAAAAAAAAVY/IjA3kr_L9SI/s72-c/IMG_1714_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-4538566034764273565</id><published>2008-08-05T12:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T12:55:20.018-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My family is so cool</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJiFvrC6s8I/AAAAAAAAAUo/VJZqCak7Gs8/s1600-h/IMG_0049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJiFvrC6s8I/AAAAAAAAAUo/VJZqCak7Gs8/s320/IMG_0049.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231078021246137282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just returned from our trip to Michigan.  I must say, I was apprehensive about going but now I am so glad I did.  My family is a lot of fun to be around and they bent over backwards to keep us entertained and I am so grateful to them for showing us a good time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived on Wednesday afternoon. I have been sensitive to the fact that I am going into GM country while driving a Honda.  Most of my uncles work or have worked for GM.  I know that there are some not so pleasant thoughts about people who don't buy American.  So, on Wednesday, as we got closer into town, my aunt Karla met us at an exit so we could follow her on to my Uncle Karl's house.  My Uncle Karl had called us about 4 times to see where we were and when we would be arriving, which I thought was weird, but whatever.  So I am following Karla down the interstate and going about 72 when we pass a cop sitting in the median.  I wasn't too worried because I wasn't really speeding.  Then next thing I know, this cop slides in right behind me and turns on his lights!  Mom is like, what did you do to make him pull you over?  I said, I didn't do anything.  He's probably pulling me over because I am driving an out of state Honda....so I am a nervous wreck. In the meantime, Aunt Karla takes off, which I thought was weird.  She should have at least stopped and waited for me.  So I am digging through my purse to find my license. I had changed purses and couldn't find my license and that made me even more nervous.  So, both of the officers came to the car, one on each side.  And I look up and there was my Uncle Karl.  I said, " That is not even funny!"  So everybody got a laugh at my expense.  That was my welcome to Michigan.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJiF199iATI/AAAAAAAAAUw/DJ5fzu5h5yM/s1600-h/IMG_0091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJiF199iATI/AAAAAAAAAUw/DJ5fzu5h5yM/s320/IMG_0091.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231078129403035954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had lots of laughs the entire trip.  I saw people again that I haven't seen in about 17 yrs.  But it was so comfortable and yes, I think my family is very cool.  I am busy planning when we can go back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-4538566034764273565?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/4538566034764273565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=4538566034764273565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4538566034764273565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/4538566034764273565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-family-is-so-cool.html' title='My family is so cool'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJiFvrC6s8I/AAAAAAAAAUo/VJZqCak7Gs8/s72-c/IMG_0049.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5884570392197042857</id><published>2008-07-27T17:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T17:54:54.019-04:00</updated><title type='text'>elation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SIzup2J0XVI/AAAAAAAAAUg/DZhbkvE_PHk/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SIzup2J0XVI/AAAAAAAAAUg/DZhbkvE_PHk/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227815670149045586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend has been one of my gushy, mushy, all is right with the world kind of weekends.  I am so very happy with my life just as it is, right here in this moment.  My girls are happy and in love.  Rick seems pretty content, not stressed. He's happy his house is in order. My parents are in good health.  My friends seem happy and are attentive. ( I require lots of attention)  My job is good. I don't have to work much.  I love my coworkers.   I often times lately feel like Snoopy when he dances around with his nose up in the air, in utter, sweet euphoria.  Nice.   So, I am just enjoying this while it lasts and I am expressing my gratitude everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is coming in on Tuesday.  Then we are headed to Michigan to visit family.  I have some apprehension about how its going to go, but I'm trying to have a good attitude about it.  Its an adventure and I am always up for a good adventure.  So, I'll let you know how it goes and I will try to blog again when I get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a happy day tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5884570392197042857?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5884570392197042857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5884570392197042857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5884570392197042857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5884570392197042857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/07/elation.html' title='elation'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SIzup2J0XVI/AAAAAAAAAUg/DZhbkvE_PHk/s72-c/images-1.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2286524513359428724</id><published>2008-07-20T18:27:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T21:26:22.388-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird Al</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SIO8dF0fhDI/AAAAAAAAAUY/1h9JrK2ElNM/s1600-h/n518632422_1045343_3492.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SIO8dF0fhDI/AAAAAAAAAUY/1h9JrK2ElNM/s320/n518632422_1045343_3492.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225227200644482098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great night last night.  Weird Al is funny.  He is one of those people where either you get him or you don't.   He has a sense of humor that many people don't get, but let me tell you, last night the Tennessee Theater was full of people who get him.  I liked him. I thought he was funny but at one point when I went to the bathroom, there were a couple of girls in there who were saying they were laughing so hard they were crying and I was like "really?"   I want that. I want to laugh so hard that I cry.  It didn't happen.  I don't really keep up with Weird Al and I don't really know very many of his songs and the sound was so loud I couldn't understand what he was saying.  So maybe, if I could have, it would have been better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't help that there was a guy who was at least 250# sitting next to me and he had horrible body odor and he was sweating and every time he would wave his hands in the air or rub against my arm I felt like barfing. Bleh! I just got more and more nauseated as the night went on.  I guess if those circumstances had been different I would have laughed until I cried. There was one point where Weird Al  came down into the audience and we were pretty close to the front and on the end and I was sure he was going to come up toward us  and I was praying, "Please don't let him come here, I would be so embarrassed if I puked all over his nice red sportcoat. " I was very relieved when he went back up on stage. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we spent time with friends and that is always fun.  Rick loved the concert, he said that I must have been absorbing all of the BO because he didn't smell anything.  I'm glad he had a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great Monday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2286524513359428724?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2286524513359428724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2286524513359428724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2286524513359428724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2286524513359428724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/07/weird-al.html' title='Weird Al'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SIO8dF0fhDI/AAAAAAAAAUY/1h9JrK2ElNM/s72-c/n518632422_1045343_3492.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1384455201218665965</id><published>2008-07-19T14:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T14:48:51.514-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Campers</title><content type='html'>Well Chanel has been home for 4 days now and it seems like she never left. I have really enjoyed having her home.  This weekend, for Sienna's birthday, they all went camping . Rick and I went out to visit them this morning and it was so obvious that none of them are campers.  It was about 85 degrees out there when we were there and of course, there was no air conditioning but Chanel and Sienna felt so gross after swimming in the lake, that they both had to go and take showers.  It is going to be a long hot day and, personally, I would have forgone the shower but whatever.  While we were there, they both got hot and sweaty again.  Sienna says she didn't sleep much at all last night and she was just a little grouchy. Chanel didn't even pack a pillow or a towel, so neither she nor Steve had either.  They only had about 4 pieces of firewood, and one pan, no spatula.  Their cooler had no ice in it, it had all melted.  And the only thing they had to drink was beer, which is illegal in the park, and 2 small bottles of fruit juice which had been in Chanel's car since before she left in January. lol.  I was so tempted to go to the grocery store and get everything they needed, like I usually do, but decided in the end I would just leave the cupcakes I brought and let them work all the rest out on their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were visited by a park ranger this morning because they had left beer cans out on the picnic table.  He threatened to take Sienna to jail because she is under age...though, she says she wasn't the one who was drinking. And Sienna, being kind of grouchy from no sleep, smarted off to the ranger which made him mad.  Not too smart.  He let them off with a warning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve is here to visit Chanel and it was pretty funny, as I was talking to him, he kept commenting on how hot it was.  He is not a camper either. :)  He is very charming and I can see why Chanel loves him so much.  He seems to be a stabilizing factor in her life, like Rick is in mine. He seems happy to be with Chanel, but not so happy about sweating,  bees, the hard ground and the lack of water.   I have forewarned him about the randomness in our family but he is very aware of how Chanel is and seems fine with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, We are going with Don and Shara to see Weird Al.  I have never been a big fan of Weird Al but the guys really like him and I'm sure we will have a lot of much needed laughter.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great Saturday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1384455201218665965?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1384455201218665965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1384455201218665965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1384455201218665965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1384455201218665965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-campers.html' title='Happy Campers'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1083175365759711075</id><published>2008-07-16T07:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T08:19:14.005-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally home</title><content type='html'>We picked up Chanel from the airport last night.  I insisted on getting there early.  I wanted to be there in case her plane came in early.  You never know and planes come in early so often these days, right?  I just didn't want her to get there early and not have us there to meet her.  We had forgotten to pick up the flowers I intended on getting so since we were waiting so long, Sienna decided to do a Welcome Home banner on her Macbook. It turned out very nice and Chanel loved having a non traditional Welcome sign. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, her flight was delayed by 27 minutes. And when it did come in, we went up closer to wait and all the people got off and no Chanel.  We waited 10 extra minutes, and no Chanel.  I started getting very anxious then, pacing around, almost crying and then finally, she comes wandering out the gate.  I ran to her and hugged her and started  crying with relief.  She had stopped to use the rest room.  It was so typical Chanel to leave us waiting, but it had me a nervous wreck all the same.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks good considering it was 4 a.m. Belgium time when she got here. She had left at 6 am our time and arrived in Knoxville at 9:27 pm. Long day.  She had gotten used to  speaking in clear succinct verbage. I guess because she had to enunciate clearly when speaking to her french and german languaged friends.  Rick spent much of the evening trying to get her to speak East Tennessee-ish again.  Pretty funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I forgot to take pictures of her.  I am hoping I get better at that now that I have a new, small Canon Elph to carry with me in my purse everywhere. I just got it yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, she's here and she's fine and I can't wait to hear of all her adventures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a happy Wednesday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1083175365759711075?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1083175365759711075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1083175365759711075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1083175365759711075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1083175365759711075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/07/finally-home.html' title='Finally home'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2607936289988685085</id><published>2008-07-13T09:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T09:58:54.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2 days!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SHoJdOsJmvI/AAAAAAAAAUI/r_hBselcnw8/s1600-h/n52707827_31430154_9643.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SHoJdOsJmvI/AAAAAAAAAUI/r_hBselcnw8/s320/n52707827_31430154_9643.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222497115653642994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My darling wayward daughter will be home in 2 days. I am praying she will have a safe trip.  I can't wait to see her.  The last time I was at McGhee Tyson airport, I sobbed my eyes out from anxiety and sorrow.  This time I will probably sob my eyes out from relief that she is finally home and safe. Tuesday will be a good day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This coming weekend, I will finally get to meet Steve.  I'm not really nervous about that. I trust that she has made a good choice.  It will finally be good to chat with my potential  future son-in-law.  The only thing that worries me is that I will say something stupid to embarrass Chanel.  I have been known to blurt things out and then say, I can't believe I just said that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chanel will be a busy girl when she gets home.  She will have to get car insurance again, and a phone.  She will need to find an apartment in Cookeville and a job before starting school next month. All with little money. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Sienna has about decided not to move to Cookeville. She will have to talk to Chanel about it more when she is home. I'm going to try to just give a little bit of guidance and then let them make their own decisions.  I have to trust that they will make the right ones.  They are both smart girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a rainy Sunday.  It will be a nice day to snuggle with Rick on the couch and watch Happy Feet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2607936289988685085?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2607936289988685085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2607936289988685085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2607936289988685085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2607936289988685085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/07/2-days.html' title='2 days!'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SHoJdOsJmvI/AAAAAAAAAUI/r_hBselcnw8/s72-c/n52707827_31430154_9643.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1925939802106103348</id><published>2008-07-01T21:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T21:34:25.527-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost and Survivor where are you?</title><content type='html'>Okay, so we all know that Rick and I love to watch TV.  During summer there is absolutely nothing on TV and I am so ashamed to say that this is what we have stooped to:  Ice Road Truckers&lt;br /&gt;                                                                          Ax Men&lt;br /&gt;                                                                          Black Gold&lt;br /&gt;                                                                          Verminators (no joke)&lt;br /&gt;                                         and last but not least:  All About Dung.   I mean, seriously?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1925939802106103348?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1925939802106103348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1925939802106103348' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1925939802106103348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1925939802106103348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/07/lost-and-survivor-where-are-you.html' title='Lost and Survivor where are you?'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-2431555066429839239</id><published>2008-06-29T18:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T18:24:11.849-04:00</updated><title type='text'>As another weekend draws to a close....</title><content type='html'>What a nice weekend we've had! Saturday my friend Shara and I scrapped all day until our backs ached.  I loved that.  I got 5 layouts done at the crop and then came home and did 3 more. Then today, I did 2 more!  Feels so good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have opened my mouth and inserted my foot this week and have tried to back peddle for several days now.  I suggested that maybe Sienna needed a fresh start with fresh faces, namely Chanel and her friends.  I just wish Sienna could find some decent people to hang out with and maybe some college boys to date.  I've been somewhat disappointed in her choices of men and I just want her to find someone who is good to her and who has a bright future.  Chanel is moving back to Cookeville for a while so she can finish up her Master's and well, Chanel knows everybody and her friends are nice and it would be a neat opportunity for Sienna.    All that said....Sienna has a pretty good paying job with health insurance, I'm afraid she wouldn't find that there; traditionally, Chanel and Sienna just really don't get along very well, so it might be hard for them to live together; if she does move, Leeann loses a babysitter; if she does move, I will be here without either one of my girls and I will worry twice as much because I won't be able to see what's going on with them...  Not liking the idea so much now.   I just wish I would think twice before blurting out bright ideas.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 more days til Chanel comes home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a happy day tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-2431555066429839239?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/2431555066429839239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=2431555066429839239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2431555066429839239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/2431555066429839239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/06/as-another-weekend-draws-to-close.html' title='As another weekend draws to a close....'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-6866264883977056187</id><published>2008-06-21T23:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T09:59:33.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomnia can be a wonderful thing</title><content type='html'>I'm not sleeping again tonight.  It could be sign of an upcoming mood cycle but it just may be that I am working out almost daily and don't need as much sleep.  Time will tell.  I can sure get a lot done in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I did join Curves last week and between going there and my new Wii Fit, I have worked out 5 out of 7 days and I have lost only one pound.  But I do love Curves. I love it mostly because its just a 30 minute workout which means on a good day at work I can work out and be home by 6. When I was doing water aerobics, I would have to wait til 6 to start the class and I usually wouldn't get home until 7:15 and 7:30.  So this is much better. I have several workout buddies, Christy, Sienna and Leeann so we will all keep each other motivated to keep going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chanel will be home in 3 1/2 weeks.  I will be happy to have her home.  I've really missed her. She is having a great time but she is ready to come home as well. It's been interesting to hear her stories. I am especially curious about European's thoughts about the US and it seems that they talk about it all the time.  George Bush is definately not liked over there and they are definitely hoping we Americans will be smarter about who we elect this time around.  I am hoping so as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great day tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;Sweet dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-6866264883977056187?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/6866264883977056187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=6866264883977056187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6866264883977056187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/6866264883977056187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/06/insomnia-can-be-wonderful-thing.html' title='Insomnia can be a wonderful thing'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-5034445005841368335</id><published>2008-06-15T15:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T16:26:59.442-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sisiversary</title><content type='html'>We just returned from Sisiversary 2008 and we absolutely had a blast.  I mean, scrapbooking for a whole day and a half with my best friend, who can beat it?   We totally pooped out on Friday night though.  It was the weirdest thing.  One minute, we are just scrapping away, jabbering, learning new techniques and the next minute I am zoned.  I know the TA who was trying to help me learn to do a crochet knot totally thought I flaked out on her.  She kept teaching me to do it over and over and finally I just took the thing from her and set it down.  But I'm not the only one, Leeann was having just as hard a time as I was.  It had just been a long day and we were tired.  So we left and  were back in our room by 10. They were going downstairs until 1:30am though.  I just can't go like the energizer bunny anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, we woke up very early because Leeann had set her alarm for eastern time and Nashville is in central time, so yeah, we were early risers.  But we had time to have a nice leisurely breakfast in the hotel dining room and it was so good. We took 3 classes and cropped some on Saturday.  The classes were awesome.  Its hard to really explain them and if you're not a scrapbooker, you wouldn't understand just how special the classes were so when I am done with the projects, I'll have to post pictures of them.  I was trying to explain 2 of the classes to Rick when I got home and he was like -Oh, yeeaahh, uh-huh, mmmmm, nice.  And I was like: you totally don't get it do you? and he was like: um, no.  lol.  And now I'm like: why am I talking like a teenager with "like" and "totally"  ?  :) I have no idea.    We got lots of neat products and Saturday night I just had to spread them all out on the queen size bed and just touch them all again!  It just gives me goosebumps to see all the loot!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Leeann, she is like my favorite and time with her is precious. We can just talk about anything and believe me, we do.  She totally cracks me up sometimes.  She has this thing for Chik-Fil-a cups.  And Chik fil a ice.  We went through drive through a couple of times just to get a cup of ice.  She'd be like:" I hate to ask you this, but can we go get some ice at Chik fil a? " Or:" Could you do me just one more favor before we go back to the room? " And off we'd go to get some ice.  So cute.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night we were on our way back from dinner and we were talking about the number cards we chose in one of our classes. She chose the number 8 which, I learned, is Leeann's favorite number.  Apparently, she loves the number 8 and the letter W so much that she doodles them all the time.  She's like: (in a singsong voice) " I just love the number 8, I love to write it over and over. And W's.  I love to write the words, whatever, why..." OMG. Cracked me up!  I haven't laughed so hard since....well, since the last time we spent a significant amount of time together.   I mean, seriously?  lol.  Love that girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday before we left town, we went to Curves. There is this study going on where we pay $30 for 30 days of use of the gym.  They measured and weighed us. ugh. But it had to be done.  We had to sign a contract that we would work out 3 days a week. So, that's going to be my fitness plan for the next month.  I'm hoping I can get myself back on track and get some more weight off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good Sunday.  Happy Father's day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-5034445005841368335?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/5034445005841368335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=5034445005841368335' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5034445005841368335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/5034445005841368335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/06/sisiversary.html' title='Sisiversary'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-7039080801584214296</id><published>2008-06-10T18:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T21:10:15.542-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I want my mommy!</title><content type='html'>I know this is what my girls were shouting in their heads today. I even thought it myself once today.  Sienna called me this morning as I was headed out to work.  She had fallen down the stairs and was injured.  So, I called in sick to work and headed over there. Mom to the rescue!  Poor girl is pretty banged up.  She was half asleep and went out to her car in flip flops, (of course) and slipped on the wet stairs. She fell down 8 stairs.  As Rick said, "damn those flip flops!"   She's been having back problems and now she is really stoved up. She couldn't even sit up this morning.  But I think she will be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chanel called me this afternoon sobbing.  "Mom, okay, this is an emergency. I'm trying not to cry."  My heart started racing and thoughts of all kinds of things were running through my head.  You all know Chanel and know that she has decreased inhibitions and there is no telling what kind of mess she had gotten herself into.  Is she in jail? has she been in an accident?  all kinds of things going through my mind.  But apparently, the ATM machine took her debit card. And of course, being Chanel, she gets right down to her last penny, (or pound in this instance),  before she gets more money out. So, she is in London with no money and she is sobbing hysterically. I spent the next hour trying to get money wired to her.   OMG. What a nightmare. I tried to do it online and I couldn't get the site to work right. Then I tried to call and had to go through all these prompts giving all my information, then a real person comes on the line and I have to go through all of the exact same information again.  Then he tells me my credit card company denied the $ transfer. Damn Chase.  So, I want to use my other credit card and I have to give him all the demographic information AGAIN only this time with a different credit card number. And then he tells me no.  I have to call Citibank and get approval from them and call western union back.  But that he would go ahead and give me the MTA number, so I would just have to call him back and let him know its been approved by Citibank. SO, I call Citibank. I have to go through all the demographic information on the automated thing and THEN I get a real person on the phone and have to give her all the demo. info again.  I swear I had to repeat the last 4 of my social at least 12 times today.  So, she says, "Okay, I have all the information I need, I will just need to call you back at the phone number you gave me for validation."  So, I waited and waited for 15 mins. She didn't call, so I called the customer service number again.  AND had to go through all the prompts again, putting in all the #s and information, Until finally! I am able to talk to a real person again and guess what?  It was a different person and I had to go through all the demographic information with her.  AAAAaarrrggghh.! In the meantime, Chanel is frantic because the Western Union place is closing and she needs to be able to pay for a place to sleep tonight and she keeps calling me over and over.  6 times she called while i was trying to talk to the Citibank person.  So finally, its all approved and I call back the Western Union people and guess what? I have to go through putting in all the numbers for the prompts again.  Then I finally talk to the guy, The Same Guy, and I have to do it all again for him.  The same shit, again.  I am so over it, and I tell the guy I am over it and he begs me to be patient but I CAN"T! Dammit, I just want to send my daughter, who is in distress, some money!   So finally, it all goes through.    Chanel is thankful of course, but she says it will be 2 weeks before she gets her new card and I am thinking, Dang, I'm going to have to go through this all again and send her more money. *sigh*.. It should be easier the second time around because this time, I am going to call the credit card company before I call Western Union.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got Rick to call Chase when he got home because I was pissed that they wouldn't let me use them for the money transfer.  Their answer was that it seemed like an unusual event so they blocked any usage until they could talk to us.  I'm all for fraud prevention and stuff, but when I want to use my card, I want to use my card.  It makes me mad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, thanks for letting me rant. I needed that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-7039080801584214296?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/7039080801584214296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=7039080801584214296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7039080801584214296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/7039080801584214296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-want-my-mommy.html' title='I want my mommy!'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-3465784603723118136</id><published>2008-06-05T10:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T10:33:35.525-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally some validation of what I've been saying all along! :)</title><content type='html'>Tom Musbach, Yahoo! HotJobs&lt;br /&gt;The slowdown in the U.S. economy is threatening a necessity for workers: vacations.&lt;br /&gt;According to the annual Yahoo! HotJobs vacation survey, 51% of respondents said they plan to skip taking a vacation this year, opting to save money instead.&lt;br /&gt;Not a Frivolous Matter&lt;br /&gt;"Vacations are usually the first thing to go when people feel job or economic pressure," says Joe Robinson, a trainer in work-life balance and author of "Work to Live." He continues, "We're programmed to believe that free time is worthless, a frill to shove aside, but vacations are as important as watching your cholesterol or getting exercise."&lt;br /&gt;Skipping a vacation can also be bad for your employer.&lt;br /&gt;Milo and Thuy Sindell, founders of Hit the Ground Running and authors of "Job Spa," say, "You are not helpful to the company and your coworkers when you are not operating at full capacity. Vacations help you to get rejuvenated to come back to work at full capacity."&lt;br /&gt;Make It Work With Less&lt;br /&gt;For those tempted to skip vacation this year due to financial worries, experts recommend the following tips:&lt;br /&gt;Remind yourself: Vacation is not a luxury. "You owe it to yourself, your family, and your company to take care of yourself by stepping out of the office for at least a few days at a time," says Liz Bywater, president of the Bywater Consulting Group, which helps improve organizational performance.&lt;br /&gt;Put aside some funds each week. "Even $50 a week [or less] can add up and make your trip happen," says Robinson.&lt;br /&gt;Plan leisure activities near home. "Stay at home and read, garden, hike, jog, bike, or whatever you like to do but never have enough time for during the weekends," say the Sindells. "Or be a tourist in your own city."&lt;br /&gt;Try home-swapping. You can swap with someone you know in another city, or use an online service, such as homexchange.com or even vrbo.com (Vacation Rentals by Owner). "It can have the look and feel of a vacation at a much more affordable housing cost than paying for hotel or resort lodging," says Michael Haubrich, president of Financial Service Group and an expert in financial planning for career issues.&lt;br /&gt;Keep the itinerary simple. Travel columnist Donald D. Groff recommends selecting a destination within 200 miles (a three-hour drive) from your home. If you're traveling by plane, fly nonstop whenever possible. "The sooner you get to your destination, the sooner your relaxation begins," Groff says.&lt;br /&gt;Stress-Busting Strategies&lt;br /&gt;The economic downturn is also adding to workers' stress levels. Nearly a third of the respondents (31%) are worried by how the economy is affecting their workplaces, and 34% said they feel pressure to improve their performance for fear of being laid off.&lt;br /&gt;With 55% of respondents admitted to being "burned out" by work, stress and fatigue add another threat to vacations. Experts say you can prevent the threat in the following ways:&lt;br /&gt;Start small. "Start with an afternoon off to do something you really enjoy, even if it's just a walk at the beach or a visit to a farmer's market," says Beth A. Levin, author of "Making a Richer, More Fulfilling Life a Reality."&lt;br /&gt;If planning is a burden, don't. "Instead of planning a vacation, just take time off to be at home and figure it out each day as you go," the Sindells suggest.&lt;br /&gt;Enlist back-up support. Ask a trusted coworker to back you up while you're away and offer to return the favor, Bywater suggests. "It's much easier to relax when you know someone's got you covered."&lt;br /&gt;Choose according to what you need. You may need a peaceful retreat from stress, or you may benefit from something more active and exciting. "Avoid the kind of vacation that will leave you even more exhausted than before," she adds.&lt;br /&gt;Give yourself a deadline. "Stop thinking about it and just do it," says Bywater. "Think of it as 'doctor's orders.'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-3465784603723118136?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/3465784603723118136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=3465784603723118136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3465784603723118136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/3465784603723118136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/06/finally-some-validation.html' title='Finally some validation of what I&apos;ve been saying all along! :)'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12705252.post-1195239419040539169</id><published>2008-05-31T11:14:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T10:02:58.874-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex and the City</title><content type='html'>I went to see Sex &amp; The City last night with Leeann and Sienna.  Its a wonderful story about love and the everlasting bond of friendship. Its a feel good movie that you absolutely must see with your girlfriends but can I just say it is very weird sitting there watching sex scenes with my daughter sitting right next to me. eeww.  There were a lot of sex scenes, hence the name, and I should have expected it. What was I thinking? I have no explanation except that as usual, I wasn't.   It was a good movie though and if you like chick flicks you really must go.  Just don't go with your daughter.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a good week.  Work just gets tough sometimes.  But whose doesn't?  This coming week, Dr. Robertson is on vacation so that means I get some more days off this week. That will be nice. I've got plenty to do to keep me busy. I'm going to try to help Leeann get ready for her living estate sale next week. With as much experience as I have yard saling, I should be a pro.  I grew up on yard sales.  My parents love to go and most Saturdays as a kid, we would be up at the crack of dawn in order to go.  My parents still love to go.  Its their entertainment for the week.  Every time we go to visit we hit the yard sales, but my parents no longer get up so early to start. Dad will usually let us sleep until at least 7:30. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a happy weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12705252-1195239419040539169?l=psychnurs1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/feeds/1195239419040539169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12705252&amp;postID=1195239419040539169' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1195239419040539169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12705252/posts/default/1195239419040539169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psychnurs1.blogspot.com/2008/05/sex-and-city.html' title='Sex and the City'/><author><name>Psychnurs1</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02440650801585677333</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jPmf91rJ8UY/SJ5LeoDQCxI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/_DrzituIEB8/s1600-R/IMG_0015.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
