tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55233852012-02-16T21:46:48.580-05:00teen angst in a thirty-something isn't pretty. but i suppose since i wasn't allowed to get it all out then, it has to come out sometimes. let this be a lesson- let your kids be who they are WHEN they are. <br> <b><i>If you use any of my blog entries, please remember to give credit where credit is due. These are my intellectual properties and I appreciate when due respect is given to the thought I have put into these. </i></b>Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.comBlogger1091100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-25236973364047931782011-05-27T15:03:00.001-05:002011-05-27T15:03:34.869-05:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-55214923185242568062011-05-19T18:04:00.003-05:002011-05-19T18:04:43.370-05:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-65092965087670610932011-05-19T18:04:00.001-05:002011-05-19T18:04:11.773-05:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-22311065951759494742011-05-16T13:04:00.001-05:002011-05-16T13:04:28.084-05:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-86551804640453356322011-04-02T12:33:00.001-05:002011-04-02T12:33:03.052-05:00

See the full gallery on Posterous I'll be the first to admit that I'm a weak photographer. I'm better at the perspectives aspect than the painting with light aspect. I haven't invested in flashes or lights simply because I like how natural light looks the best. Unfortunately that leaves me in a bind when it comes to snapping pictures of my kids. They never turned put right. Too dark, too

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1961288607423820272011-01-18T09:44:00.001-05:002011-01-18T09:44:09.957-05:00

See and download the full gallery on posterousIt snowed last night and today it's become an icky icy mix. Not fit to play in, but it reminded me of the pictures from the last snow. This is my daughter, having fun and ignoring the "rules" of a snow day.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-22208169917856568462010-12-23T19:40:00.001-05:002010-12-23T19:40:56.090-05:00

Doing the out-in-the-cold-holly-jolly thing and still feeling bah humbug.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-84144271682681336162009-01-23T13:36:00.005-05:002009-01-23T13:45:19.722-05:00

If you think you're not affected, guess again. Odds are, you are. Recent Forbes article: Scrap the CPSIAI see this as another form of big business using our fears to wipe out the competition. Odds are you don't remember the Consumer Product Safety Commission's warning against co-sleeping. At a basic level, they are responsible for products, not the use of products. Add to that, they skewed

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-17463097381688964612008-04-17T11:41:00.003-05:002008-04-17T11:55:30.634-05:00

I don't think people know how much they mean to me. I should tell them, but just thinking about it my nose is tingling and my eyes are welling up. Any little thing is likely to bring me up short.Why?Because I have a hard time believing I am worthy of thought, consideration, affection. The significant people in my life have gone to great pains to teach me that. My kids though...they are

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-28354168129105278632008-04-11T12:54:00.004-05:002008-04-11T15:33:03.240-05:00

Teen parents disagree on child-rearingI know that P. doesn't always jump right into my zany ideas. We're going on a year of deciding to homeschool. He thought extended breastfeeding was odd, but understood the benefits. When it came to co-sleeping, P. was actually the one to suggest it and I had to research the safety of it before I agreed.I know Christian parents married to their Jewish

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-42215884432273634602008-03-27T20:51:00.003-05:002008-03-27T21:10:01.695-05:00

Didja get the IRS mailing about the "Economic Stimulus Payment"?If you did, you know what I'm talking about. It probably cost a few hundred thou to print and mail all of these letters.What was their purpose? Oh, just the IRS equivalent of Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes. You may have already won.Yeah. You may have qualified for the check. Or not. We're just telling you- nothing. If

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-23333480927460592962007-05-14T18:59:00.000-05:002007-05-14T19:02:39.930-05:00

Nobody knows what a hard job it is to be a mom, until they are a mom. This is for those of us who have a hard time with celebrating the mother in our life.I can't remember the last time I celebrated Mother's Day for my mother. Sadly, some women really shouldn't have kids. My mom had five, and at one point or another we all agreed she shouldn't have had any- or at least stopped at the first when

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-60834138030973653582007-04-11T09:47:00.000-05:002007-04-11T10:12:50.756-05:00

I've gone 'round and 'round on doing this since the changes at Blogger. I have finally decided to set this blog to private. So, if you want to continue reading it, please email me at ecu9697@gmail.comWhy this choice? I know I post many personal things here, but I actually don't mind that. I have had people contact me, thanking me for my honesty about my struggle with depression. Hoping that

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-51722893136579035442007-04-10T13:01:00.000-05:002007-04-10T13:12:37.729-05:00

I forgot to post about something that happened while my sister was here. Maybe I did but didn't give it its due attention. Given everything that went on at the time, I'm sure those of you in the know will understand.My sister has been trying to find some people from her past. She found our uncle, he tends to just 'take off' and we go decades without knowing where he is. She also found a

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-61997029289365412272007-04-04T14:49:00.000-05:002007-04-05T06:31:34.647-05:00

I'm writing this because the purpose of the blog is to share the truth of struggling with depression. It's hard for me to deal with this still.I had a relapse early in the week. I suppose there's irony there because I had just been to a therapy session and we decided that it was ok we couldn't find a two week appointment to fit into both schedules, this time a month would be fine. I could call

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-39133016950015224272007-03-25T07:59:00.000-05:002007-03-25T08:09:08.378-05:00

I read recently that if you want to help the environment, you don't have to become uber-granola and try to save the world one tree-hugging moment at a time. Just pick one thing to do and go from there, being an example and doing more when you can.I suppose my first earth-friendly deed that I am an example of is breastfeeding. Oh, all the resources saved just by no formula cans to be recycled,

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-16059486717338118352007-03-22T05:15:00.000-05:002007-03-22T06:14:12.929-05:00

we've walked this stretch of beach beforethe waves fall into the shorethe sand shifts under our feetwhat should be the same is ever changingin the past we have entwined our armsfingers laced togetherheads tilted towards each otherwe've also just walked side by sidefingertips touchingthe words on our lips barely saideach time we walk this strandwe walk a different waynear farbut togethernow I find

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-38063484667829192422007-03-21T07:58:00.000-05:002007-03-22T14:36:12.298-05:00

Recently, someone left me a message that read: face reality. Reality is that P. and I dated young. Have had marital problems based on the youth and issues from our past. We never dealt with each problem fully in our marriage, everything just built up. Now we find ourselves at the point of no return.We push and pull. Sometimes he's fully committed, sometimes I am. There are so many factors

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-51376828215054808412007-03-20T06:36:00.000-05:002007-03-20T06:44:16.563-05:00

Sometimes, after I get out of the shower in the morning, the kids get in. It's cool, because I have some peace while I am getting ready and putting their stuff together.This morning while they were in the shower, J. begins saying, "Mimi! Mimi!" which she tends to do when she sees nipples (or anything else breast related really). C. replied, "Yes, but when I grow up, I won't make milk." J.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-87782583951744746612007-03-16T14:16:00.000-05:002007-03-16T14:29:03.559-05:00

Part of not huddling inside myself and holding onto the pain means that I am becoming not just a 'there' mom, not just a 'come cuddle a bit' mom, but a 'more fun' mom. We're establishing little routines to build fun into our days. We joke, we tickle, we laugh.The kids love when I try to sleep in and they gang up on me giving me tummy gummies. They love to dance around the room and have me film

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-57734340841307714642007-03-15T09:05:00.000-05:002007-03-15T08:06:03.227-05:00

I know, how can you not compare life to seasons? The summer of youth, the winter of old age. It's been done so many times and here comes another comparison.I always enjoy walking C. to school. Ok, the day it was 6 degrees out, not so much. But we get to watch the world around us gradually change. When school started, we watched the blooms gradually turn to apples and pears. Then the fruit

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-85349083572634334102007-03-15T07:51:00.000-05:002007-03-15T06:51:31.208-05:00

As a military brat, we celebrated the two-digit midget days when we got to go home after an overseas PCS. No matter how you adapted to the country you were sent to, there's nothing like 'home' even if home ends up being an assignment in a new state. The point is, being stateside. So, to celebrate P.'s recent step into the digit midget realm, I bring you a walk through memory lane. Feel free

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-61410208840315741632007-03-13T15:49:00.000-05:002007-03-13T15:50:42.615-05:00

Today my therapist called to tell me about a yearly magazine that comes out in the mental health community in my state. The deadline is in April and he thinks I am a good writer and wants me to submit something. I think the Wounded Child essay is one, but I can submit three more. Anything you remember reading of mine that would have widespread appeal? Anything that struck a chord?Just let me

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-84453164241821208812007-03-12T08:32:00.000-05:002007-03-12T08:44:07.142-05:00

I like this new place I am. Obviously, I am not totally thrilled with the situation, but who I am and where I am inside me makes me feel pretty darn good. I have been fighting my way up for so long it's been hard to look around. But after the precipice, I have slowly been awakening to my surroundings.This morning while walking C. to school, I noticed they are awakening too. Frost on the

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-34813831130346793382007-03-10T08:54:00.000-05:002007-03-10T11:21:25.011-05:00

Another year older. We have both changed so much since we were 18. It would be a shame if we didn't.Chatting with P. last night, he had a bad headache. A Bree migraine he called it. But still, he chatted with me about family stuff until the wee hours because he said it made him feel better and forget the pain. He was also sweet enough to comfort me with all my roadblock issues mentioned in

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-86424953198671509802007-03-09T16:09:00.000-05:002007-03-10T11:22:28.036-05:00

Here we are, in the last weeks of P. being gone and I find them harder than even the first weeks. The kids are great, it's just me. I know what it's going to be like to be together again after three months and then I don't know.There's a roadblock I can't really put a name to. It's a pitiful roadblock really. If I was at another place in my life I would look at it more as a speed bump. Or

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-68087024805969751182007-03-03T06:27:00.000-05:002007-03-03T06:53:34.596-05:00

Those little circles hold so much symbolism. Round and round to eternity for one. What type you pick tells something about who you are. How important they are, when you wear them, when you take them off.The story of my wedding ring. We shopped around for one we could afford in college. I wanted a plain gold band. P. wanted a heart shaped diamond. He got his way. We found a nice little .25

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-74830783104616103622007-02-28T19:50:00.000-05:002007-02-28T20:07:12.238-05:00

We didn't take as many pictures as we should have for Sis's visit. But just her being here during a very tough week was a blessing. So, here are some pics of her and the kids: Sis with C. and J. getting ready to leave. C. relaxing C. being silly C. and Aunt S. J. giving a kiss. J. sticking her tongue out.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-58176395771314472422007-02-25T20:18:00.000-05:002007-02-25T20:23:37.336-05:00

I've never been a fan of instrumental music. I think I have had two CDs I liked that were purely instrumental- Handel's Water Suites and Jiang Xiao Qing's Breathing Spaces Don't ask me why those two. Which reminds me, I need a new copy of the Water Suites as someone borrowed my CDs and never gave them back. Anyhow, today, listening to the instrumental part of a very touching song in church, I

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-55622653603076369172007-02-25T17:55:00.000-05:002007-02-25T20:18:06.161-05:00

Today was pretty much a good day. As we prepared to go to church, the kids and I were thrilled to see big fluffy flakes of snow falling. We went to church, it's always good to connect with the community. C. and J. love their Sunday school classes, so I get to sit and enjoy the sermon with no worries about fussing kids. Second hour was canceled just in case the snow got too bad. I was

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-31766992595848875012007-02-23T08:55:00.000-05:002007-02-23T09:01:00.091-05:00

Time for an easy blog. I just wanted to let the friends that have been beside me through my ups and downs, crying, laughter and excuses- I appreciate it. I heard this song today and cried, thinking of ya'll. You might want to check out the YouTube link quick, as they are cleaning out the copyrighted stuff ;)Destiny's Child - Girl Lyrics[Verse 1 Beyonce]Take A Minute Girl Come Sit DownAnd Tell

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-61163681371171543152007-02-18T04:50:00.000-05:002007-03-03T06:54:37.483-05:00

my sis is here visiting. my kids are sound asleep. and i can only think of the one person that is not here in our home.It's so hard to have him gone when we're trying to work out our problems, but the things he's said in the past few days I cling to.That I am his future.There will be no sliding downhill as we climb to a happier marriage.I'm his best friend.There's a lighthouse we need to go

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1969144850824292072007-02-16T20:29:00.000-05:002007-02-16T20:41:44.069-05:00

So, in follow up to my post about trying to shovel the driveway, you can see what I accomplished today:Yes, all but the last four feet, I cleared! I poured hot water onto the pavement, it turned the bottom of the ice into slush and I was able to get the spade under and break it off into chunks. While I did this, two guys were working on the driveway two houses down. I did what they did, only

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-90933493086340901452007-02-14T19:30:00.000-05:002007-02-14T20:24:26.822-05:00

No, of course not, well, not exactly. My day consisted of the highs and lows of someone struggling to deal with marital problems while her partner is overseas, depression rearing- or trying to rear it's ugly head and a pile of icy snow.The morning started out with a foreboding feeling that none of my usual coping techniques helped. I wrote my fears and frustrations out, I tried to imagine them

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-86166878487338397822007-02-12T11:19:00.000-05:002007-02-12T11:27:04.536-05:00

Today, after I dropped C. off at school, I was walking home, listening to my iPod. Unwritten was the song and suddenly I thought, today is unwritten. I have things I need to do, but not every moment is written. I took a detour and walked the long way home. It occurred to me that one different turn and J. and I would be at the local tot lot. So one more detour later and J. and I were playing

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-13645894279870650242007-02-11T20:20:00.000-05:002007-02-08T07:31:51.275-05:00

Just a quick note to commemorate the first Healingway. My dear friend M. has the strength to ask to be uplifted, and she did so by inviting a group of special friends together to celebrate her birthday...and her.A total of seven women gathered at her home and filled her heart with stories of how special she has been to them. As facilitator of that part of the party, I had felt I kept it too

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-55404157895099909872007-02-07T07:51:00.000-05:002007-02-07T08:00:54.730-05:00

Ok, seriously I have been too distracted lately being (temporary?) 'single mom' and all the other stuff going on in my life and marriage. Sometimes I feel like I barely have the energy to hold my head up, let alone doggy paddle to the shore.But, bright spot in recent events...the announcement of the release date for Harry Potter, book 7. I started reading these when I was pregnant with C. in

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-34214713056168503562007-02-02T09:05:00.000-05:002007-02-02T09:25:42.945-05:00

This time of year is always poignant. We have the anniversary of our first date, follwed very shortly by our wedding anniversary. Then Valentine's Day and the next month, P's birthday.With so much going on in our lives, it's easy to focus on the negative. And I have more than I like to admit. I've been walking a tightrope of forcing myself to look at harsh reality and trying my best to live

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-81465363757285335702007-01-26T07:30:00.000-05:002007-01-26T07:42:59.790-05:00

It's not the most quoted of that chapter, but when I prayed for a thirst for the word (as my mind sadly tends to wander when I am trying to read the Bible) this is what ended up in my hands. It was almost comical, I opened the Bible and thought, "I need to read Corinthians, but not that chapter, it's so over done, I'll start at the beginning. Guess which page my Bible opened up to? So I

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-88620423836196357302007-01-24T20:04:00.001-05:002008-03-31T15:55:12.383-05:00

Since two 18 year olds sat at a table in a college cafeteria and argued about all manner of things, then became friends over the next couple of weeks and finally ended up dancing in the aisle of a movie theater to the music of the end credits.So much has happened since then, wonderful, good, bad and awful. So much is still unknown about this marriage between "teenagers" and what will happen.But

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-28278983122694930952007-01-21T17:35:00.000-05:002007-01-21T18:06:48.050-05:00

Finally, a fluffy, lighthearted blog entry. This morning, I wasn't ready to get out of bed, but since I refused to nurse J. (thinking it was earlier than it was based on the light in the room) she woke up. Then C. woke up. So I got up, checked the time, it was 7am. Our usual wake up time. So I set the kids up with breakfast and go upstairs to get ready for church.Amazingly, the morning goes

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-11676342076417630492007-01-17T19:49:00.000-05:002007-01-18T18:54:36.040-05:00

I cautiously approached my wounded child today. She looked up at me through unkempt hair, clothes grubby and face streaked with dirt and tears. She was wearing an iron-on shirt with a little girl playing baseball and the words "Girls can Do Anything Boys can Do" across the top. It, like her flared cords looked like they needed a wash. On her feet were the brown bobos I had always detested and

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-4679932298290952382007-01-16T15:47:00.000-05:002007-01-16T16:05:04.801-05:00

Yet another dual blog day.On the way home from our first marriage counseling session, P. suddenly said, "Look, what do you see?" I peered into the darkness. The traffic sign? Car ahead of us? "No, look closer, in the headlights." The license plate with one of those vanity sayings you don't quite get? "No- it's snow! You love when it snows!"Normally I did, but right then, my heart was heavy

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-88694354307789194432007-01-16T15:31:00.000-05:002007-01-16T15:47:25.636-05:00

Wikipedia has a bit of a different take on it than I remember from my studies but it will give you an idea of what I am talking about. I do find it interesting the connections the entry draws with "fishers of men" and the legend. Also, the French words for "fisher" and "sinner" being so close.I was thinking about the legend (as I remembered from my lit classes in college). It was about a king,

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-39091030483589998162007-01-10T20:32:00.000-05:002007-01-10T20:44:50.484-05:00

A good friend recently remarked to me that she was surprised to hear me speaking so much from the Christian perspective (and I have lately). She thought of me as more the pagan-mother-earth-goddess type (M- correct me if I put this wrong ;) ).I am surprised too, to be honest. I have long felt that there's a definite feminine spirit out there, and I can totally believe in spirits within trees

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-33729680137428093232007-01-10T16:16:00.000-05:002007-01-10T16:33:57.438-05:00

Early in the summer of '92, I said goodbye to P. I remember standing on the chair in the dorm lobby, just looking into his eyes, wanting the moment to last forever. I was set to spend the summer working in a factory earning money so I could return to college the next year. He was off to 13 weeks of boot camp. I just wanted to hold on and not let go.This weekend, I was taken back to that time.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-4243853146413910292006-12-31T11:49:00.000-05:002006-12-31T13:15:52.500-05:00

Always between Christmas and New Years I think of Gram, since that's when her birthday fell. So I am posting today for her again what I had posted at MDC:I light this candle for my Gram. I grew up as a military brat of divorced parents, so I didn't see her much until I was on my own.But she was the only one that ever showed me true and unconditional love. It is her seed, planted and watered with

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-36660821610251633362006-12-31T08:49:00.001-05:002006-12-31T13:17:44.420-05:00

So, last night we spent time as a family looking at the moon. I noticed something. With the naked eye, there is a huge contrast. There are definite shadows and areas of light. Through the telescope, you see more. You see the trenches and the craters and the gouges, marks of events that changed the landscape of the moon. But you don't see the dark and the light.I feel like the moon sometimes.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-90739241205808477682006-12-15T10:20:00.000-05:002006-12-15T13:18:29.038-05:00

Go Elf yourself!Here's J. Here'sC's elf!

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-62863897369996364042006-12-15T09:18:00.000-05:002006-12-15T09:27:33.668-05:00

So, there's a lot of stress going on in my life right now. The totally amazing part to me is that I am not falling apart like I usually do. Oh, I have my moments. But they are not as low as my lows used to be. I am in total amazement and it honestly feels like a little miracle to me. Where are all the self recriminations? the tangible pain inside?For instance, yesterday was a low day. Sad

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-30139059926316454182006-12-11T18:17:00.000-05:002006-12-11T18:55:32.983-05:00

So often, my posts about depression have been whining. It takes control of me, and it's easier to let it than to fight it.You're about to read a very personal confession (yeah- I hold back in my other writings, right?). I hope it helps or gives a ray of light to someone. During one of my evenings of pain, I came across this site. Please share it with anyone you think needs it. I apologize in

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-35200228650482192572006-11-30T18:39:00.000-05:002006-12-01T14:06:00.113-05:00

I posted before about leaving a group for my own good. I know that it sounds crazy to love a group of women as individuals, even as a group, yet not want to be part of the group. But there it is...when have I ever done anything completely sane?Anyhow, knowing who I am has paid off. As soon as I cut ties to these wonderful ladies as a group, I allowed myself to venture out to other groups,

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-3511111475987391812006-11-29T06:44:00.000-05:002006-11-29T06:53:07.873-05:00

(first let me warn you, although this is the last of three entries today, it will show up first, so get ready for a blogfest)After taking steps and making calls yesterday, I realized that my impression of my impatience was wrong. I always thought I could not stand uncertainty, couldn't stand waiting and not knowing. That's not it! It's the waiting and not doing. As soon as I start taking

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-38316415741010153802006-11-29T06:26:00.000-05:002006-11-29T06:44:09.518-05:00

I've been meaning to write this letter for awhile now. You made my first year teaching high school harder than it needed to be. Instead of a mentor you were a tormentor.I don't need to recount all the wrongs. They don't matter. What matters is the realization of your motivation behind them. Many mentors would say they needed to be tough to make sure a rookie teacher has a solid start. You

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-43159656051349266922006-11-29T06:01:00.000-05:002007-02-11T20:26:31.494-05:00

I have been doing a lot of thinking about a Healingway, even if I haven't written about it here.I've realized that just like labor, there will be a path that is different for each person we celebrate in a Healingway. I had also started thinking about the Healingway as an ending, when it's really a beginning, just like the Blessingway. Imagine the power of your closest friends and family setting

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-34645047723548544042006-11-28T19:30:00.000-05:002006-11-28T20:53:08.586-05:00

Walking through the gentle autumn day, so many sensations float past me. I'm infused with a sense of happiness for the moment. As I lift my daughter to my shoulders, it hits me again that I am the grownup. My time of the heady joy of someone sweeping you along, higher than the world on their shoulders is long past. Instead of regretting that it didn't happen often enough, I smiled at the

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-16225249700243159572006-11-22T14:49:00.000-05:002006-11-22T15:16:59.333-05:00

No solid food and no milk products after midnight-whoops, she nursed. Although breastmilk is technically not dairy so I'll let myself slide. It isn't on the list of acceptable clear liquids though.Notify surgeon if symptoms of a cold appear-we had a ped check up on Monday, she was free and clear. Tuesday afternoon a runny nose started. I didn't feel she was too sick, so I didn't call. I was

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-54939072955272689572006-11-19T21:14:00.000-05:002006-11-19T21:23:29.363-05:00

With all my negativity lately, I thought maybe I should think about the good things. I have been allowing myself more creative outlets. Writing more, even if most of it is for this blog.I have been keeping the house orderly, although every surface could use a good wipedown.I'm accomplishing more and making less excuses for what I don't do. I allow myself lazy time without guilt.I am recognizing

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-57667668509835382042006-11-18T18:50:00.000-05:002006-11-18T19:16:54.363-05:00

With the husband/father person out of town, I decided we deserved a couple of hours off and we set off to the movie theater. Both the kids have been loving the previews for Happy Feet and it looked like something I could enjoy (with the bonus of the Harry Potter trailer in the previews).It is a very cute movie. I honestly didn't even recognize Hugh Jackman's voice, he did such a good job at

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-46590332145764648542006-11-16T16:27:00.000-05:002006-11-16T16:41:04.471-05:00

One more post for the day (on a roll, huh?)Recently I left a group I have been in for years. I got to the point that seeing interactions/non-interactions was a negative experience to me. Let me emphasize: to me. It's all about my perception and what I could handle. Individually, they are fantastic women. Even as a group, just wonderful. But the particular dynamics weren't something I could

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-54570435128318822582006-11-16T12:26:00.000-05:002006-11-16T12:30:15.272-05:00

I just wanted to make clear, I am not throwing a pity party. Part of what throws me about myself is the fact that things could have been so much worse, yet I am still so messed up.I know and have seen people who had so much more go wrong in their lives, and yet they are so together. I just don't get what is in me that I can't do the same.My heart goes out to all the little children in people

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-50045994367669462652006-11-16T10:42:00.000-05:002006-11-16T10:53:43.971-05:00

Somehow, no matter what steps I try to take to make myself healthier, it seems like I just contribute to staying as I am. I accept who I am. I don't like it, so I try to change. The problem is the act of change when habits are so deeply ingrained. Do I purge, letting everything out and wash over me like a tidal wave? Will that release and cleanse me in such a way that I can move on, move past

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-65461549620913916182006-11-15T20:22:00.000-05:002006-11-15T20:27:03.536-05:00

You know how it feels when you have a big choice to make, right? The kind where nothing feels right, there's no real answer?Well, I get so wrapped up in the act of making the choice itself that I forget what it feels like when the choice is made. It's a huge relief. You know you'll have second thoughts later and maybe regrets, but until then, nothing feels better than having the weight of

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-90381731657809593812006-11-13T19:10:00.000-05:002006-11-16T07:41:42.301-05:00

I look at the women in my life, past and present, to discover who I want to be.I want to be like my Gram, who had so much affection in her marriage, even as her life faded from her, her love for Boompa was still strong. She saw who I really am and still loved me. I still hold her unconditional love to my heart. Her life was sometimes the only thing that kept me alive and her death nearly broke

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-72500820977165087912006-11-13T16:39:00.000-05:002006-11-13T18:16:06.675-05:00

At barely 19, I started out in this new, parent-free phase of my life. They didn't contribute anything to my life, material or otherwise at first. It's actually sad how easily detached we all were. But again, there I was, starting an entire life over with new people and new responsibilities. I was overwhelmed and that's when the depression really started to grow. It was like a snake, each

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-30215255885939436772006-11-13T13:45:00.001-05:002006-11-13T16:02:27.421-05:00

One Christmas, after Dad was remarried, we went for a visit. Suddenly he was more present and even my stepmom was fun. I wasn't someone to be tolerated or packed away to be ignored. I remember getting on the plane, crying. Watching dad through the window, his head in his arms sobbing. I was loved- well, we were loved, but for once I felt like part of it.That summer, I experienced what other

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-60345350887200865212006-11-13T10:18:00.000-05:002006-11-13T18:16:29.904-05:00

When my parents were married, I remember being a normal kid for the family life we had. I tried hard to make my parents happy. Mom never seemed pleased. Dad did, but then he was rarely home. Words like TDY and graveyard shift only meant, to me, that I didn't see daddy. Back in those days, there wasn't a phrase called "quality time", so when I did, he was hanging out with friends, working on

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-54819401292808754212006-11-09T15:38:00.000-05:002006-11-09T15:42:43.323-05:00

Some days, when I appear all peaceful inside, underneath feelings are churning so much I can't even tell one from another. It's when I want to connect with someone else, but I don't know who or how. When you can't even name what's going on to yourself, how can you talk about it with someone else?I've been told I overthink things, and I'm sure that's right. I suppose though, that I would rather

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-84918402520459161292006-11-04T18:07:00.000-05:002006-11-04T19:33:33.840-05:00

So when we were young, the thing to do was make mix tapes. I remember taping directly from the radio, pausing between songs, trying not to have duplicates. As I got older, they became jokes, "What, you made him a mix tape?" *sneer*Now, in these days of technology, we make mix CDs, or possibly mix iPod playlists. Gone are the days of going through tapes, syncing up and trying to rewind those

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-53216354857485059542006-10-22T13:40:00.000-05:002006-10-22T13:47:18.132-05:00

It's that time again. I already have one Fyrebranded Kozy up for auction, this is a preview of one that will be ready at the end of the week. Inspired by my time looking out our upstairs window while living in Hawaii, I wanted a moonscape, yet I kept the colors the sea breathes during the daytime:

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-46381205492858158772006-10-21T21:16:00.000-05:002006-10-24T08:00:38.173-05:00

I decided on a simpler Fyrebranded Kozy this time. It's a panel, the hardest part was getting the dye right. Why so simple? Because I have a harder one set out, waiting for the onerous job of stitching every line ;)The colors are very much richer IRL:

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1633565734034325032006-10-16T08:36:00.000-05:002006-10-16T18:06:03.734-05:00

http://www.boardsmag.com/screeningroom/commercials/3421/There are more and more "the man behind the curtain" sites these days, but I think this video from Dove really makes it real, esp. for the younger crowd. What got me is the photo editing of an already beautiful woman.I shudder to think that my daughter will grow up in a world that compares her to these hybrid cyber-models. I can only

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-7649780048939793082006-10-05T16:10:00.000-05:002006-10-05T16:20:09.768-05:00

While searching for 'treats' to add to this blog, I came across some of my favorite pictures of the monkeys. Just as a reminder of what makes everything worth anything, a photo post:

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-35239444655579270362006-10-05T14:39:00.000-05:002006-10-05T14:52:02.730-05:00

I wish I could just do that and take care of things. I am so tired of the day in day out taking care of other people- other people who seem bent on undoing everything I accomplish.Never a clean houseNever a full nights sleepNever a request listened toNever aloneIt's the last one that gets to me. I'm never alone yet usually lonely. I don't have whatever connections I need to feel complete. And yes

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1160077125173970452006-10-05T14:33:00.000-05:002006-10-22T13:40:04.789-05:00

I am 'reprinting' the following article, because often articles like this vanish from cyberspace.Carry Me!Good for you, good for your baby. So why don’t we do it more? By Teresa PitmanLenore Kilmartin is convinced that carrying her baby saved his life. “OK, maybe the doctors who did the surgery also had something to do with it,” she concedes. “But I have no doubts that being carried

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1159641079356657682006-09-30T13:27:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:59:47.595-05:00

That's what I'm feeling like. I have things to do, ways to keep my mind occupied, but I feel kind of floaty in a part of myself. Like something or someone is missing from my life and I can't figure out what. Bumpbumpbumpsloooooooooooowshteept, just floating along, away from me and I don't know what it is.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1158356895169928862006-09-15T16:31:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:59:17.282-05:00

This is my stained glass Kozy, appliqued silk on a black Kozy body. I got the inspiration from a Georgia O'Keefe painting. I can't find the exact one, but it started out kind of like the one to the left.My skills being limited, and my medium being a bit less blendy (is that a word?) I just used the idea instead of the wonderful pastels. The brown frame is actually more goldish and the blue is

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1157983581329828162006-09-11T09:05:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:58:42.680-05:00

Five years and I still cry remembering it. I told myself not to think about it, but how can you not? I think about how much I hurt and can't even imagine what it's like for those that were directly affected. The only thing that comforted me that day was just as I was falling to sleep, I had this vision of thousands of spots of life being welcomed into heaven.I was at home, eating cereal and

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1157778730554669762006-09-08T23:42:00.002-05:002006-10-22T13:39:29.367-05:00

Actually, it has been a recurring dream. I'm lying down, all I can see is what's in my line of site. I can only move my head, my body doesn't seem to do what I want it too. I can't get up, I can't walk. For some reason, even words don't work for me. All I can do is cry, my lungs bursting, throat hurting and tears streaming across my face as I turn my head frantically from side to side,

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1157687673706681212006-09-07T22:36:00.000-05:002006-11-23T18:09:44.212-05:00

Two revelations today. The first was that if I had stuck to Weight Watchers I'd be my ideal weight by now. Or at least at a plateau near my ideal weight.At the steady-ish 2lbs a week I was losing, I could be within spitting distance of a body I can live with in 6mos and a body I can be proud of in a year. Isn't that much better than hating myself for squeezing into clothes, because the fear of

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1157209022552099962006-09-02T09:29:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:56:52.261-05:00

Read this marker and tell me if you see anything wrong with it.On a recent visit to Harper's Ferry, my husband and I paused to read what we thought would be a heartfelt tribute to some historical moment or person. We found this to be hysterical instead. What also amused us is that when we laughed, we were looked at like we were crazy or insensitive. I suppose if your interest wandered and you

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1156685275482395912006-08-27T08:00:00.000-05:002006-11-23T18:14:25.298-05:00

Sometimes the answer is harder to find than the question. I was going through J's old pictures yesterday, reliving her early- well, her first year. Looking at the first family pictures, at 2weeks old, J already had bad baby acne. I remember scheduling the pictures then because I was hoping we'd do it before the acne set in. I read in The Baby Book that early onset of baby acne could be a sign

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1156263465948914872006-08-22T11:10:00.000-05:002007-02-11T20:28:23.350-05:00

I've decided I need a Healingway. What's that you might ask. I'm in the midst of planning a Blessingway for a friend. As I do this, I think about my other friends and their experiences. One that still has so many knots because of her birth experience, one because the dream of a healthy child is gone. Then I thought, if they need a healingway, we could do one for everyone. What would mine be

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1155758295540875142006-08-16T14:41:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:54:58.509-05:00

What are friends worth to you? What do you expect out of them? What do you expect to give to them?Me, I have always wanted people to feel close to, but so many times I thought I was there and things fell short of my expectations that I just hold back now.What would be my dream friendship? That I could come to a person in any state of mind and be assured that I am not wasting their time or

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1155686229530976212006-08-15T18:46:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:54:35.609-05:00

I've noticed that when the kids are stressing me out, I've been retreating to my craft room to create things. Mostly it's been sewing, but I have other crafts in mind too. Pete was gone for a week and in that time I:hemmed the curtains (Ikea curtains come long and need to be cut/hemmed)made myself a skirtmade Chase a pair of Incredibles PJ pantsmade a skirt for Jillymade a slingdecorated a

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1155216242746962572006-08-10T08:20:00.000-05:002006-11-23T18:16:05.289-05:00

I was supposed to go hang out with a friend today, but I can't. I just keep coming up with reasons why I can't leave the house. I'm honestly trying to force myself, but I just can't seem to. J is sick, but that's just part of it. She's acting ok, just a cough.I am so down, and it is such a habit to be alone I just can't seem to break it. How do you break a habit that's been years in the

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1154966483670903632006-08-07T10:16:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:52:51.396-05:00

Babywearing is for creepy weirdos. The only possible reason to babywear is because you are afraid of letting go of them at all.I've been told that this particular newspaper prides itself on the irreverent sharing of the news. This is par for the course. Maybe. Of the articles I have skimmed, I have yet to see anything this caustic.I can only conclude that this was written by someone who not

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1154875456316350962006-08-06T09:32:00.000-05:002006-11-23T18:16:57.984-05:00

Does this happen with every second child? I need persepective.This keeps coming back to me. More recently because I was looking for something for C and pulled out his baby book and baby box. Shuffling through the cards welcoming him to the world, I couldn't help but get teary eyed thinking what J's box would look like when she wanted to see it years from now. Two cards.It's not the amount,

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1154647170268109582006-08-03T17:13:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:51:37.352-05:00

Yup, that's me. First the depression thing, now breastfeeding. It's World Breastfeeding week and I am finding that I need to reclaim my pride in the choices we have made for the family.Of course, this isn't a huge coming out as not many read my blog. But it's not something I talk about much unless I know the person I am talking to understands.We're a breastfeeding family. Not just a couple-

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1150898104577001832006-06-21T08:20:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:51:06.119-05:00

It feels like my whole life, I've been sad. So sad that when a conflict arises, I immediately shut down, unable to deal with it. The thought hits me, "This will never end, I will ALWAYS feel like my heart is being ripped out. I might as well end it."I can't remember a time when suicide didn't have some sort of appeal. I think my first half-hearted attempt was at 12yo, after a particularly

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1150830748282337872006-06-20T14:10:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:50:43.303-05:00

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1150820646671037972006-06-20T11:14:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:50:16.843-05:00

i fixed it- just switched to a new template. now what pearls of wisdom will I drop?I have so many things I think about then I forget in the day to day activities.celebrity gossip:did it strike anyone else as a coincidence (slightly ironic) that on Friends, Anniston's character had a vaginal birth w/ a breech baby. And IRL Jolie had a c-section w/ a footling breech (the tv baby was butt first

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1149892396106389362006-06-09T17:32:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:49:17.201-05:00

all my angst is being wasted! ;)

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1144330502444814472006-04-06T08:33:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:48:02.160-05:00

utterly boring: the quirky things that try to make life interestingin one week of walking to school to pick up my son, i saw a few odd sights.first, the dead squirrel wearing mardi gras beads made me pause for a moment and contimplate life.was this just a random dead squirrel roadkill and random beads tossed from a car window? did someone deliberately deck the stiff squirrel out in party beads?

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1140267927109488482006-02-18T08:01:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:46:58.607-05:00

Posted to the MDC BBS and I want to (eventually) share with my friends so they can 'get me'I have started a post here I don't know how many times. This is the only place I can think of to find others who have not only BTDT, but are knowledgable about alternatives.My intro. I used to post here, mainly in the HI section of finding your tribe...somehow all my posts got wiped. Sorry for how long this

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1147749831318734092004-10-01T22:22:00.000-05:002006-11-23T18:08:00.245-05:00

The BeginningI had a scheduled midwife appointment on Tuesday, the 21st of September. They were only allowed to let me go two weeks past due and this was my one week past appointment. We were going to discuss what natural ways we could try to get labor jump started. DH was of the opinion I was in labor the whole time and just didn’t realize it and the baby would be born by the end of the day. He

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1147749753004256142004-05-15T22:21:00.000-05:002007-01-21T18:19:29.808-05:00

What?There's a book that was put out before, called the Mom-to-Mom Guide to the Baby Years. It involved a series of surveys that were compiled into a book. I'm ashamed to say, I made it into the book. Ashamed because my most doofus answers were in that book.They've created another one and this time around it's going to be actually distributed in bookstores. If it's like the first, I wouldn't put

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1147749568763266652003-11-09T21:09:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:44:22.688-05:00

Today is the 14th Anniversary of the Berlin Wall coming down. That means it's my friend Barbie's 30th birthday.I remember in high school, she wrote an essay about it and how it came down on her 16th birthday. It meant so much to her, living in Germany and seeing the wall just a few years before.Barbie had a spirit. She still had it the last time I saw her about 5 years ago. Just changed some.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1147748005991773472003-11-09T21:08:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:42:26.946-05:00

Growing up, I liked the moving about. I liked seeing new places and meeting new people. Even as shy as I was, I always made a few good friends. But now, moves are harder for me. It takes longer to find where I fit, and when I do and then move, it's that much harder to let go and start over. But my problem is, I have found that it's SO true. You can't go home again.

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523385.post-1147749457188292902003-11-08T10:29:00.000-05:002006-10-24T07:41:55.807-05:00

So many parents are stuck on the idea that they have to make their children independent. An entire industry has sprung up from the desire. Cribs, swings, bouncy seats...I could go on and on. All of these designed to seperate a child from its parent.Books are written about how to get your child to be independent. So many parents let their tiny infants cry themselves to sleep because they "have

Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04914207305718461825noreply@blogger.com0