<?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-193802459744413706</id><updated>2012-02-10T07:44:43.568-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Washing  Dishes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>99</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3369409404680127695</id><published>2012-02-08T12:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T16:29:41.547-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that annoy me (I'm allowed - I'm pregnant)</title><content type='html'>1. Being called a babysitter. I run a business. It's a daycare. I am 29 years old, not a teenage babysitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Being asked to supply muffins for the teachers at the school, while running said daycare, while pregnant, on a day when my son is not in school, (and feeling like I cannot say no) when I know there are plenty of other mom's who are not as busy as I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. People assuming because I work at home, I don't actually work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Small children crying outside my door while I try to have some semblance of privacy and go pee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. "Window's Technicians" calling at 7:30 in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. People assuming because it's been almost 3 years that I am "over" my dad's death. Do me a favour - just imagine your dad died completely unexpected. Think about it for a minute. Then tell me how you might feel... (even three years later)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. When people call me during drop -off and pick-up times, and wonder why I'm frazzled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Having to confirm appointments I've already made. I should only have to call to cancel. grrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. When people post what they've just Pinned on Facebook. If I wanted to see what you've pinned I would follow you on Pinterest. (I will write a whole post on Pinterest at some point)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Spelling mistakes in books and on websites. Especially small business sites - get someone to proofread your stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. My eye that has been twitching for three days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3369409404680127695?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3369409404680127695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2012/02/things-that-annoy-me-im-allowed-im.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3369409404680127695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3369409404680127695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2012/02/things-that-annoy-me-im-allowed-im.html' title='Things that annoy me (I&apos;m allowed - I&apos;m pregnant)'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5504822601362142072</id><published>2012-01-23T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T14:10:54.755-08:00</updated><title type='text'>money money money</title><content type='html'>I am trying to put money away each month for when I have no income. But am worried that we aren't going to be able to pay all of our bills come summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would not consider myself someone who is frivolous with money. But I would say we spend what we make for the most part these days. We get the groceries we want (although we need to have a LOT of food when running a daycare), we go out regularly. We bought our kids some toys for Christmas, we have two vehicles that we fill with gas every week and get take-out on occasion (especially these days when I have no energy to cook after a full day with kids)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do remember what it is like to be poor. To not be able to afford toilet paper or toothpaste or the food you want (meat!) or go out with friends for supper. So I try not to waste money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do not have cable, we pay 7.99 for Netflix every month and that is all. We do not have new furniture, neither of us goes for regular haircuts or salon visits, I don't have gel nails, we get hand-me-downs for our kids (still buy the occasional clothing item but not a whole lot), we do not go shopping every weekend or get Starbucks everyday, I didn't buy a whole new maternity wardrobe - I borrowed clothes from friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do not go on holidays every year. We have never been anywhere tropical. However we do go visit family at least every other year in Nova Scotia, but stay with family and apart from flights, don't spend very much money while we are there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We bought our van second-hand with cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use coupons and usually shop at Costco or Extra Foods (when they have their discount days).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am seriously considering a diaper service for the baby when she is born. It is $27 a week, which is less than disposable diapers. I know I would not be able to keep up with laundry if I were using my own cloth diapers. I can barely keep on top of laundry right now as it is. So this is a possible option for us. The service is already driving out to where we live, so it would just be one more quick stop for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am running out of ideas though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just need to think of more ideas and look at our budget and ways to cut it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5504822601362142072?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5504822601362142072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2012/01/money-money-money.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5504822601362142072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5504822601362142072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2012/01/money-money-money.html' title='money money money'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2845315228786482142</id><published>2012-01-11T08:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T10:56:16.457-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another January</title><content type='html'>6 posts in the last year. That's pretty bad. So I doubt anyone checks this anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I miss blogging, other times I just don't care. I really don't have time to just sit down and write, but on the other hand it would probably be good for me to get some thoughts out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am halfway through my third pregnancy. I don't remember a lot from my last pregnancy. My dad died when I was at this stage with my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;I measured 6 weeks ahead at my past appointment and apparently did when I was pregnant with my daughter too but have no recollection of this. It's strange and I also feel guilty. With my son I kept track of everything and did for the first part with my daughter but then stopped. I just did not have the energy. And now with this one, I just haven't had time. And honestly sometimes forget that I am even pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to believe that in March it will be three years since my dad died. Three years since I saw him, hugged him, heard his voice. It's gone by very fast yet very slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to present day, I've been running a daycare out of our house since May. It's been good but hard. Lately I have been feeling really cooped up. I think just being stuck inside almost all the time is getting to me. It's been a warm winter, and we have gone outside to play but you still can't be outside all day long. And I won't drive with all the kids. We don't have enough carseats and I don't want that responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;So here we stay, trying to keep the kids entertained with books, colouring, toys and snacks. (and the occasional Sesame Street or Diego episode)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I don't qualify for a mat leave, realistically and financially I can only take four months off when the baby comes. This is frustrating as I would love to be able to just have a year at home with just my kids. But we made this choice when I quit my job and we moved into this house. And I am very thankful for the house we live in and everything we have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been nice to have a bathroom on the same floor as our bedroom and to not have to go down a steep of stairs six times a night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, not much else going on right now. Trying to figure life out and enjoy it. Trying to not rush through the day so I can go to sleep , but to spend quality time with my children while I only have the two. Trying to be happy with all the blessings I have and not envious of other's lives. Trying to not think too much about all that my dad is missing here on earth.&lt;br /&gt;Trying to love Jesus and not continue questioning why our family has had to go through this heartache. Trying to appreciate that other's have it way worse and we were so lucky to have him for the time we did. Trying to enjoy the family that is here and love them.&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep trying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2845315228786482142?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2845315228786482142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2012/01/another-january.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2845315228786482142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2845315228786482142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2012/01/another-january.html' title='Another January'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3745761890769017329</id><published>2011-10-11T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T07:35:14.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>8 years</title><content type='html'>Wow! It's been awhile. However I was blog snooping today and see that most of my friends who have blogs have also been neglecting theirs, so I don't feel too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a summer it's been. Actually what a year. Seriously. If you told me a year ago that I would be living in a different house and running a daycare I never would have believed it. What a crazy year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was our &lt;strong&gt;8th Anniversary&lt;/strong&gt; yesterday and &lt;a href="http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/6-years-already.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;this post&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/a&gt;still rings true.&lt;br /&gt;So now it is 8 years, two houses, three kids, a minivan (something we said we'd never get!) two new jobs and too many events to name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out for supper last night and were talking about what life was like when first got married. It's funny how we thought life was so stressful, yet we had a nice apartment and made a decent amount of money, could pay all of our bills and had no kids or a house to worry about.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish we could go back to that time and just enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;But that is how life goes. It's all perspective now.&lt;br /&gt;Sure it was stressful being newlyweds when none of our other friends were married, I worked two jobs and was going to University. But I still wish I could go back and tell my 21 year old self to just relax and enjoy things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the lesson is to just live in the moment. Not to worry about tomorrow and to enjoy life. Because you never know what's going to happen. And worrying never changes a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Happy 8 years to my wonderful husband. I am SO thankful for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3745761890769017329?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3745761890769017329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/10/8-years.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3745761890769017329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3745761890769017329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/10/8-years.html' title='8 years'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3322636002402704632</id><published>2011-05-10T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T20:10:54.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>thoughts</title><content type='html'>We moved. We are settling into our new house. Life has been insanely busy and I barely have a moment to read blogs let alone write in my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here are some random thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 year old house vs 102 year old house = awesome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have too much stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toddlers are hilarious. My daughter is adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My four year old is so ready for school. He is driving me crazy (in a good way) with questions. Yet he declares that he "knows everything"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope our old house sells soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to see our nephew and meet our niece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love summer weather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have amazing friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a breath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So blessed to be a mom and have a great mom, grandmas and mother in law&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Chai lattes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many people need help. What can I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never catch up on laundry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray without ceasing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister in law is a good listener and I complain to her too much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband loves me. No matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus does want us to be happy. And to love unconditionally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heaven is really real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am So blessed. I cannot take anything for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is going crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is all you need.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3322636002402704632?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3322636002402704632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/05/thoughts.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3322636002402704632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3322636002402704632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/05/thoughts.html' title='thoughts'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-9115874507812790133</id><published>2011-04-04T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T09:09:21.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We have no idea...</title><content type='html'>Ten years ago I attended a DTS (discipleship training school) through YWAM in Scotland.&lt;br /&gt;For the outreach portion of the school I went to Izmir, Turkey for two months. We worked alongside a missionary couple there who spent a lot of time working in the slums of Izmir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a lot of time with one family in particular. They were very poor. They had a two room apartment where the grandma, grandpa, mom and three little girls lived. The Grandpa had throat cancer and could no longer speak, and he made a bit of money selling balloons on the waterfront. The mom had to prostitute herself out when they ran out of money. I had never been around such poverty before. And the family accepted me as one of their own and loved me to bits. They were so friendly and loving. They always made me cay (chai tea) and always wanted me to eat whatever little bit of food they had. They had so little and shared it so willingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The missionary couple were from Denmark and moved to Izmir with their two small children. They learned Turkish and gave up their comfy life in Denmark to move to Turkey to share Jesus with the people in Turkey. They are an amazing family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have received updates from this family for the past ten years. They have gone through some very tough times. Yet, they stay in Turkey and serve the people there because that is what they have been called to do.&lt;br /&gt;I received an email from them today. They have been working with a church in the red light distract of Izmir and the other day a man attacked the pastor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an excerpt of the email:&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;This Friday there was an evening of worship, and unfortunately we couldn’t be there. But at some time during the evening, our pastor was standing in front of the church, talking to a Turkish man, when a young man approached them, pulled a gun and started firing it at our pastor. The gun was shooting with blanks, but since they didn’t know that, they were shocked. Then the man pulled a rifle and wanted to shoot at them with that, but after they got over the shock they jumped upon him, tackled him and held him down. He managed to fire the rifle once, and it was loaded with real bullets, so it was only in the last second that they saved their lives. Besides the gun and rifle, the man also had pepperspray, smokebombs, a knife, and two guns with rubber bullets. They police came and took him away, and now we have a guard in front of the door when we are gathering. Every Sunday, since we started joining the meetings, there have been people making problems and noise in front of the church. This is a reality we face every day here, we never know when we can be attacked by a religious fanatic, but we pray to God for protection and boldness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading this made me so thankful for the freedom to go to church on a Sunday and not to have to fear for my safety.&lt;br /&gt;We have no idea how dangerous it can be in other countries. We are so blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we need to remember to pray for those who are living in other places...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slum in Izmir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pIKv01BsBCI/TZnstTjKySI/AAAAAAAABas/VnYf4p6K3w8/s1600/turkey%2Bslum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 183px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pIKv01BsBCI/TZnstTjKySI/AAAAAAAABas/VnYf4p6K3w8/s400/turkey%2Bslum.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591760675443231010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bazaar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-55CvHtNgZYc/TZnstEkJHuI/AAAAAAAABak/ziN6i6wsW0c/s1600/bazaar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-55CvHtNgZYc/TZnstEkJHuI/AAAAAAAABak/ziN6i6wsW0c/s400/bazaar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591760671420784354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-9115874507812790133?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/9115874507812790133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/04/we-have-no-idea.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/9115874507812790133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/9115874507812790133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/04/we-have-no-idea.html' title='We have no idea...'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pIKv01BsBCI/TZnstTjKySI/AAAAAAAABas/VnYf4p6K3w8/s72-c/turkey%2Bslum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-6302743838370917378</id><published>2011-03-30T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T08:03:35.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ch ch ch changes</title><content type='html'>Bad blogger, I know. I kind of forgot I had a blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much has happened in the last two months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our daycare provider informed us that she would be moving in the summer. This came as a surprise and also a blessing in disguise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been needing a change from work and the way life is now. I've been the community librarian for the past 6 years and while I love my job and the people I get to interact with, I've lost my energy for it.&lt;br /&gt;So, we decided that if we could find the right house I would quit my job and stay home with our children and start a little daycare myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting kids to fill my daycare has proven very easy. I already have 11 part-time kids. All of whom I know their parents and know that the kids are great and will get along with mine. Which of course is top priority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finding the right house was more of a challenge. We looked at almost every house that was for sale in town. Every one that was in our price range was terrible. Smelled like smoke (or worse), was lived in by someone being charged with murder (true story),  needed tons of repairs or didn't have a basement and was very tiny.&lt;br /&gt;Finally we looked at one that was over our budget -  and it was perfect. Two years old, unfinished huge basement with big windows (perfect for a daycare), lovely kitchen, an ensuite (be still my heart - I've been dreaming of a bathroom on the same level for 7 years now!), nice size yard with great deck, wonderful neighbours, attached garage etc etc (and did I mention wonderful neighbours?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, with some help from my wonderful mother, my friend who is a mortgage broker and running numbers over and over again (looking after one or two kids every weekday) it will be possible.&lt;br /&gt;So we put an offer in. And got our house!&lt;br /&gt;Then I gave my notice and the search is on for another librarian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all happened very quickly, but I know God is in control. So I'm trying not to feel overwhelmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get possession next week! We'll paint, move in and then fix up our 102 year old house (with some help from my wonderful uncle, brother and rest of my family) then hopefully sell our old house fairly quickly. And get on with things!&lt;br /&gt;I hope to start taking kids in May once we're settled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are so excited to have a house where we'll be able to have people over for BBQ's and gatherings. I'm even having my whole family over for Easter supper!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling so blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aVpDhvusl4I/TZNFcR7dL4I/AAAAAAAABac/Ar-T-9Z4DbU/s1600/kitchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aVpDhvusl4I/TZNFcR7dL4I/AAAAAAAABac/Ar-T-9Z4DbU/s400/kitchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589887914648350594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention I get a fabulous kitchen! I am dreaming of all the lovely cookies and treats and bread and meals that my kids and I will prepare in this kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;Walk in pantry, normal size stove (I have an apartment size one in right now), huge fridge, big window, open with enough room for more than one person at a time!&lt;br /&gt;I cannot wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-6302743838370917378?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/6302743838370917378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/03/ch-ch-ch-changes.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6302743838370917378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6302743838370917378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/03/ch-ch-ch-changes.html' title='ch ch ch changes'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aVpDhvusl4I/TZNFcR7dL4I/AAAAAAAABac/Ar-T-9Z4DbU/s72-c/kitchen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-9028111011973028618</id><published>2011-02-11T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T15:47:04.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspective</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RmaWv9jjxcw/TVXKRJBhKgI/AAAAAAAABaU/GdQRK2_4zKA/s1600/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RmaWv9jjxcw/TVXKRJBhKgI/AAAAAAAABaU/GdQRK2_4zKA/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572582509769730562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I've been reading quite a few blogs about loss and grief and faith. You never know when things will change drastically. It can happen in a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is a Breath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little perspective is a good thing. I am beyond blessed. I have so much to be thankful for. I had my dad for 26 years and even though I am sad, I need to remember to count my blessings. And also to enjoy the family and friends I do have here - not always be longing for the ones that are gone. There is always someone who has it much worse than me.&lt;br /&gt;In the grand scheme of things, our family has had it pretty good. Everyone experiences loss at some point. It's just a matter of when...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://alittlestone.blogspot.com/"&gt;Becky&lt;/a&gt; also lost her dad recently and blogged one day about how we need to remember our blessings despite our sadness and grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.howcantheyhear.org/?p=2705"&gt;How Can They Hear&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;is heartbreaking and inspiring. They just lost their daughter. I cannot imagine how painful that must be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a family member of some friends. &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.gillianb-journeying.blogspot.com/"&gt;Journeying&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;is an amazing woman who lost her husband in a car crash. Her children were all severely injured but are on the mend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://lamentationsandjoy.blogspot.com/"&gt;mom&lt;/a&gt;. What can I say? I love her and am so grateful for her. As I've said before, to see her remain rooted in faith, be a single parent at this stage of the game to my 10 year old sister (also to my brother and I), Grandma to five others, and to continue teaching and active in her career is amazing and also inspiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A blog written by &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://widowsvoice-sslf.blogspot.com/"&gt;different widows&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman named &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://sweetcarolinebaby.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bonnie&lt;/a&gt; who lost her husband while pregnant with their second child&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A grieving &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://sadandchara.blogspot.com/"&gt;husband and father&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard not to be feel a little depressed when reading all of these. But it's also hard not to be encouraged, inspired and uplifted too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, be encouraged and inspired. And count your blessings. One by one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://sadandchara.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-9028111011973028618?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/9028111011973028618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/02/perspective.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/9028111011973028618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/9028111011973028618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/02/perspective.html' title='Perspective'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RmaWv9jjxcw/TVXKRJBhKgI/AAAAAAAABaU/GdQRK2_4zKA/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-6476235532075185340</id><published>2011-01-31T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T11:50:18.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Precious</title><content type='html'>In the Grief Share group I did last year, they talked about Miracle Moments. Times when you get a glimpse of Heaven or something that is a reminder from the person you have lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUcLyna6L6I/AAAAAAAABZ4/DayvJsJB4cg/s1600/IMG_7354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUcLyna6L6I/AAAAAAAABZ4/DayvJsJB4cg/s400/IMG_7354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568432428470120354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My dad left this note in my Bible right before I was baptized when I was 17.&lt;br /&gt;It has always been one of my favourite verses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always kept the note right there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I found it after he died, I fell apart. But now it is one tangible thing that I can look at whenever I need to.&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful to have something with his handwriting on it, and for the verse itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is one of my most precious possessions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUcOza4505I/AAAAAAAABaI/GKByMDB8v8Q/s1600/IMG_7356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUcOza4505I/AAAAAAAABaI/GKByMDB8v8Q/s400/IMG_7356.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568435740821017490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also found a note in my dad's wallet with this verse written on it after he died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was included in Rick's message at the funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 id="passage_heading"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;h2 id="passage_heading"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;h2 id="passage_heading"&gt;Isaiah 41:10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; So do not fear, for I am with you; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;   do not be dismayed, for I am your God. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I will strengthen you and help you; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;   I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am struggling right now.&lt;br /&gt;Some friends lost their dad last week after a long battle with cancer. My heart breaks for them.&lt;br /&gt; It seems there is heartache everywhere I turn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet there is hope. Which I cling to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 id="passage_heading"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;h2 id="passage_heading"&gt;1 Thessalonians 4:13 (The Message)&lt;/h2&gt;  &lt;h5&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal; font-style: italic;"&gt;And  regarding the question, friends, that has come up about what happens to  those already dead and buried, we don't want you in the dark any  longer. First off, you must not carry on over them like people who have  nothing to look forward to, as if the grave were the last word. Since  Jesus died and broke loose from the grave, God will most certainly bring  back to life those who died in Jesus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h5&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-6476235532075185340?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/6476235532075185340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/01/precious.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6476235532075185340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6476235532075185340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/01/precious.html' title='Precious'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUcLyna6L6I/AAAAAAAABZ4/DayvJsJB4cg/s72-c/IMG_7354.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2572777661116145781</id><published>2011-01-27T07:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T09:09:49.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Deals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUGlbyCGj8I/AAAAAAAABZQ/xP8RgiCOoZA/s1600/shoe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 260px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUGlbyCGj8I/AAAAAAAABZQ/xP8RgiCOoZA/s400/shoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566912511112286146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my latest addiction - searching for deals online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't buy a lot. But have got a few really good deals:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- a fair trade, organic cotton adorable dress for my daughter for $12.50.&lt;br /&gt;-awesome &lt;a href="http://www.autonomieproject.com/"&gt;Autonomie Project&lt;/a&gt; Fair Trade Sneakers with organic cotton and sustainable soles for $25 total (shipping included)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;a href="http://www.ecobumz.com/"&gt;Ecobumz&lt;/a&gt; organic bamboo, AIO cloth diapers for $12 each (just waiting not-so-patiently for my washer to be installed by a plumber so they can be washed to try them out. The joys of living in a century old house with OLD plumbing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUGl1-EN68I/AAAAAAAABZY/8ouezK-dzL0/s1600/diaper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 389px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUGl1-EN68I/AAAAAAAABZY/8ouezK-dzL0/s400/diaper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566912961018981314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-half priced amber necklace to try for my teething daughter because I was too cheap to pay full price for something I wasn't convinced would work. I do think it has helped though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some points to remember before buying:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Deal a day sites can actually be bad for your budget. They’re   all    about buying on impulse. They create a sense of don’t-miss-out     urgency  that’s hard to resist. Take a few deep breaths before you buy     and ask  yourself these three questions:&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Can  actually use the  item? If not, it’s not a bargain at all.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Is there a  possibility  you’ll want to return the item? All sales are final at  some sites.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Is  it still a deal after you factor in shipping costs?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Keep  in mind that some of the items may be final sale (no returns).    Read up  on the site’s return/exchange policy before you buy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do a quick  price comp to make sure you’re getting the deal you think you are.&lt;a href="http://www.jasmere.com/referral/777781e1%3EJasmere.com%3C/a%3E:%20check%20back%20soon%3Cbr%3E%3C/li%3E%3C/ul%3E%3Cspan%20style="&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shipping  timelines on some items may be extended.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are some of the sites I look at&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mamabargains.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Mamabargains&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.ecobabybuys.com/" target="_blank"&gt;EcoBabyBuys&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://babyhalfoff.com/" target="_blank"&gt;BabyHalfOff&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://babysteals.com/"&gt;BabySteals&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kidsteals.com/" target="_blank"&gt;KidSteals&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.babyheist.com/category_1/Heist-of-the-Day.htm" target="_blank"&gt;BabyHeist&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hippobargains.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Hippo Bargains&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.oliviaplace.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Olivia Place&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://minibargainz.com/" target="_blank"&gt;MiniBargainz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Some of my talented friends have started their own businesses! Check these out and shop locally!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://threeleafdesigns.blogspot.com/"&gt;Three Leaf Designs&lt;/a&gt; specializes in eco friendly, organic or alpaca (sometimes local yarn) hats. Children and adult hats available for custom orders. Amy's hats are gorgeous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://oddduckcreations.blogspot.com/"&gt;Odd Duck Creations&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;makes  handmade custom hats, diaper bags, and accessories made to fit your own  personal style. Karis can pretty much make anything you ask her to! I  gave her a picture of shoes I liked and she made some for my daughter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="content" class="hfeed"&gt;&lt;div class="fpb_media"&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/193802459744413706-2572777661116145781?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2572777661116145781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/01/good-deals.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2572777661116145781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2572777661116145781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/01/good-deals.html' title='Good Deals'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TUGlbyCGj8I/AAAAAAAABZQ/xP8RgiCOoZA/s72-c/shoe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3755494428609500886</id><published>2011-01-24T15:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T16:17:52.515-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yummy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TT4WpBHvIQI/AAAAAAAABZI/ZD26l0t5o10/s1600/muffin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 167px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TT4WpBHvIQI/AAAAAAAABZI/ZD26l0t5o10/s400/muffin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565911083407843586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We made &lt;a href="http://ciaoflorentina.com/2010/11/20/blueberry-and-ricotta-muffins-recipe/"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt; today and I have to say they are some of the best muffins I have ever made. And I make a lot of muffins. It's an easy breakfast or take to work food. Plus my kids will always eat them.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The ricotta cheese makes them so goooood! They don't taste cheesy though.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I cut the sugar down to 1/2 cup instead of 3/4 cup and they were definitely still sweet enough. I only had frozen blueberries and they worked just as well. Just make sure not to add them until the very end. It also made more than a dozen, so you could fill the cups up more or just make more muffins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Make sure you do the streusel topping!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Blueberry and Ricotta Muffins Recipe&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;( makes 12 )&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dry Ingredients:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 1/2 c flour&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;3/4 c sugar&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/2 tsp sea salt&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 tsp baking powder&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wet ingredients:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/3 c canola oil&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;5 Tbs whole milk&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 tsp vanilla extract&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 egg&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;3/4 c ricotta cheese&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 c fresh blueberries&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Streusel Topping:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/4 c sugar&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 tbs flour&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 tbs butter&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; Mix the dry ingredients and the wet ingredients  separately then using a spatula stir the two together until  incorporated.  Don’t over mix.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. &lt;/strong&gt; Fold in the blueberries then fill 12 muffin  silicone cups 3/4 of the way full.  Top with 1 tbs of streusel topping  if desired or just sprinkle some sugar on top then bake @ 375″F for 20  min or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.&lt;/strong&gt; Cool in the muffin cups on a wire rack for 10 min.  Turn upside down and the muffins will slide out&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3755494428609500886?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3755494428609500886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/01/yummy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3755494428609500886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3755494428609500886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2011/01/yummy.html' title='Yummy'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TT4WpBHvIQI/AAAAAAAABZI/ZD26l0t5o10/s72-c/muffin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7398176736727009019</id><published>2010-12-20T13:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T13:47:13.792-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas is coming...</title><content type='html'>This is my 3rd blog  - have been blogging since 2005 and I have always posted this at Christmas but it really is one of my favorites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the tender mercy of our God,&lt;br /&gt;by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven&lt;br /&gt;to shine on those living in darkness&lt;br /&gt;and in the shadow of death,&lt;br /&gt;to guide our feet into the path of peace."&lt;br /&gt;Zechariah's song, Luke 1:78,79&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_HhfhpeaI/AAAAAAAABYU/yHWdk_BbAfE/s1600/sun%2Brise.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 181px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_HhfhpeaI/AAAAAAAABYU/yHWdk_BbAfE/s400/sun%2Brise.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552876243783350690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love these verses.&lt;br /&gt;This is what Christmas is about. Our Messiah coming to save us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really loving my friend &lt;a href="http://jasonissocool.blogspot.com/"&gt;Karina's blog&lt;/a&gt; these days (and always :). Beautiful pictures and posts that are making me think. She has been doing Advent readings and I'm really enjoying them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_E2MatXUI/AAAAAAAABYM/G92By-H7fWc/s1600/nativity%2B2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 188px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_E2MatXUI/AAAAAAAABYM/G92By-H7fWc/s400/nativity%2B2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552873300896341314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't believe it is only 5 days until Christmas! I'm not feeling too stressed. I don't really have any shopping left and other than getting a couple of things ready for work, cleaning my house and doing some baking I am good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of cleaning my house... that is my one Christmas wish. *a clean house*&lt;br /&gt;That would be wonderful :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if I got one of these - I don't think I'd be impressed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_IfDSTI2I/AAAAAAAABYc/YU1FbjvRlu4/s1600/50%2527s%2Bhoover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_IfDSTI2I/AAAAAAAABYc/YU1FbjvRlu4/s400/50%2527s%2Bhoover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552877301354668898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although we do need a new vacuum...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And some more fun for you :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_KvRsM3KI/AAAAAAAABYk/Q5EPv5nJMLc/s1600/50%2527s%2Biron.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 246px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_KvRsM3KI/AAAAAAAABYk/Q5EPv5nJMLc/s400/50%2527s%2Biron.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552879779122568354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Santa - nothing says, "I love you like a new ironing board!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So cheesy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_NhdAOHdI/AAAAAAAABY8/ZFSwH0pUtCM/s1600/kodak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_NhdAOHdI/AAAAAAAABY8/ZFSwH0pUtCM/s400/kodak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552882840176041426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hilarious:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_Ng-2dY9I/AAAAAAAABY0/9Ptr7Jun5Ew/s1600/camel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_Ng-2dY9I/AAAAAAAABY0/9Ptr7Jun5Ew/s400/camel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552882832082035666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this for my friend Erica:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_Ng6A4EyI/AAAAAAAABYs/KgKWlaJndjE/s1600/tupperware.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 261px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_Ng6A4EyI/AAAAAAAABYs/KgKWlaJndjE/s400/tupperware.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552882830783550242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7398176736727009019?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7398176736727009019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-is-coming.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7398176736727009019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7398176736727009019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-is-coming.html' title='Christmas is coming...'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TQ_HhfhpeaI/AAAAAAAABYU/yHWdk_BbAfE/s72-c/sun%2Brise.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-718409726452331186</id><published>2010-12-16T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T19:31:42.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'>like a child</title><content type='html'>As I was putting my son to bed tonight, I was praying with him, thanking Jesus for the good day and the snow and for Christmas when he piped in and said, "and thank you that you have Papa."&lt;br /&gt;So I asked if he meant that Papa is in Heaven with Jesus and he answered yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have had such a hard time explaining to him that Papa is with Jesus in Heaven and that we will see him again someday when we die. At times - we've wondered what he understands and if we've explained it properly. When I still don't understand everything myself, how do I explain it to a four year old? But it sounds like he's getting it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that made me smile. And cry, at the same time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-718409726452331186?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/718409726452331186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/like-child.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/718409726452331186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/718409726452331186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/like-child.html' title='like a child'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5269861948023969273</id><published>2010-12-13T11:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T18:57:17.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Winner, baking, and more links! (just cause I can)</title><content type='html'>The Winner of some awesome Norwex kitchen helpers is Becky!!! Yay for you! (send me your address and I'll mail you some cool stuff)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my son and I made some&lt;a href="http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-should-never-have-made-this.html"&gt; &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Monkey Munch &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://lickthebowlgood.blogspot.com/2009/11/cozy.html"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Pumpkin Spice latte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  The monkey munch turned out pretty well. I used regular white chocolate chips and I have to say, they are not as nice as &lt;a href="http://epicureselections.com/en/products/product.aspx?id=3833"&gt;Epicure Belgian White chocolate&lt;/a&gt;. They didn't melt very well and I ended up having to add more butter and then some &lt;a href="http://epicureselections.com/en/products/product.aspx?id=3832"&gt;Belgian Milk chocolate&lt;/a&gt; to make it more smooth. But it worked out. My son's favorite part is shaking the bag to spread the icing sugar around :)&lt;br /&gt;The Pumpkin Spice latte was really good too! I didn't use half and half but milk instead, and didn't have whipped cream to top it off but it still tasted yummy. Will definitely be making that again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is kind of a random post, but that's life lately!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my favorite songs lately:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QemZQKKJbRU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QemZQKKJbRU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="alwa ys" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PGrx6etMl0w?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PGrx6etMl0w?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OIRE6iw-ws4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OIRE6iw-ws4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5269861948023969273?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5269861948023969273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/winner-baking-and-more-links-just-cause.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5269861948023969273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5269861948023969273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/winner-baking-and-more-links-just-cause.html' title='The Winner, baking, and more links! (just cause I can)'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5608661647954633473</id><published>2010-12-11T06:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T07:18:02.260-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a week</title><content type='html'>I don't mean to be a whiner, really I don't, but this is how our last week has been:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday - baby girl (I know she's not really a baby anymore but she's MY baby) threw up all night long. Literally every half hour. We kept her in our bed and would just hold a towel, or wipes or whatever we had that was still clean under her while she threw up. Poor girl, she had nothing left in her. Finally at about 5 am she was done. We slept for a couple of hours after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday -We decorated our tree and house for Christmas, cleaned up a bit and just hung out at home. Then that night my husband and I went to his staff Christmas party. The kids did fine with the babysitter. Supper was fab, party was fun but the chairs were really uncomfortable. At the end of the night, my back was sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday - Early morning, baby girl is throwing up again. No church for us. But our son had to go to Sunday school to practice for his Sunday school Christmas program. Thank goodness for my mom who picked him up and took him there. I tried to clean up, make some food and do laundry, knowing that I might not have the energy to do those things throughout the week if this continued.  Later that evening little boy starts throwing up. Every half hour. We let him sit on the couch, drink ginger ale and watch Diego episodes until 10 o'clock. Then put him to bed. My husband and I took turns getting up everytime he threw up in the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - I started throwing up. Husband had to come home from work to look after the kids. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Kids had upset stomachs, but were ok. I was in some serious pain though. Went for a massage while my lovely friend watched my kids. Found out my hip was displaced. (I've had problems with my SI and hips since giving birth to my daughter)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Tried to get into my chiropractor, couldn't. Called my mom and cried. She brought me some painkillers. ;) Went to my RMT who did an adjustment on my back. Could barely walk. My mom took my kids to their daycare so they could have some attention and I took some painkillers and iced my back. Slept the day away :) (anyone who received an email etc from me that day might have been confused - I was pretty loopy) Missed work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Baby girl threw up, little boy had upset tummy. I felt a bit better, did some dishes etc, but probably pushed it too much and hurt my back more.  Missed work again. Then threw up all night long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Finally got to my chiropractor for an early morning appointment. Felt a lot better. Actually made muffins with my son. Tidied the house a bit. The kids and I did some colouring and got out some more Christmas decorations. Husband brought supper home but did not eat it.&lt;br /&gt;Then he threw up all night long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today - daughter was up at 6am (teething?) is now back down for a nap and my son and I are watching tv.  I have a feeling we will not be doing too much today. &lt;br /&gt;I am hoping and praying that this is the end. We have a very busy day tomorrow and I am quite ready to get out of the house, get back to work this week and get ready for Christmas. So many things that I wanted to get done - Christmas photos and cards, wrapping presents, baking, visiting with some friends. My brother and sister-in-law are moving today and we can't even help out.&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks until Christmas! I am so glad I don't have more presents to buy. That is one thing that I was on top of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I will do the draw sometime today or tomorrow*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5608661647954633473?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5608661647954633473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/what-week.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5608661647954633473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5608661647954633473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/what-week.html' title='What a week'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-4833865323598759956</id><published>2010-12-07T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T14:42:44.279-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas, happy things, lots of links aaand a Giveaway!</title><content type='html'>Big F for me. I did not finish my 30 days of gratitude. Meh, oh well. Move on...&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is coming, our tree is up and we are getting excited! I am done my Christmas shopping and just want to do some baking etc to get ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a crappy couple of weeks. Might blog about it later but don't really feel like having this blog all about how sad etc I am&lt;br /&gt;Let me say one thing though, one bathroom when everyone is sick is not fun. I really wish we had one more bathroom in this house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some nice things that happened to me last week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won not one but TWO giveaways on blogs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first was on my friend Kim's &lt;a href="http://kim.humanclay.ca/index.php/2010/11/30/drumroll-please/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;. She made some wonderful things for an &lt;a href="http://kim.humanclay.ca/index.php/2010/11/15/someones-going-to-smell-yummy/"&gt;at-home pedicure&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to try everything! I think I'm going to pick the orange nail polish...&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Kim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one evening after the kids were in bed, I was lurking around on  Facebook, saw that Kim had entered in a draw on the Simple Kids FB site  and thought - why not? So I did...&lt;br /&gt;and I won! I won one of these awesome playhouses for my kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/missprettypretty?section_id=5577944&amp;amp;order=price_desc&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;Miss Pretty Pretty Playhouses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to choose one that isn't too girly, that both kids will play with AND that my husband and I will agree on...&lt;br /&gt;Being a librarian, I think the &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/44784701/our-local-library-card-table-playhouse"&gt;Library&lt;/a&gt; one is neat, but growing up my dad had a market garden and so &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/60229600/farm-stand-card-table-playhouse"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt; is pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all sick with the flu this weekend and a friend  brought over some chicken lemon rice soup one night. So sweet of her!  Plus that is my favourite kind of soup! That made life so much easier! My husband had to stay home from work yesterday because I  was out of commision so having food in the fridge to heat up for meals  was so nice! Thanks Connie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now... in the spirit of Christmas and to copy my friends Kim, and &lt;a href="http://http//easterncaramella.blogspot.com/"&gt;Erica &lt;/a&gt;and Karis who gave away a beautiful hat (check out her website &lt;a href="http://oddduckcreations.blogspot.com/"&gt;Odd Duck Creations&lt;/a&gt;) ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am doing a giveaway!!!  Because I am not crafty and don't have much  creative talent I am going to give away some &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://norwex.com/norwex.php?lng=7&amp;amp;cnt=38"&gt;Norwex &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(because I sell it  and love it). I will do some shameless self promotion in another post about  the merits of this wonderful stuff!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But for now in honor of the name of my blog - Washing Dishes, I will give away some of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://norwex.com/category.php?lng=7&amp;amp;ctg=5&amp;amp;cnt=38"&gt;these &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lovely items to help you wash your dishes better!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So, if you'd like to win, simply leave a comment. And to make it interesting and because everyone else is doing it, answer the question - what is the room you hate cleaning the most in your house?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**I will do the draw on the weekend!**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-4833865323598759956?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/4833865323598759956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-happy-things-lots-of-links.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4833865323598759956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4833865323598759956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-happy-things-lots-of-links.html' title='Christmas, happy things, lots of links aaand a Giveaway!'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-4093248479769023762</id><published>2010-11-22T06:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T07:35:51.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New week</title><content type='html'>I just couldn't get my act together to blog something that I am grateful for everyday. Last week was hard.&lt;br /&gt;I'll try again. It's a new week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working backwards:&lt;br /&gt;Today I am grateful for my husband who gets up early every morning, drives to work in the dark and cold, works all day and then comes home to help me with the house and kids. We decided when we had kids that it was important for me to be home with them and I am thankful that he works hard to support our family so that I can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I got to go out for supper with three of my dearest friends. And although I tire of hearing about calorie counting (probably typical for a group of women our age but so frustrating) it was still a great night. I love my friends and am so grateful to have them in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was relaxing rituals. Oh I am so grateful for a husband who lets me sleep in on Saturdays and who lets me unwind in a bubble bath if I need it in the evening. I love having a bath, enjoying a cup of tea and then curling up with a good book. So relaxing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was being grateful for water. Yes I am grateful that we don't have to worry about our drinking water or how we will have a bath or wash clothes etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday was being grateful for a mentor. I can't pick one, there are so many women in my life who have helped me on this journey.&lt;br /&gt;Of course my mom is the biggest influence in my life. We've always been close but we are closer now than ever since losing my dad. She is such a strong, smart wonderful woman. I can go to her with anything. She is the best mom and grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My two grandmothers are great examples to me and I love them both. Both of my grandpa's died in 1995 - I've watched how my grandmothers have kept going and loved their families. They are both strong women and I am thankful that they are my heritage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother in law is a huge blessing to me. I know she prays for us constantly and her faith encourages me. She is a great mom, mom in law and grandma. Just wish we got to see her more often!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My aunt whom I've always admired. One of her many admirable missions in life is body acceptance at any size. She has made me think a lot about this issue and I am grateful for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lorna, my second mom when I was a teenager. She is one of the sweetest people I have ever met and I knew I could talk to her about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carol who is a surrogate sister, mom and grandma to so many who know her. I can talk to her about anything, she has such faith and loves unconditionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others who have made a difference in my life: Joanne, Kim, Holly, Nicole, Bonnie, Joanne N, and my other friends who are so wonderful to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-4093248479769023762?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/4093248479769023762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/new-week.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4093248479769023762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4093248479769023762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/new-week.html' title='New week'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2298977922493206849</id><published>2010-11-18T06:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T07:46:10.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If my heart wasn't already broken...</title><content type='html'>This is a picture that my little sister drew a little while ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TOU52Qr3RqI/AAAAAAAABYE/wqpWlm-Fr2k/s1600/IMG_6901.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TOU52Qr3RqI/AAAAAAAABYE/wqpWlm-Fr2k/s400/IMG_6901.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540898520903927458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can't read it it says&lt;br /&gt;My family &lt;br /&gt;- Me Mom Dad (Happy) Happy Happy&lt;br /&gt;My family without my Dad (Sad)&lt;br /&gt;- Me Mom Sad Sad Very Sad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(and then there's a dinosaur or something beside my mom - not sure what that is? :)  )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am missing my dad lots right now. I don't mean to be depressing and don't even really tell people anymore. I know people think I/we should be "getting over it" already. It's been almost two years. But we miss him and feel his loss every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I baked cookies with my little sister the other night. We talked about how dad liked black licorice allsorts. My sister and I would both always try them because they were so pretty and we liked the coloured candy parts but not the black licorice part.&lt;br /&gt;She mentioned that she dreamt about dad the night before. I had dreamt about him as well so we thought that was kind of neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me so sad that she doesn't have our dad for this part of her life. She doesn't have her daddy that she needs very much as she becomes a teenager. He won't be there to bug her about her crushes and her first boyfriend. He won't be there to bug the boys that come around and make them nervous when he takes his fake leg off.He's not here to help her make some of the most important decisions of her life.  He won't be there to walk her down the aisle when she gets married.&lt;br /&gt; Sad sad very sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2298977922493206849?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2298977922493206849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/if-my-heart-wasnt-already-broken.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2298977922493206849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2298977922493206849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/if-my-heart-wasnt-already-broken.html' title='If my heart wasn&apos;t already broken...'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TOU52Qr3RqI/AAAAAAAABYE/wqpWlm-Fr2k/s72-c/IMG_6901.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-4650527436745090015</id><published>2010-11-15T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T19:42:51.227-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nov.15</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="profile_status"&gt;Local Shop or Group&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm grateful for all the stores we have in our little town. We can buy milk if we're out, get supper from the restaurant if we don't feel like cooking and buy almost anything you need from the Drugstore (snacks, medicine, cookbooks, toys, candles - you name it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also grateful that we have a library in our town. And not just because I'm the librarian... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-4650527436745090015?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/4650527436745090015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/nov15.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4650527436745090015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4650527436745090015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/nov15.html' title='Nov.15'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2573083505625006913</id><published>2010-11-14T07:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T07:24:49.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nov.14</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was being grateful for Home Sweet Home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful that my husband and I were able to buy our own home when we did. And as much as I complain about this 102 year old house, I am still thankful for it. It keeps us warm and sheltered, has room for us all and people always say it is "cute" when they walk in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today - Sunday Special - What am I thankful for right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we spent time with my family, celebrating my little sister's 10th birthday. It was her birthday on Friday and they were spending last night at a hotel so the kids (my sister, nieces and nephew and mine) could swim.&lt;br /&gt;I am so extremely grateful for a family that I love and that I love to spend time with. These past 20 months without my dad have been so hard, but I am grateful that we have stuck together and are still close.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2573083505625006913?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2573083505625006913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/nov14.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2573083505625006913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2573083505625006913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/nov14.html' title='Nov.14'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5693020859701164056</id><published>2010-11-12T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T12:28:02.141-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cultural Heritage #12</title><content type='html'>My Heritage:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a big mix - I am Russian, Polish, English, Scottish, Irish, Metis,  American *gasp* (my grandmother's family came from the USA in the early 1900's) and probably some more in there. In the past couple of years we have found out that my great great grandmother was Jewish, married a Polish man and they decided to hide her Jewish heritage. We don't know the whole story, but the timing of it makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my Scottish history. I loved being in Scotland, the people are so wonderful and the country is so beautiful. So that is the one I relate to the most. I need to find out more about the rest of my heritage and am proud of it all. But I am most definitely a Proud Scotswoman!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad at my brother's wedding - so proud wearing a kilt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TN2dwde2biI/AAAAAAAABX0/FTfqxScs2jc/s1600/dad%2Bkilt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TN2dwde2biI/AAAAAAAABX0/FTfqxScs2jc/s400/dad%2Bkilt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538756572608884258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5693020859701164056?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5693020859701164056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/cultural-heritage-12.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5693020859701164056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5693020859701164056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/cultural-heritage-12.html' title='Cultural Heritage #12'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TN2dwde2biI/AAAAAAAABX0/FTfqxScs2jc/s72-c/dad%2Bkilt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-8428053990549671083</id><published>2010-11-11T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T17:43:35.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>two for one</title><content type='html'>oops.&lt;br /&gt;I have a good excuse. really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So #10&lt;br /&gt;aha moment. I've had a couple lately but don't have time to write a novel.&lt;br /&gt;I am slowly changing my views on a couple of things that I grew up thinking were black and white.&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of grey areas that need explaining to me. So I am searching, reading, praying and thinking. Will do a long post on this in the near future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#11&lt;br /&gt;Thankful for those who fought and those who lost their lives. My grandfather fought in WWII. He never talked about it. So many horrific things then and so many continuing now, in the Middle East, in Africa, all over the world.&lt;br /&gt;War is horrible, I don't believe it is ever right. But today is a day of honouring and remembering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse: my kids are sick, snotty, coughing all hours of the day and night. My husband is sick. Our cat is sick. And I am lazy sometimes. That's my excuse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-8428053990549671083?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/8428053990549671083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/two-for-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8428053990549671083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8428053990549671083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/two-for-one.html' title='two for one'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1621830701018990847</id><published>2010-11-09T16:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T17:26:08.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#9</title><content type='html'>A Good friend you are thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't pick just one.  I know it's a cop out and I'm lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am so thankful for all of my friends. You find out who your real friends are when tragedy strikes. I am so thankful for those who stuck by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends who: write me a note when they are thinking of me, watch my kids when they know I need a break, let me know they are praying for me, bring me flowers, pick up an item or two from Costco for us, stop by for a quick visit, phone me on my birthday, cry with me, listen to me whine, help me clean my house, love my kids, send me cards or letters, drive "all the way out" from Saskatoon to visit ;) and who love me no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends are those rare people who ask how you are and then wait for the answer. &lt;br /&gt;~Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"&gt;It is the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter.  ~Marlene Dietrich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"&gt;Friendship is a sheltering tree.  ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Phillip the cat update*&lt;br /&gt;Phil is home!&lt;br /&gt;We were ready to say goodbye. But when the vet called this morning, we were pleasantly surprised. She said he was doing a bit better on fluids and that we could bring him home and continue getting food into him. He also has to have fluids by IV once a day. (That will be my husband's job. He is a former body piercer. I can't stand stuff like that)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1621830701018990847?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1621830701018990847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1621830701018990847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1621830701018990847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post.html' title='#9'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2085260214080377663</id><published>2010-11-08T14:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T15:46:17.952-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nov.8</title><content type='html'>Too sad to write something happy today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a sad past couple of weeks.&lt;br /&gt;A friend of a friend lost her dad to cancer a couple weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;A man from this town passed away from cancer recently and left behind a wife and two young kids.&lt;br /&gt;My mom's cousin lost her son in a tragic car accident last week. He was only 21.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now we will probably lose our cat in the next couple of days. Not that that is comparable to the pain those other families are going through. Trust me, I know. But we are still very sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phillip the cat was a 1 month anniversary gift to my husband. I rescued him from the SPCA.&lt;br /&gt;We call him our firstborn and although I love all three cats that we've had - I have to admit I love Phillip the most.&lt;br /&gt;Phillip is the nicest cat. He likes to drink coffee. He sticks his paw in the cup and then licks it off. Everyone loves Phil. All of our neighbours know him and love him. He even used to go hang out downtown by the grocery store and post office and visit with people there.  He lets the kids pull his tail and has never scratched them. He even let my little sister and niece trim his whiskers one time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phillip has had liver failure. He hasn't been himself for months. He stayed at the vet for a week in September, he came home and slowly improved for awhile but now he is worse. So we are trying a day or two of fluids to see if that helps but we have declined the feeding tube and another round of tests that would be at least $2000. I hate that we are giving up in a way. But we just can't afford it and as much as we love Phil, we aren't guaranteed that even that would fix him. So if he does not improve in the next two days we are going to have to make a very hard decision.&lt;br /&gt;This sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNiHYL4c4gI/AAAAAAAABXs/AoCkohaJQkI/s1600/O+and+Phil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNiHYL4c4gI/AAAAAAAABXs/AoCkohaJQkI/s400/O+and+Phil.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537324591428198914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our son giving Phil a kiss. (2007)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2085260214080377663?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2085260214080377663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/nov8.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2085260214080377663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2085260214080377663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/nov8.html' title='Nov.8'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNiHYL4c4gI/AAAAAAAABXs/AoCkohaJQkI/s72-c/O+and+Phil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-511377514288662783</id><published>2010-11-07T19:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T19:41:32.621-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nov.7</title><content type='html'>What am I grateful for right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For living in a country where I can freely go to church and not have to hide my faith or worry that my family is in danger for our beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should not be taken for granted. So many others do not have this privilege.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.persecution.net/"&gt;http://www.persecution.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-511377514288662783?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/511377514288662783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/nov7.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/511377514288662783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/511377514288662783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/nov7.html' title='Nov.7'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-8140925053879090729</id><published>2010-11-06T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T18:33:45.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#6</title><content type='html'>A Nice Surprise....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm,&lt;br /&gt;Cliche I know - but finding out I was pregnant with my daughter is one of my fav's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was almost exactly two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;I went to my Doctor to start on some drugs to help me get pregnant. We decided I should take a test just to be sure. I had taken so many negative tests it was depressing.&lt;br /&gt; So the whole time I was waiting for my Doctor to come in, I kept telling myself, "don't get your hopes up, you're not pregnant."&lt;br /&gt;She walked in with a smile on her face and said, "So, do you feel pregnant?"&lt;br /&gt;I was shocked. She said it was very faint but it was there, my doctor told me to come back the next week to do one more. But I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening I tried to get our son to tell my husband that there was a baby in my tummy but he kept whispering it and my husband didn't understand. Finally I just told him. He was surprised but very excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now we have our two beautiful children. The best surprises you can get :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-8140925053879090729?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/8140925053879090729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/6.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8140925053879090729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8140925053879090729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/6.html' title='#6'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1486975912340489552</id><published>2010-11-05T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T18:04:02.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#5 - Tough Job</title><content type='html'>My toughest job was when I worked in a group home for adults with disabilities. Some of these people dealt with severe cerebral palsy, autism, and learning disablilities among other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful for the experience. It taught me patience, love and that everyone is special. There were a lot of things I didn't enjoy about the job and people would ask me how I could do it, but they were part of the job and just had to be done. That's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful for the people in this world who do jobs like that everyday. The jobs that need to be done everyday, that are taken for granted but are so important.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1486975912340489552?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1486975912340489552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/5-tough-job.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1486975912340489552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1486975912340489552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/5-tough-job.html' title='#5 - Tough Job'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5959346593980485</id><published>2010-11-04T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T12:14:26.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#4</title><content type='html'>Gratitude for a Nature Spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an easy one for me. Canada is a beautiful country and I love the mountains and the beaches, especially the east coast. (and I do like Saskatchewan too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT my favorite nature spot would have to be Scotland.&lt;br /&gt;I got to spend 5 months there almost 10 years ago. It is the most beautiful country.&lt;br /&gt;The beaches are rugged and rocky but so gorgeous. The mountains are inspiring.&lt;br /&gt;Probably my favorite spot in Scotland was in the glen by a stream down from the Seamill Centre where I stayed.&lt;br /&gt;I loved to go sit my a little bridge, enjoy the misty rain and relax, do some thinking and lots of times some praying.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any photos because all of my photos are on 35mm. I have yet to scan them. Someday I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are some photos I found online of the school I stayed at in West Kilbride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNMF1-Q9hsI/AAAAAAAABXk/g2FCOy9MJSg/s1600/scotland+forest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 183px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNMF1-Q9hsI/AAAAAAAABXk/g2FCOy9MJSg/s400/scotland+forest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535774791773816514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNMF1pAxu9I/AAAAAAAABXc/RdrucS776ZA/s1600/seamill2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNMF1pAxu9I/AAAAAAAABXc/RdrucS776ZA/s400/seamill2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535774786068790226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNMF1fMIEBI/AAAAAAAABXU/33pnW_FFAAM/s1600/seamill.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 156px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNMF1fMIEBI/AAAAAAAABXU/33pnW_FFAAM/s400/seamill.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535774783432036370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5959346593980485?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5959346593980485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/4.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5959346593980485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5959346593980485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/4.html' title='#4'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNMF1-Q9hsI/AAAAAAAABXk/g2FCOy9MJSg/s72-c/scotland+forest.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1289881937055405973</id><published>2010-11-03T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T20:03:38.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#3</title><content type='html'>Today is a family member you are grateful for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Hmmm, this is a hard one because I am grateful for all of my family and love them all equally. &lt;br /&gt;My aunt and uncle gave us a car and even bought a "family truck" so any of us can borrow it when we need to, my grandma has looked after my children so many times I can't even count, my uncle has helped us scrape and paint our house, my brother helped my husband renovate our bathroom, my sister in law has looked after my kids numerous times.&lt;br /&gt; I am also really grateful for all of my husband's family in Nova Scotia. I don't know all of them very well and have actually only met them a handful of times, but they have always made me feel comfortable and are so good to us. My mother and father in law have been very good to us and always spoil us rotten when are there. I feel like I am completely part of their family and always have a good time when go visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am grateful for ALL of my family.&lt;br /&gt;And because this is my blog, I can do whatever I want. So there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1289881937055405973?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1289881937055405973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1289881937055405973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1289881937055405973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/3.html' title='#3'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5311639221854778394</id><published>2010-11-02T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T09:15:34.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Small town life</title><content type='html'>Apparently for 30 days of Gratitude you are given a theme each day...I might follow that some days. We'll see what I feel like.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday's theme was where you live.&lt;br /&gt;So I'll do that today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful that my husband and I moved back to the town that I grew up in a year after we were married. I spent a lot of time at my parents house when my son was first born and my dad and my son were very close. We had talked many times of moving to the East Coast but never did. Had we done so, I would have regretted it immensely when my dad died. As it turned out - we stayed and I was very close to my dad. Something I will always be thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;I am also grateful that I have my mom, sister and Grandma (and uncle at present time) living in the same town as us. It is so nice to be close to family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes small town life is annoying. But for the most part - I love where I live. I love getting to know new people at my job and chatting with those I already know. I love being able to go for a walk and saying hi to everyone I pass whether I know them or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes though, I think I should move here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dana, Saskatchewan&lt;br /&gt;From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia&lt;br /&gt;Hamlet of Dana is located in Saskatchewan&lt;br /&gt;Hamlet of Dana&lt;br /&gt;Country   Canada&lt;br /&gt;Province   Saskatchewan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dana is a hamlet in Saskatchewan located and the intersection of Saskatchewan Highway 637 and Saskatchewan Highway 5. The hamlet is an un-incorporated place within the Rural Municipality of Bayne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hamlet at one point in time was closely associated with the CFS Dana, a nearby military installation that closed in 1987.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNA4w3ibEwI/AAAAAAAABW0/D0VJAw-2UOI/s1600/dana%27s+garden.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNA4w3ibEwI/AAAAAAAABW0/D0VJAw-2UOI/s400/dana%27s+garden.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534986354231546626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5311639221854778394?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5311639221854778394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/small-town-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5311639221854778394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5311639221854778394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/small-town-life.html' title='Small town life'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TNA4w3ibEwI/AAAAAAAABW0/D0VJAw-2UOI/s72-c/dana%27s+garden.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1014659902896831427</id><published>2010-11-01T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T17:06:48.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Apparently for 30 days of Gratitude you are given a theme each day...I might follow that some days. We'll see what I feel like.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday's theme was where you live.&lt;br /&gt;So I'll do that today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful that my husband and I moved back to the town that I grew up in a year after we were married. I spent a lot of time at my parents house when my son was first born and my dad and my son were very close. We had talked many times of moving to the East Coast but never did. Had we done so, I would have regretted it immensely when my dad died. As it turned out - we stayed at I was very close to my dad. Something I will always be thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;I am also grateful that I have my my mom, sister and Grandma (and uncle at present time) living in the same town as us. It is so nice to be close to family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1014659902896831427?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1014659902896831427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/apparently-for-30-days-of-gratitude-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1014659902896831427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1014659902896831427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/apparently-for-30-days-of-gratitude-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-6782887035004819845</id><published>2010-11-01T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T13:17:23.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>November</title><content type='html'>It's been over a month! How did that happen?&lt;br /&gt;It has been very busy in our house. My husband and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary! He started his new job. Our kids have been sick with colds and coughs. Work has been busy. The snow has fallen and we had to pull out all of our "winter gear". We had nice weather for taking the kids trick or treating yesterday though! Our son was Batman and our daughter was a Ballerina Princess. They were adorable. We only took them to 6 houses and they got lots of candy! (enough to keep mommy and daddy full of chocolate for awhile)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it is blogging month and there is a 30 days of Gratitude movement in November. So in keeping with my birthday resolution I am going to try to blog something I am grateful for everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grateful fact #1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am grateful for my healthy children. So often us parents with healthy kids take this granted. Yes my kids have had colds and we've had sleepless nights. I worry when my son won't stop coughing and needs his inhaler but I've never had to leave them overnight in the hospital or worry that I won't be bringing them home with me.&lt;br /&gt;For this I am so grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note -for Halloween some good friends had "The Best Halloween Party Since Elementary School".&lt;br /&gt;It was so much fun! My husband and I got a night out and my mom even had both kids over for a sleepover (our first night away from our daughter!)&lt;br /&gt;We ate lots of yummy food. (spider cupcakes, tombstone puddings etc) played pictionary and pin the tail on the cat. Everyone dressed up and we had a fabulous night!  Now to plan costumes for next year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband was the Raisin Bran Lumberjack and I was Octomom :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TM8VnJOFIvI/AAAAAAAABWs/94Qkf7UTG4g/s1600/IMG_6894.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 409px; height: 273px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TM8VnJOFIvI/AAAAAAAABWs/94Qkf7UTG4g/s400/IMG_6894.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534666229295686386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-6782887035004819845?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/6782887035004819845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/november.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6782887035004819845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6782887035004819845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/11/november.html' title='November'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TM8VnJOFIvI/AAAAAAAABWs/94Qkf7UTG4g/s72-c/IMG_6894.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5948064428672827851</id><published>2010-09-23T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T11:16:46.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and on it goes</title><content type='html'>Survived birthday number two with no dad. It was actually okay. Of course I was sad. Everyday is tinged with sadness no matter what. But it was a nice day.&lt;br /&gt;I was spoiled by family and friends. Reminded over and over again how blessed I really am and how thankful I should be.&lt;br /&gt;I really do have a great life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have slowly come to the realization (and this will be a long post another time) that God wasn't picking on our family when he let (for lack of a better term) my dad die. I still choose to love God and even though I've been angry and will probably never understand the why's of everything. I am still going to love the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the same thing as having an argument with my husband. We still love each other, and don't decide to get a divorce when we disagree about something or even don't like each other for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;I am still a Christian (even though I sometimes don't want to be associated with others who call themselves that). I am not going to throw away my faith because my life hasn't gone the way I planned. Life is choosing joy, happiness, faith and sometimes accepting (not always liking) the things that come your way.&lt;br /&gt;I am not alone in grief. Others are walking this with me and making it more bearable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so lucky to have my dad for 26 years when others don't have one at all. I miss my dad so much because he was wonderful. So many others are not so lucky. I really was and am blessed.&lt;br /&gt;I know I will see my dad again. Others do not have the same assurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for my 28th year, I am going to try to be positive and always see something bright everyday. Even when I don't feel like it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5948064428672827851?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5948064428672827851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/09/and-on-it-goes.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5948064428672827851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5948064428672827851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/09/and-on-it-goes.html' title='and on it goes'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-9071658208045084790</id><published>2010-09-12T19:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T19:52:04.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you kidding me?</title><content type='html'>There is something wrong when this model is considered plus size...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/09/12/crystal-renn-z-spoke-zac-posen-spring-2011--show_n_713638.html"&gt;http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/09/12/crystal-renn-z-spoke-zac-posen-spring-2011--show_n_713638.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-9071658208045084790?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/9071658208045084790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/09/are-you-kidding-me.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/9071658208045084790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/9071658208045084790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/09/are-you-kidding-me.html' title='Are you kidding me?'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-6537903740249198649</id><published>2010-09-10T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T10:53:36.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfort Food</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="ingredients block"&gt;     &lt;h2&gt;Potato Lentil Soup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Ingredients&lt;/h2&gt;            &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 Tbsp (30 ml) vegetable oil&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 Tbsp (30 ml) Epicure’s Toasted Onion (I added some garlic as well)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 cups (500 ml) diced potatoes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/2 cup (125 ml) diced celery&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 cups (500 ml) red lentils&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 Tbsp (15 ml) Epicure’s Roasted Red Pepper Dip Mix&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 Tbsp (15 ml) Epicure’s Seasoning for Cheese Chives &amp;amp; Bacon Dip&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;8 cups (2 L) Epicure’s Vegetable Bouillon, prepared&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Epicure’s Sea Salt, to taste&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Epicure’s Black Pepper, to taste&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;               &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;div class="instructions block"&gt;     &lt;h2&gt;Instructions&lt;/h2&gt;     &lt;p&gt;1. Combine first 8 ingredients in a large Epicure's Multi-Purpose  Pot. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer over medium-low heat for  20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;2. Season with Epicure's Sea Salt and Epicure's Black Pepper.&lt;/p&gt;         &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;div class="serving"&gt;     &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Per Serving:&lt;/strong&gt; Calories 400,      Fat 8 g (Saturated 1 g,      Trans 0 g),      Cholesterol 0 mg,      Sodium 170 mg,      Carbohydrate 58 g (Fibre 12 g,      Sugars 4 g),      Protein 27 g.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;div id="ctl00_ctl00_cphMainContent_RecipesContent_Tips"&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tips:&lt;/strong&gt; Serve with freshly baked Epicure's Focaccia Bread or Epicure's Cheddar Herb &amp;amp; Garlic Biscuits.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obviously this can switched up a bit and you do not have to use Epicure spices. I just happen to have a cupboard full of them because I sell them. I didn't use the Roasted red pepper or the cheese chives and bacon. I used some Louisiana hot and spicy dip and some Herb and Garlic. I also heated the oil with the onion and garlic a bit first, then added the lentils, then everything else.I like to improvise. I made this soup yesterday and it tastes even better today.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-6537903740249198649?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/6537903740249198649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/09/comfort-food.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6537903740249198649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6537903740249198649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/09/comfort-food.html' title='Comfort Food'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5381789737455859991</id><published>2010-09-01T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T09:34:00.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The end of summer</title><content type='html'>It has been a busy month. Summer is pretty much over and everything is starting up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been back at work for a month now. I am working ten hours a week. And I do not know how other moms keep it all together. I am only working ten hours a week, that is how much most work in a day. I have always had great admiration for moms who work full time. And single parents - wow (but that's a whole other post).&lt;br /&gt;After my son was born I went back to work 15 hours a week but this time I knew I wanted to do less. I am so lucky to be able to do this. I have a great co-worker who let me pick what hours I wanted and a pretty nice job that although can be stressful, is not hard. Plus I am basically my own boss, which is good for me because I don't like being told what to do.&lt;br /&gt;My children only have to go to daycare for 6 hours a week and are loving it. So overall the going back to work thing has been positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August and September are Birthday months for our family. August was my dad's 2nd birthday in Heaven. My sister-in-law, niece, uncle, mom and son all had birthdays as well. September has my husband's, my grandma's and my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year is the big 3 0 for my husband and he is celebrating it with a new job - just to keep things interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this past month has been a busy one. But I am feeling so blessed. There are stresses and worries, lots of things that still need doing and it doesn't always go the way I want it to, but there are so many things to be thankful for. So I will do that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5381789737455859991?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5381789737455859991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/09/end-of-summer.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5381789737455859991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5381789737455859991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/09/end-of-summer.html' title='The end of summer'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3846367024257889258</id><published>2010-08-23T09:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T11:21:36.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oodles of Zucchini</title><content type='html'>It is feeling more like Fall here these days. It's only supposed to get to 16 degrees. So I decided we would do some baking today.&lt;br /&gt;My friend runs a gardening program   &lt;a href="http://www.chep.org/cg/index.html"&gt;http://www.chep.org/cg/index.html&lt;/a&gt;   and gave me a great deal on some fresh veggies. The zucchini are pretty big so I thought I'd make some muffins and bread from them. I also tried making fried green tomatoes (from my own tomato plants!!!) and zucchini last night for supper. The tomatoes turned out soggy but I thought the zucchini were pretty good. The kids disagreed.&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine made some super yummy chocolate zucchini bread the other night and I made that on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;Then today with my kids "helping" me in the kitchen we made this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ZUCCHINI BREAD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="ingredients" style="margin-top: 10px;"&gt;         &lt;h3&gt;             Ingredients&lt;/h3&gt;                          &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     3 cups all-purpose flour&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     1 teaspoon salt&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     1 teaspoon baking soda&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     1 teaspoon baking powder&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     3 teaspoons ground cinnamon&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     3 eggs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     1 cup vegetable oil&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     2 1/4 cups white sugar&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     3 teaspoons vanilla extract&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     2 cups grated zucchini&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="plaincharacterwrap"&gt;                     1 cup chopped walnuts&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;                  &lt;/div&gt;     &lt;div style="border-top: 1px dotted rgb(204, 204, 204); width: 300px; margin-top: 20px;"&gt;     &lt;/div&gt;     &lt;div class="directions" style="margin-top: 10px;"&gt;         &lt;h3&gt;             Directions&lt;/h3&gt;                                   &lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="plaincharacterwrap break"&gt;                     Grease and flour two 8 x 4 inch pans.  Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C).                 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="plaincharacterwrap break"&gt;                     Sift flour, salt, baking powder, soda, and cinnamon together in a bowl.                 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="plaincharacterwrap break"&gt;                     Beat eggs, oil, vanilla, and sugar together in a  large bowl.  Add sifted ingredients to the creamed mixture, and beat  well.  Stir in zucchini and nuts until well combined.  Pour batter into  prepared pans.                 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="plaincharacterwrap break"&gt;                     Bake for 40 to 60 minutes, or until tester inserted  in the center comes out clean.  Cool in pan on rack for 20 minutes.   Remove bread from pan, and completely cool.                 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;                  &lt;/div&gt; I was out of eggs so used applesauce instead and didn't add nuts because my daughter is still too young. I added some poudre douce spice with the cinnamon. I also used less sugar, about 1 3/4 cups instead of the 2 1/4 cups it called for.&lt;br /&gt;I tend to do this a lot - substituting and almost always use less sugar than the recipe calls for. It usually works out- sometimes not, but I'm learning what works. We made one loaf and then used the rest of the batter for muffins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I'm going to try pasta with zucchini ribbons and salmon. Hoping the kids will eat that as readily as the muffins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3846367024257889258?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3846367024257889258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/08/oodles-of-zucchini.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3846367024257889258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3846367024257889258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/08/oodles-of-zucchini.html' title='Oodles of Zucchini'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-8874683082964407327</id><published>2010-08-22T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T11:08:51.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>new normal</title><content type='html'>Grieving is hard. Missing someone is awful. Expecting them to be there and then realizing they are not can make you physically ill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But do you know what is worse? When life starts to feel normal without that person around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to not look for my dad when I go to my mom's house. I don't expect to see him in his chair when I walk through the door. I am starting to forget his laugh and his voice. I don't expect to hear him answer the phone. I don't pick up the phone to ask him a question. I don't worry about the coming winter and all of the icy sidewalks and stairs that he could slip on.&lt;br /&gt;When I dream of him, I know that he is gone and wake up sad instead of hopeful. Because I want to just keep dreaming.&lt;br /&gt;I no longer think of things to bake to take over to him. I can't ask him what my mom would like for her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is normal and probably good...? But it feels much much worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-8874683082964407327?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/8874683082964407327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/08/new-normal.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8874683082964407327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8874683082964407327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/08/new-normal.html' title='new normal'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-9162834894939401873</id><published>2010-08-17T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T12:07:15.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it waits for no one</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Time is going by way too fast for me these days.&lt;br /&gt;My little boy just turned 4 and my daughter has started to walk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am back at work and the kids will start their new daycare tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to enjoy my children, not get too stressed out about things that won't matter tomorrow and just be a mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember how fast my son's first year went and when my daughter was born I told myself to enjoy every minute because I knew it would fly. It went even faster than the first one.&lt;br /&gt;I want it to stand still - just for a moment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Babies Don’t Keep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; By Ruth Hulbert Hamilton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Hang out the washing, make up the bed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Sew on a button and butter the bread.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dishes are waiting and bills are past due,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Lullabye, rockaby, lullabye loo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; So quiet down cobwebs;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dust go to sleep!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-9162834894939401873?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/9162834894939401873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/08/it-waits-for-no-one.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/9162834894939401873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/9162834894939401873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/08/it-waits-for-no-one.html' title='it waits for no one'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7204678424421843845</id><published>2010-08-03T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T08:03:28.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August 3</title><content type='html'>Today would have been my dad's 58th birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 2nd Birthday in Heaven dad.&lt;br /&gt;I love you and miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7204678424421843845?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7204678424421843845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/08/august-3.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7204678424421843845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7204678424421843845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/08/august-3.html' title='August 3'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1981760294727257702</id><published>2010-07-24T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T09:29:44.318-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday, my mom, little sister and I met one of my "new" blogging friends and her mom for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;I say "new" because I kind of knew her from camp when I was a kid and  she was a counselor. I also have been reading her blog for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She lost her dad in October. We connected awhile after that and have  been in touch ever since. We have been trying to get together, with our  moms (since they are in the same boat as well) since May and yesterday  it finally worked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We had a really nice time - chatted, cried a bit, laughed and talked  some more. It was nice being with someone who is going through  the same thing as I am and totally understands. Their loss is still so new and I feel for them going through this first summer without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has been very honest in her blog and sometimes I feel like I could have written her posts. I am very thankful that we met and can be of some help to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a really nice time and I'm looking forward to hanging out again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1981760294727257702?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1981760294727257702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/07/yesterday-my-mom-little-sister-and-i.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1981760294727257702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1981760294727257702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/07/yesterday-my-mom-little-sister-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2177562086561216348</id><published>2010-07-21T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T08:58:23.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sorry for myself</title><content type='html'>I am having one of "those" days today. Pretty sure it can all be attributed to pms (sorry if that's too much information but it's true).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weather is driving me crazy. We've had way too much rain. At 8 am it was thundering and now it is sunny. Maybe the sun will last but who knows. We were supposed to go out this morning to a friend's house. But I decided not to risk walking over with the kids in case it started to rain again. Not having a car is so annoying some days. I would love to be able to pack the kids up and go to the zoo or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rain is also making our lives miserable by gathering in our basement. Our sump pump is running all the time, but you can still smell the water from the cold storage and laundry rooms. I used to love the rain. Now I hate it. It is wrecking my summer. We can hardly get any work done outside due to the wet and the mosquitoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling extremely overwhelmed with trying to spend time with my kids, worrying about our house, do laundry, cook and keep the house clean after being totally spoiled for the two weeks we were gone. Plus I start work next month and even though it's very part-time I'm wondering how I will manage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our phone has been out since Saturday. Super fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my Grief Share book it talks about how every day/week/month/whatever, you miss something new about the person you lost. There are more facets to a relationship with a person then you even realize. Today I am missing my Fix-it dad who knew how to fix everything and would tell me all the answers to what we should be doing with our house. I could just call him and he would come over and make it better. I don't have anyone like that anymore. I was so spoiled to have a dad like that, and I miss him so much.&lt;br /&gt;I am bawling as I type this, and my son is telling me not to be sad. I hate this. Of course I miss him everyday but for some reason, it hurts a lot more today. It's been 16 months. I just want to talk to him. I want to see his face and hear his voice. I want to see him with my mom. I want him to play with my sister and my kids and my nieces and nephew.  I want him to answer the phone when I call their house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2177562086561216348?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2177562086561216348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/07/sorry-for-myself.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2177562086561216348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2177562086561216348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/07/sorry-for-myself.html' title='sorry for myself'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-139046665855334816</id><published>2010-07-15T08:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T10:12:23.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where I've been</title><content type='html'>We just returned home after two weeks in Nova Scotia. This is a bit of what we did there:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blew some bubbles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD85wa-k2eI/AAAAAAAABWU/2_BkQV_r3Zg/s1600/569.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD85wa-k2eI/AAAAAAAABWU/2_BkQV_r3Zg/s400/569.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494173574453582306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More bubbles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD85OcVcy6I/AAAAAAAABWM/H-J4rMfI2lo/s1600/567.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD85OcVcy6I/AAAAAAAABWM/H-J4rMfI2lo/s400/567.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494172990702406562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looked at rocks and threw some in the ocean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD86iJUR-bI/AAAAAAAABWc/iSCf40SUuds/s1600/637.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD86iJUR-bI/AAAAAAAABWc/iSCf40SUuds/s400/637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494174428706240946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;walked on the beach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD84YrGFtJI/AAAAAAAABWE/EKbSy3dC7xA/s1600/485.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD84YrGFtJI/AAAAAAAABWE/EKbSy3dC7xA/s400/485.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494172066951574674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;watched the water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD83z-eyzdI/AAAAAAAABV8/q4p_jbxSl9s/s1600/636.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD83z-eyzdI/AAAAAAAABV8/q4p_jbxSl9s/s400/636.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494171436500307410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD826tAuMWI/AAAAAAAABV0/pwtfTBJX2l8/s1600/447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD826tAuMWI/AAAAAAAABV0/pwtfTBJX2l8/s400/447.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494170452558229858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD8111-Ne2I/AAAAAAAABVs/Ul8MtQ68pag/s1600/253.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD8111-Ne2I/AAAAAAAABVs/Ul8MtQ68pag/s400/253.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494169269552642914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw a "sea monster"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD81B4XwvDI/AAAAAAAABVk/dmL9_3ORWZs/s1600/176.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD81B4XwvDI/AAAAAAAABVk/dmL9_3ORWZs/s400/176.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494168376843484210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw some boats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD80fOrPryI/AAAAAAAABVc/b1emHKY4mGM/s1600/115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD80fOrPryI/AAAAAAAABVc/b1emHKY4mGM/s400/115.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494167781535362850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate the best Fish 'n Chips ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD8zy8xersI/AAAAAAAABVU/mZ0dA-wzN7w/s1600/112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD8zy8xersI/AAAAAAAABVU/mZ0dA-wzN7w/s400/112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494167020815429314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great time! Saw lots of family, celebrated my daughter's 1st Birthday, relaxed and spent lots of time near the ocean. The kids were great - and even did well on the flights. Two weeks flew by - now it's back to reality. My son is having a hard time adjusting to only having me around after two weeks of undivided daddy and grandparent attention. We are still a bit jet-lagged and are trying to get used to being back at home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-139046665855334816?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/139046665855334816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/07/where-ive-been.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/139046665855334816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/139046665855334816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/07/where-ive-been.html' title='Where I&apos;ve been'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/TD85wa-k2eI/AAAAAAAABWU/2_BkQV_r3Zg/s72-c/569.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2109069028366470890</id><published>2010-06-19T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T19:39:42.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2nd Father's Day</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow will be our second Father's Day with no dad. For some reason this year is worse than last.&lt;br /&gt;Last year it was so new and fresh, it was really awful. But this year, because it's been so much longer and we know that it is really permanent and that he's really not ever coming back - it's even worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful for the 26 years I did have with my dad. He really was a wonderful man and the best dad a person could ask for.  As much as I will celebrate the dad that he was, tomorrow will be bittersweet because we miss him, we wish he was here and we would like to celebrate with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful that my husband is so understanding  and knows that I  am not thrilled for this holiday. Of course I realize that he is a dad  and needs recognition as well.  We will celebrate him tomorrow but it  will be a sad day as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was looking at all the of the Father's Day cards in the store today, I saw all of the cute cards for Grandpa's and it made me sad that I couldn't get one for him from my kids.&lt;br /&gt;Then I saw the cards for Daddy's from their little girls and it made me sad that my little sister doesn't have him around. She decided to miss the parts of school where they made crafts for their dads. How awful for her. How unfair.&lt;br /&gt;Then I saw the cards for dad's from grown up kids. The long poems about all the special things they did and how thankful the kids are for having a wonderful, loving dad. And that made me sad for myself.&lt;br /&gt;Then I saw the funny cards and it made me smile as I remembered all of the funny cards that my brother and I would get for my dad. We always tried to outdo each other with the funny cards to make dad laugh. He really did have the best sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, like so many other times and holidays, I am sad. But I am grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am truly thankful that God decided to make my dad my dad. Even thought it was shorter than I think it should have been. I wouldn't change it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2109069028366470890?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2109069028366470890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/06/2nd-fathers-day.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2109069028366470890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2109069028366470890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/06/2nd-fathers-day.html' title='2nd Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1602437738503220384</id><published>2010-05-29T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T14:59:34.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when I get older...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;a id="myphotolink" href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=5484822&amp;amp;id=672156413" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(59, 89, 152); text-decoration: none; display: table; margin-top: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: auto; margin-left: auto; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs613.snc3/32250_427663856413_672156413_5484822_2996738_n.jpg" width="604" height="453" id="myphoto" style="border-top-width: 1px; border-right-width: 1px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-width: 1px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-right-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-bottom-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); float: left; cursor: pointer; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;This is my dad's mom, my Granny Lil (and my aunt). We celebrated her 90th birthday this past weekend. It was a very nice party, held at the Western Development Museum. Family came from all over the country and even one from the States. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;Doesn't she look great? She said she gets a lot of comments about her skin and questions about what her secret is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;Her answer? Take vitamins, stay out of the sun and use Avon. Granny has been using Avon since 1942. And her skin looks amazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;I've always been told I take after this side of my family. So hopefully I have inherited these good genes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;Seeing all of the men together was pretty interesting. Especially my dad's brothers.  At times I would hear my dad's voice or see an expression that made me think I was looking at his face. It was a wonderful celebration for my Granny but it was also so hard to be there without my dad. He loved his family so much and it would have been so nice if him and my grandfather could have been there. (They and my cousin's daughter are the only ones in the immediate family that have passed away)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;At one point my brother had to leave the room because he was choked up and it broke my heart. It's not fair. It is so not fair that there are men out there who don't care about their families and abuse them and are deadbeats and they get to go on with their lives while my dad had to die. The whole evening, all I could think was this is a nice time but it's just not fair. I know life isn't fair. I know all the "answers" people would say to me, he's happy in Heaven, it was God's timing, we can't question God. But it's still not fair. He would have had a fabulous time. Maybe God let him have a glimpse of the party...I think it would have made him smile. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;Earlier that day we all went out to the graveyard and planted a tree at my dad's headstone. It was good for all of the family to see it and have that time out there. Maybe it made the party a bit easier, I don't know. Just to have had that grieving part of the day over with so we could all try to be happy at Granny's party.  I'm sure it did make it better for most. Probably a bit harder for us though.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;Overall it was a good weekend. I saw family I hadn't seen for fifteen years, they all got to see all the kids and it was just nice for us all to be together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;It is definitely nice to get together for something other than a funeral...maybe we should do it more often.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1602437738503220384?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1602437738503220384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-i-get-older.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1602437738503220384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1602437738503220384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-i-get-older.html' title='when I get older...'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1597836116120424781</id><published>2010-04-25T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T21:15:33.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>brick wall</title><content type='html'>Today my son randomly said something about Papa being dead and why was Papa dead, how did it happen and on and on.&lt;div&gt;I was in the other room and my husband was a bit shocked but managed to say something about Papa's body not working properly and he died and now he was in Heaven. I, of course got all choked up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It never ends. When you think you are managing a bit better and that life is moving on a bit, just one question brings you back to the start. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I honestly was almost starting to feel like my old self again lately. I've been keeping busy and have felt happy and have been getting things done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I guess this will come and go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But today I am angry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is not fair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am too young to not have a dad. My kids need a grandpa close to them. My mom needs her husband. My sister needs her daddy. My husband needs a Godly man around. My brother needs him. We all need him. And he's gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dear friend is getting married soon. She was like another daughter to him. He would have really enjoyed knowing she met a wonderful guy. Another dear friend just had a baby. Another had twins. Good friends of his just became grandparents. My dad would have been so happy to hear the news. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know all the Biblical answers. God's timing and how our days are numbered from the start, and how this is in the Master Plan. But right now I am struggling to understand how anything good can possibly come out of this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1597836116120424781?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1597836116120424781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/04/brick-wall.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1597836116120424781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1597836116120424781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/04/brick-wall.html' title='brick wall'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-4490024834951215200</id><published>2010-04-24T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T12:04:36.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life these days.</title><content type='html'>So much to write, so little time. &lt;div&gt;Life is busy busy. Babies have been born. (with at least 9 more on the way!) Weddings happening soon. Kids are keeping me on my toes. Trying to get our yard looking half decent. Trying to get our house in order after recently doing some renos (which still need to get finished). Getting rid of baby clothes and accessories feels rather good!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am loving the nice weather.  And missing my dad these days. He would be outside almost non-stop once the weather turned nice. He would be telling us what we should be doing in our yard and planning what to do next in theirs. He would already have his dark brown tan that he got every year. He would be building something fun for my son and all the other kids to play on. And he would be doing lots of BBQ ing :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My GriefShare group will be done next week. I feel as though I've come a long way in the past four months. Of course the pain won't ever be gone. But managing it is better I guess. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This past year has been a huge test of faith for me. I think I've survived, a bit stronger than I thought I was. And maybe I'll be able to articulate my thoughts at some point. But for now, all I can say is that if I wasn't completely sure I needed Jesus in my life before I do now. I do not know how those who grieve can do it without the assurance that their loved ones are in Heaven. I could go on and on. But I am not one to push my faith in one's face. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am still grieving. Will never stop grieving. But I mourn with Hope. And that is what keeps me going day after day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-4490024834951215200?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/4490024834951215200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/04/life-these-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4490024834951215200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4490024834951215200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/04/life-these-days.html' title='Life these days.'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7405371058691603674</id><published>2010-04-03T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T13:10:30.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birth</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks ago I went to the chiropractor. I thought my tailbone was broken from childbirth and so she asked about my birth experiences. (turns out my back pain is my SI joint stuck in place from both pregnancies - painful but getting better)&lt;div&gt;I told her that with my first I had a long labour and eventually had an epidural and IV drugs to speed up my labour. With my second baby, I had a pretty short labour and drug free delivery. She then said, "You sound disappointed that you had an epidural, why is that?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point I got a bit choked up and explained what had happened with my first delivery. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I totally had not realized how emotional I was about my son's birth!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was 23 years old. Had a birthplan that was pretty much disregarded. My water had broken, I had been in labour for 12 hours and was basically forced into having an epidural. (or so I feel - emotions run high when you're in labour) The only reason I was listened to at all was that my mom was with us and is a nurse. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had made up my mind when I was pregnant not to be a martyr and to get drugs if I felt I needed them. However, this was not supported by the nurses that I had for my labour. They kept telling me that I should just get an epidural. They were not very supportive of alternative methods.  I am so thankful that my husband and mom were there to speak for me.  It would have been an even more negative experience had they not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I wasn't dilating fast enough, I was told that my labour could take another 12-24 hours and that getting IV drugs (sintocin) and an epidural would speed things up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; At this point, I was exhausted, discouraged and felt like I really couldn't do it any longer (with little encouragement to just keep going, I guess I gave up) I just wanted to see my baby. I was given the epidural and he was born a short time later. My doctor barely made it to his delivery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; As it happens, my son's heart rate dropped when I was pushing and they had to use the vacuum to try to get him out. He then turned a bit, tore me with his shoulder and I was able to push him out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the long run I am thankful that my son was healthy. That is the most important thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I would have decided to have the epidural on my own, and that's okay, but the fact that I felt pressured into it left me feeling sad and a bit powerless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  I still have resentful feelings towards the staff that was there when he was born and am a bit negative about his birth. My husband and I felt patronized a lot throughout our hospital stay and were thankful when we were able to come home and learn to look after our baby ourselves, our own way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thankfully I had a better experience with my daughter's birth (even with some awful staff again). I was able to deliver her with no drugs and feel like I recovered a lot more quickly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not adamantly against drugs and interventions for childbirth. They have their place - when needed. I just feel like some doctors and nurses are too pushy and really need to take a step back and listen to the person who is giving birth. Women have been giving birth for thousands of years - our bodies know what to do. Yes it is painful but it doesn't last and at the end you have a beautiful baby to hold on to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7405371058691603674?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7405371058691603674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/04/birth.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7405371058691603674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7405371058691603674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/04/birth.html' title='Birth'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7878585348455181319</id><published>2010-03-16T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T08:54:24.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>babyweight</title><content type='html'>My aunt sent me a link to this site:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://theshapeofamother.com/"&gt;http://theshapeofamother.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It inspired me to write this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't lost my baby weight. I have stretchmarks lining my stomach and breasts. My stomach is not flat or smooth. My thighs jiggle a bit. My breasts are big and I will never fit the cute little bras I have sitting in the back of my closet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the stretchmarks show where my babies grew inside me. Like a map of the world, they show where I felt little kicks, punches, rolls and hiccups. My breasts are full of milk to give my daughter the nutrients she needs. My arms may not be trim but they are strong enough to carry my children and a diaper bag and the phone all at the same time. My legs carry me quickly when I hear my child calling for me and can still run up the stairs when my son is scared by the monsters in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may never fit into my wedding dress again. Or the clothes that I have sitting on the floor of my closet, beautiful clothes that make me sigh when I see them. I will not be twenty pounds lighter when I am a bridesmaid in May, like I tricked myself into thinking was more than doable, it was "healthy". I will NEVER wear a bikini, no matter how many ads tell me I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me.&lt;br /&gt;If I lose some more weight, fine. I do not need to drive myself crazy to do so.&lt;br /&gt;If not, my husband still loves me. I am healthy. I am alive.&lt;br /&gt;I need to stop comparing myself to others and be happy that my body let me carry two beautiful, healthy, perfect babies.&lt;br /&gt;Those that cannot get pregant would gladly take stretchmarks and saggy boobs if it meant they could carry a baby.&lt;br /&gt;So I will rejoice in my body. The body that God gave me. I will eat healthy food and run around with my children but I will not obsess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 139: 13-16&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you formed my inward parts;&lt;br /&gt;you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.&lt;br /&gt;I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works;&lt;br /&gt;my soul knows it very well.&lt;br /&gt;My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret,&lt;br /&gt;intricately woven in the depths of the earth.&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes saw my unformed substance;in your book were written, every one of them,&lt;br /&gt;the days that were formed for me,&lt;br /&gt;when as yet there was none of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7878585348455181319?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7878585348455181319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/babyweight.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7878585348455181319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7878585348455181319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/babyweight.html' title='babyweight'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-296003811239155205</id><published>2010-03-15T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T08:10:14.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>conversations</title><content type='html'>This morning my son and I had to have a conversation about how Papa won't have any more birthdays or birthday parties because he is dead and in Heaven. He kept asking, "Cause Papa's dead?" and I would have to say, "yes, Papa is dead."&lt;br /&gt;Did we not tell him this crucial piece of information? I still choke up when I talk to him about his Papa. He's always been told his Papa is in Heaven now, and we've read books about Heaven and what it's like, but did we forget to mention that Papa died? Those days after my dad died are a blur, but I hope one of us sat down with my son and explained it to him. He was only two years old but toddlers are a lot smarter than we give them credit for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We recently celebrated my brother's birthday and then shortly after that, had the little celebration of my dad's life. Soon we will celebrate my aunt's birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think all of this is confusing my son, thus all the questions about Papa's birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope and pray that I am answering these questions correctly and won't further confuse my son.&lt;br /&gt;Parenting is exhausting and I feel at a loss these days...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-296003811239155205?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/296003811239155205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/conversations.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/296003811239155205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/296003811239155205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/conversations.html' title='conversations'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2776784700187339812</id><published>2010-03-11T07:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T08:50:17.968-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A whole year</title><content type='html'>Tuesday is over and I am glad. It wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a family supper with all of my dad's favorite foods. Corn and clam chowder, farmer sausage, homemade bread, ribs, greek salad and for dessert cherry cheesecake and ice cream cake.&lt;br /&gt;After supper we all sat down and shared some favorite memories. Some family that live far away sent their stories to my mom so she read those. I heard some stories I hadn't heard before. My dad was a pretty funny guy. He also got up to lots of trouble with his brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was four, his two older brothers found a case of beer stashed in a barn. They loaded it up into a wagon with my dad sitting on top and went all over town selling the beer. Apparently my dad was the one who ended up selling it to an old bachelor.&lt;br /&gt;My Grandpa was the high school English teacher as well as the Sunday School superintendent and did not drink beer.&lt;br /&gt;He was not impressed.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447416670201220130" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S5kcmZLijCI/AAAAAAAABUg/Mm0MfRrinBo/s400/shanks.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My dad is the smiley guy in the bottom left. I think my son resembles him quite a bit. I showed him this photo and asked him who the smiley boy is and he said, "ME!")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad loved to laugh. Christmas 2006 sticks out in my mind, my aunt and uncle gave my little sister and niece whoopie cushions. They thought that was the best thing in the world and we spent that whole Christmas laughing at the farty noises. My dad most of all, because that's the sense of humor he had. So, my husband and I gave whoopie cushions to all the kids the other night. They thought it was hilarious and it made everyone laugh. It was nice to remember the good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was sad and we all cried while watching the slideshow from the funeral. But it was also nice to laugh about the good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe it's been a year since he died. It has gone by very fast. That awful day still seems like yesterday sometimes. But hopefully the painful memories will recede and we will start to only remember the good stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2776784700187339812?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2776784700187339812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/whole-year.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2776784700187339812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2776784700187339812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/whole-year.html' title='A whole year'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S5kcmZLijCI/AAAAAAAABUg/Mm0MfRrinBo/s72-c/shanks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-6894830717834280555</id><published>2010-03-09T08:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T08:35:53.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One year</title><content type='html'>Miss you Dad  XOXO&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S5Z4yMrzqdI/AAAAAAAABUQ/7oZf9sDhusQ/s1600-h/D.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446673603144952274" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S5Z4yMrzqdI/AAAAAAAABUQ/7oZf9sDhusQ/s400/D.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/193802459744413706-6894830717834280555?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/6894830717834280555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/one-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6894830717834280555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6894830717834280555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/one-year.html' title='One year'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S5Z4yMrzqdI/AAAAAAAABUQ/7oZf9sDhusQ/s72-c/D.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2235392567518207847</id><published>2010-03-07T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T11:01:24.019-08:00</updated><title type='text'>today</title><content type='html'>It's been a year since the last time I saw my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to visit him in the hospital after his surgery. He was in a really good mood for being in lots of pain. We laughed and joked around with him like normal. To this day I wish we had brought our son so he could have seen him one last time. We stayed for almost an hour, I gave him a hug and kiss and that was it. I would never get to see him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was supposed to come home two days later. Instead, a blood clot developed and killed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will sound weird but I don't really want this year to be over. Because it means that now it will be over a year since he was here. Can't explain it any better than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a bundle of nerves these days. Memories are coming back, and with them feelings of dread and extreme sadness. I really hate reliving the day he died. I hate the fact that I was the one who had to call my brother. I hate the fact that I was the one who had to tell my little sister that our daddy was dead. I hate that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not looking forward to March 9th.  But it will come and then it will be gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am telling myself that things are going to be okay. He really wouldn't want us to be sad on that day. He would want us to laugh and joke and tell funny stories about him and to celebrate his life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2235392567518207847?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2235392567518207847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/today.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2235392567518207847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2235392567518207847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/today.html' title='today'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7503398429674035730</id><published>2010-03-02T09:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T19:18:21.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What my husband does in his spare time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thebridgecitizen.com/"&gt;http://thebridgecitizen.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7503398429674035730?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7503398429674035730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-my-husband-does-in-his-spare-time.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7503398429674035730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7503398429674035730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-my-husband-does-in-his-spare-time.html' title=''/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1117434580002741849</id><published>2010-02-23T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T14:24:25.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>everyday</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine recently asked if I still think of my dad everyday. Yes I do.&lt;br /&gt;I started thinking about how often a thought about my dad passes through my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A typical day goes like this:&lt;br /&gt;I wake up, think about what needs to be done during the day, and then remember my dad is dead. It feels like a kick in the stomach. I literally feel sick whenever I am reminded of this. I think about how much I miss him and all that he is missing here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feed my daughter and make my son's breakfast, we play, read some stories and again I am reminded by some unknown force that I have no dad to call and tell what my kids have been up to. Another kick.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;We have lunch, I put my daughter down for her nap and as I hold her in my arms, my eyes well up as I think of how much my dad would have liked to have held her, just once. &lt;br /&gt;Kick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son and I might read or watch some tv or play on the Wii (Nintendo). When I see my dad's Mii character on the Wii and my son says something about what Papa is doing, I get kicked again. I try to talk about happy things with my son and remind him of what fun he used to have with his Papa, but it still makes me sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I make some supper, talk to my mom on the phone and am kicked when I think about her and my little sister alone in their house. No dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the evening, we have some family time, play a game, watch some tv and then put our son to bed. As we pray with our son, we thank Jesus for the good day and ask him to send his angels to watch over us and to say hi to Papa in Heaven. Another little kick. This is a bittersweet time for me as I try to remember that Heaven is way better than here on Earth. But I am still sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we play with our daughter, talk about our day, discuss something that needs doing in our house and get kicked again when reminded that we don't have my dad around to ask advice, put our daughter to bed and go to bed ourselves. My last thought at night is always, oh yeah, dad is really gone, this sucks, don't cry, you don't need to cry, go to sleep. But it never works.&lt;br /&gt;So yes, I do still think about my dad EVERYDAY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1117434580002741849?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1117434580002741849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/02/everyday.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1117434580002741849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1117434580002741849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/02/everyday.html' title='everyday'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1087422018288375825</id><published>2010-02-18T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T10:22:47.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monkey Toast</title><content type='html'>We had a lovely brunch the other day. With lovely company.&lt;br /&gt;Thick white bread with Nutella and banana slices sandwiched in between. Dipped in a chocolate french toast batter and fried to perfection. Topped with chocolate whipped cream. So yummy. &lt;br /&gt;Christened Monkey Toast by my three year old because anything involving bananas and chocolate is associated with monkeys.&lt;br /&gt;Try it sometime. I think we have found our new family holiday favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, my last GriefShare was about kids and grief. It was very interesting. Most things I had heard or realized. The one thing that stuck out in my mind was how kids might regress. Grief affects everything that is going on in life. I realized that when my dad died, our son's potty training flew out the window. I had never put the two together before. Of course! &lt;br /&gt;Of course he stopped. I barely remember those first months now but I remember that they were extremely stressful. No wonder it has taken so long and still continues to be a battle somedays. &lt;br /&gt;Man, I wish I'd realized this sooner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also suggested that people write a letter to children who have lost a parent. Close friends or family can write a letter telling the child how much their loved one meant to them, special memories and things like that. So I am going to write a letter to my little sister. It might not mean a lot now, but when she's older she will really appreciate it. So, if you are family or a friend who knew and loved my dad, you could do the same if so inclined. It would mean a lot to me and will to her as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1087422018288375825?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1087422018288375825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/02/monkey-toast.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1087422018288375825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1087422018288375825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/02/monkey-toast.html' title='Monkey Toast'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-6596801510948082323</id><published>2010-02-16T14:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T14:51:31.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspired</title><content type='html'>I've been inspired by a couple of things lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3sfL3jUNXI/AAAAAAAABUA/mouNQ3TqbSA/s1600-h/fly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 90px; height: 119px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3sfL3jUNXI/AAAAAAAABUA/mouNQ3TqbSA/s400/fly.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438975263731103090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://flylady.net/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who knows me, knows that I hate cleaning with a passion. But now I am inspired to get it done. One baby step at a time. The FlyLady says you can do anything for 15 minutes at a time. She also says that I am not lazy. Which is what I tell myself when I can't keep my house clean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says, "Your problem is that you don't know what to do first and when you decide on a course of action, you are continually spinning your wheels and unable to finish anything. By the end of the day you are exhausted, the house is trashed and you have accomplished nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is exactly my problem, I start something, see something else that needs doing (because I'm a multi-tasker) and start that,and so on. I don't get anything done, then feel as if there's no point because I like things done right and if it's not getting done right it might as well not get done at all. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;FlyLady says to focus on one thing/room for 15 minutes a day. Eventually it will get done. She also says to focus on getting rid of clutter. Are the things we own blessing our house or just taking up space? We have so much crap around that doesn't need to be here. Also, when you buy something, throw out or give away something else. For example when you buy a new pair of shoes, throw out your old ones. We really live in a culture of excess - how many pairs of shoes does one person need?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3sfonnYnmI/AAAAAAAABUI/eegD_iv4ork/s1600-h/lent.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3sfonnYnmI/AAAAAAAABUI/eegD_iv4ork/s400/lent.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438975757669408354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For awhile now I've been asking myself if i'm genuinely interested in people's lives or just nosy. I check everyone's status, look at pictures and "like" people's comments etc. But do I really need to do it 5 times a day? Is this enriching my life?&lt;br /&gt;Is it taking time away from other more important things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started by deleting some of my contacts or friends on facebook. People that I probably wouldn't talk to if I saw them walking on the street. I also (while in a bad, feeling sorry for myself mood) "defriended" the people who didn't write me or acknowledge my dad's death when I KNEW they for sure would have heard about it. Some of them I was very close to while growing up and felt that at least some sort of acknowledgement was necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I am taking a FAST from facebook. For Lent. I might check my own profile once in awhile just to see if anyone has written to me but I am not going to snoop on others profiles or look on the Home page to see what others are up to. As my inspiration for doing this said, I am going to live in the real world for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hopefully with my newfound skills at tackling and cleaning and organizing my house and the free time to do so because I am not constantly checking the computer I will also be a better mother and wife.&lt;br /&gt;I will probably be blogging a bit more too:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-6596801510948082323?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/6596801510948082323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/02/inspired.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6596801510948082323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6596801510948082323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/02/inspired.html' title='Inspired'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3sfL3jUNXI/AAAAAAAABUA/mouNQ3TqbSA/s72-c/fly.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2158332662007413298</id><published>2010-02-12T06:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T06:40:13.294-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Peaches and Cream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3Vniw6y4QI/AAAAAAAABTw/tf6iwVnQrYQ/s1600-h/barbie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 145px; height: 145px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3Vniw6y4QI/AAAAAAAABTw/tf6iwVnQrYQ/s400/barbie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437365972064461058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was little (around 8 or 9 I think) there was a Barbie that every little girl wanted and lots of my friends had. It was called "Peaches and Cream Barbie" She had the most beautiful peach dress with a long flowing skirt and a peach wraparound. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had always heard the term "peaches and cream" and wondered what it would taste like. If they named a Barbie after it, it must be a really wonderful dessert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my dad went out to the store and bought a peach and some real cream. Then he cut up the peach,put it in a bowl and poured some cream over it and gave it to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It tasted awful. Not sweet at all. Not what I was expecting at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I didn't eat it. &lt;br /&gt;What a waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad was probably a bit annoyed. But I don't remember it being a big deal. &lt;br /&gt;I wanted to try it, so he let me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what kind of dad my dad was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3VoJhyiTeI/AAAAAAAABT4/IXCFhnuTa30/s1600-h/peaches.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 129px; height: 97px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3VoJhyiTeI/AAAAAAAABT4/IXCFhnuTa30/s400/peaches.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437366638018186722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2158332662007413298?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2158332662007413298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/02/peaches-and-cream.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2158332662007413298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2158332662007413298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/02/peaches-and-cream.html' title='Peaches and Cream'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/S3Vniw6y4QI/AAAAAAAABTw/tf6iwVnQrYQ/s72-c/barbie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-4935162254329159937</id><published>2010-01-31T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T09:55:34.961-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Letter</title><content type='html'>This is an assignment from the GriefShare support group that I am in. We are supposed to write this and give copies to friends. I choose to share it this way.&lt;br /&gt; I realize some might find it awkward, so it's here if you want to read it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; This past year has been the hardest in my life. My Dad died suddenly and unexpectedly in March. We did not even get to say goodbye to him. Even though it has been almost eleven months, I (and my family) am still hurting. Some days are okay and others I don't want to get out of bed.  It is going to take my family and I a long time to recover from our loss. Please don't rush us.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I want to say thank you to those who have supported me and grieved with me. Thank you for understanding when I have been aloof and angry and sad. Thank you for continuing to be there for me. To those who brought food, and sent cards and did other things to make our family's life easier - thanks so much. &lt;br /&gt; Please understand if I have not been a good friend during this time. I simply have not had the energy to keep up with phone calls and visits. It is not because I don't care about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Right now, we (my whole family) need your prayers. And even if you don't know what to say, a hug or listening ear is great. Don't be scared by my tears. They are necessary. &lt;br /&gt;And Please don't be afraid to mention my dad to any of us. Especially to my little sister and my children. They need to hear how wonderful he was.  It hurts more when you pretend he didn't exist. He was a wonderful man and we need to talk about him. It hurts so much to know that my dad never got to meet my daughter. Having her this year was a wonderful thing - it gave us all some light at the end of the tunnel. But it was very difficult as well. The stress of grieving and having a newborn was more than I could handle somedays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Slowly things are getting easier. But I realize there is no magic number. &lt;br /&gt;I know that God has a plan. Even if it doesn't make sense to me. Like Rick said at my dad's funeral: God doesn't make mistakes - his timing is perfect - even if we don't get it. Dad trusted this. We need to as well. In his wallet he carried around a piece of paper with the verse Isaiah 41:10. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Please continue to check in. A simple note or phone call or visit lets me know you care. Things are never going to be the same again, especially for my mom and sister. We all need lots of time and patience. &lt;br /&gt;And sometimes some practical help. If you want to help out with something, tell us. Don't expect us to ask for help. We won't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Don't be afraid to mention this to me. I am putting it out there on purpose. &lt;br /&gt;Thanks for reading and for continuing to pray for us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-4935162254329159937?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/4935162254329159937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/letter.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4935162254329159937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4935162254329159937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/letter.html' title='A Letter'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5825540317686358389</id><published>2010-01-29T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T10:50:01.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little boys</title><content type='html'>A quote from my three year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son - Do you have a penis mommy?&lt;br /&gt;Me - No, just boys have penises.&lt;br /&gt;Son - lots of boys?&lt;br /&gt;Me - Yes. (trying not to laugh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have had MANY conversations like this. He just can't believe that girls don't have a penis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's also learning how complicated the English language is.&lt;br /&gt;After my husbands' mom left yesterday he said - "I miss Grandma so well". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least he doesn't ask for Beer anymore!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5825540317686358389?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5825540317686358389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/little-boys.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5825540317686358389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5825540317686358389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/little-boys.html' title='Little boys'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1772455984406662701</id><published>2010-01-28T14:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T14:24:07.227-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah Thursday</title><content type='html'>So many things I want to write about, but don't think I'll get it all out today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother-in-law was here for the past two weeks. She left this morning. It was SO nice to have some adult company during the day. She helped me with the kids, did dishes, laundry, swept, let me get some extra sleep, etc etc. My husband's family live on the East Coast so we usually only get to see them once a year. We usually go there in the summer so we can visit with everyone. But this year, I didn't want to travel with a newborn so his parents came to visit in late summer. Then my MIL came out for this visit because the price was right and to spend some more time with the kids. It was great! My son made her read him so many stories - I'm sure she was tired of reading but he loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to have to get out more - having someone around to talk to makes you feel so lonely when they're gone. I love my kids, and talking with my son is great, but he's still only 3!&lt;br /&gt;To top it off, we all now have colds. Perfect. I just mentioned the other day that we've been so healthy this winter so far. Usually it seems like my son has a constant cold during winter, but this one was good. Until now. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many other thoughts I want to get out, but am out of energy. &lt;br /&gt;Plus I still have to figure out what to make for supper. So, I hope to return to faithful blogging soon. One of these days I will actually write more than one post in a week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1772455984406662701?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1772455984406662701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/blah-thursday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1772455984406662701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1772455984406662701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/blah-thursday.html' title='Blah Thursday'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-8808757542905323345</id><published>2010-01-13T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T08:18:59.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prepare yourself</title><content type='html'>grief  /grif/  Show Spelled Pronunciation [greef]  Show IPA &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;–noun &lt;br /&gt;1. keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret. &lt;br /&gt;2. a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have joined a Grief Share group at the church we have been attending.&lt;br /&gt;I went to the first meeting last night. It was quiet, a bit uncomfortable, but good. I'm sure we will all warm up to each other in the coming weeks. &lt;br /&gt;I think it is going to be a good thing for me to actually DEAL with some things rather than pushing them away to deal with "later on".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prepare to be inundated with quotes, comments and thoughts all pertaining to GRIEF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grief is a normal process that will take as much time as it takes. I will not allow others to tell me how long I should be grieving. Or allow others to tell me how I should be grieving. It is an individual, complicated thing. &lt;br /&gt;I am going to do what I need to do. I am going to allow God to show me Compassion and Grace and work with me through this process. &lt;br /&gt;Even Jesus experienced grief. I am not weak because I am grieving. I loved my dad. He died. I am sad. &lt;br /&gt;And I am not over it just because it's been 10 months. Some days it feels like it was yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I told my husband, when you don't ask about or mention anything about my dad, it feels like you don't care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know he cares and is sad as well. But that's how I feel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know someone who's grieving (this is not a call for attention to myself - I know whoever reads this loves me and most of my friends have been wonderful in this way) just send a note or call or let them know you are thinking of them and missing the person they lost too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-8808757542905323345?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/8808757542905323345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/prepare-yourself.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8808757542905323345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8808757542905323345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/prepare-yourself.html' title='Prepare yourself'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-6297110015343750462</id><published>2010-01-03T09:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T09:51:41.738-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a new year</title><content type='html'>2010. I cannot believe Y2K / New Years 2000 was ten whole years ago. I remember that night vividly. I was in grade 12. Excited for everything to come. We had a party at my friends house, hung out, watched some movies, ate some food and thought we were so mature and cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had so many plans and dreams. I was going to move out with some friends for awhile,  travel the world and then go to school. I was going to become a famous photojournalist and not settle down for a long time. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It's so funny how plans change. I did move out with friends, travelled and went to school in Scotland and came home and went to University. But then I got married, quit school, and worked in a flower shop, as a nanny and eventually became the community librarian. Now, I'm back where I started with two kids of my own.  I love my life, but I honestly didn't think I would settle down in the same town I grew up in. It's just worked out this way. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I always knew I wanted to get married and have kids. I just thought it would be a bit later in life. If you had told me I would be where I am now, I would have laughed. Yet I am living a wonderful life. If I had to do it all over again, I would. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do long for adventure, and maybe someday we will move, at least temporarily somewhere exciting. Right now, we are where we should be. I can't imagine leaving now. I need to be close to my mom, sister and grandma. We need each other more than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so lucky that I got to spend as much time with my dad as I did before he died. When I was on maternity leave with my son, we only had one car, so I would call my dad to come pick me up and we would go hang out at my parents house. He would take me shopping at Costco and my son got to know him really well. I will always be thankful for that. Had we not been living around here I wouldn't have known my dad as well. I think I would have a lot of regrets if we had moved away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many thoughts for the New Year. But right now, they are pretty concentrated on my dad. How hard 2009 was. What a rotten thing it is to lose someone unexpectedly. How badly I wish I could have said goodbye and told him how much he meant to me and all of us.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also trying to reconcile that 2009 was a wonderful year. My beautiful daughter was born. That makes it a great year. This is a difficult thing to process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to a New Year. Full of promise and hope. I know God has a lot of things in store for our family and me individually. There's a lot to look forward to. And Like I've said before: every day that I am missing my dad is another day closer to seeing him again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-6297110015343750462?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/6297110015343750462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6297110015343750462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/6297110015343750462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year.html' title='a new year'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-328467125859166465</id><published>2009-12-29T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T08:27:46.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Done</title><content type='html'>I have to admit, I'm glad Christmas is over. It went really well, but apparently I was stressed about it. I get a rash/hives sort of thing when I am really stressed and have had it for about a week now. Hopefully it disappears soon. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Christmas day was fine.Both of my kids were sick so we were up four or five times in the night and then my son was up at 7. We had a nice family time, opening stockings and presents. (My husband spolied me this year) Then my mom,sister, Grandma and aunt and uncle came over for brunch. We ate SO much food! It was great. It was a nice relaxing day.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Later on my brother and sister in law and kids came over. We were in a different house and I think it made things easier. I had some pictures of my dad out but we didn't make a big deal of it which I think was a good thing. We all knew we were all missing him but we really just needed a fun day and focused on the kids. We had some extra family and friends over for supper which made it fun. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; On Sunday, some of my parents oldest friends had us all over. Us kids grew up together and we are more like family than friends. Now, lots of us have kids ourselves and it makes a big group. It was really nice to be together, but probably one of the hardest things to do so far this season for some reason. I have so many memories of the "adults" being in the living room visiting while us "kids" would hang out in the tv room. Every time I went into the living room, I had to remind myself that my dad wouldn't be in there, joking around with everyone. It was a very strange feeling. I've been there since he died but for some reason the Christmas gathering brought back all these memories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am glad it's over. One more check on the list of firsts to do with no dad. Christmas was probably the hardest so far. &lt;br /&gt; I can't believe it is almost a whole year. &lt;br /&gt;2009 will go down as one of the worst for my family. In the space of three months, my second cousin, great uncle and dad died. I think most of my family had a tough Holiday and is ready for 2010 to be better.&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-328467125859166465?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/328467125859166465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/done.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/328467125859166465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/328467125859166465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/done.html' title='Done'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5209889298556346265</id><published>2009-12-21T13:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T13:30:37.099-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I should never have made this...</title><content type='html'>Monkey Munch/Puppy chow/addicting peanut butter treat&lt;br /&gt;9 cups Crispix Cereal (Or Shreddies or whatever you want)&lt;br /&gt;1 cup Semi Sweet Chocolate Chips&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup Smooth Peanut Butter&lt;br /&gt;1/4 Butter&lt;br /&gt;1-2 teaspoon Vanilla&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 cup Icing Sugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Measure cereal into bowl and set aside. Microwave chocolate chips, peanut butter and butter in a bowl on high for 1 minute. Stir. Heat more if needed.  Add vanilla.(I forgot this the last couple of times - no biggie) Pour chocolate mixture over cereal and mix. Pour mixture into large ziplock bag and add icing sugar. (Also helps to add a bit of the sugar before you put the cereal in too) Shake well.  Store in ziplock bag or large sealed bowl (I think it tastes best stored in the freezer).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used white chocolate chips for one batch. Soooo good. But the rest of my family prefers the dark choc. You could try butterscotch, mint choc chips or whatever else you fancy.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't really followed the recipe since the first time I made it and it always turns out just fine. That's the way I like baking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5209889298556346265?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5209889298556346265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-should-never-have-made-this.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5209889298556346265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5209889298556346265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-should-never-have-made-this.html' title='I should never have made this...'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-8644509471038376968</id><published>2009-12-18T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T12:55:42.022-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling blah</title><content type='html'>Already this is harder than I thought it would be. I'm feeling very lonely these days. So glad the weekend is here and my husband will be home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that Christmas will be busy so that's a good thing. I have too much time to think and be sad right now. &lt;br /&gt;I went to my little sister's Christmas concert the other day. That was hard. Usually dad would have seats saved for us nice and early and would help entertain my son. It was just my grandma, son and I at this one. My mom went to the evening concert. It made me sad that my little sister had to see all the other parents out there, knowing that her dad wasn't there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is missing so much. I really wish he was here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is going to be so weird without him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-8644509471038376968?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/8644509471038376968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/feeling-blah.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8644509471038376968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8644509471038376968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/feeling-blah.html' title='Feeling blah'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-8981455546751663122</id><published>2009-12-16T07:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T07:34:48.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The path of Peace</title><content type='html'>This is a post from my first blog - December, 2005&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because of the tender mercy of our God,&lt;br /&gt;by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven&lt;br /&gt;to shine on those living in darkness&lt;br /&gt;and in the shadow of death,&lt;br /&gt;to guide our feet into the path of peace."&lt;br /&gt;Zechariah's song, Luke 1:78,79&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love these verses. &lt;br /&gt;This is what Christmas is about. Our Messiah coming to save us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-8981455546751663122?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/8981455546751663122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/path-of-peace.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8981455546751663122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8981455546751663122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/path-of-peace.html' title='The path of Peace'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7590077790986282080</id><published>2009-12-09T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T11:46:24.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One day at a time</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to be happy these days. But the sadness creeps in at unexpected times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my new thought is, every day that I miss my dad, that he is gone, is one day closer to seeing him again in Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7590077790986282080?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7590077790986282080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/one-day-at-time.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7590077790986282080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7590077790986282080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/one-day-at-time.html' title='One day at a time'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-715427454568609686</id><published>2009-12-01T09:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T08:31:04.048-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Motherhood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SxflSHxw-KI/AAAAAAAABTA/FhyATZ8iQYc/s1600-h/S5020798.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SxflSHxw-KI/AAAAAAAABTA/FhyATZ8iQYc/s400/S5020798.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411045576797124770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't have a baby because you want a baby, have a baby because you want to be a parent."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The other night my little sister asked me why I liked being a mom. I didn't know how to answer. Why do I like being a mom? Why did I want to be a mom?  Because I love my kids? Because I love taking care of them? Because they are the most wonderful gifts from God? Of course, but her question got me thinking about motherhood.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I have always loved kids. I started babysitting when I was eleven and didn't stop until I had my own kids. My niece was born when I was 16 and I was thrilled. My little sister was born when I was 18 and I was the happiest big sister there ever was. So I thought having my own would be the most wonderful thing in the world. I remember thinking that if I ever got pregnant I would be happy every day of the pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took almost a year for me to get pregnant, at times I wondered if it would ever happen. So,we were a bit shocked when we found out. We were excited and scared. We had very little money and no benefits but knew that things would be okay. And it was. My husband got his present job (with benefits)three weeks after our son was born. Life was great. We loved being parents. We couldn't believe how boring our life was before him.  Our son is wonderful. It wasn't all fun though, I have to say the first year after becoming parents was the hardest year of our marriage so far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when our son was two we thought it'd be nice to have another one. Again, it took a long time. The day I went to my Doctor to start fertility treatment (I have pcos) I found out I was pregnant! We were thrilled. Our daughter has been such a gift. I truly believe that I would have let myself sink when my dad died had I not been pregnant. She was our light at the end of the dark tunnel. Watching our children play is one of my favorite things. They love each other so much already. My son gets concerned when she cries, and her little face lights up whenever she sees her brother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a mom is hard. It is full of worry and guilt. It is sleepless nights and anxious days. You wonder if you are doing everything right, if you discipline properly, if your child is well behaved, if your child is eating a proper diet, if they are going to grow up to be caring, loving, well mannered, functioning adults and on and on it goes. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Motherhood is also the best thing in the world. Listening to giggles, getting hugs, being told, "I love you.", hearing your child pray, watching them play and discover the world, being so excited about new things.  These are the things that make it all worth it. Seeing my husband's face light up when he looks at our kids gives me joy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder God used his only son to demonstrate how powerful he loves us. It is a love that is so strong you cannot even describe it. It feels like your heart will burst.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I love being a mom. Why? A million reasons, I'd have to write a book to list them all. It is the best job I've ever had.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-715427454568609686?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/715427454568609686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/motherhood.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/715427454568609686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/715427454568609686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/12/motherhood.html' title='Motherhood'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SxflSHxw-KI/AAAAAAAABTA/FhyATZ8iQYc/s72-c/S5020798.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-156540588553535882</id><published>2009-11-27T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T10:34:46.917-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those days.</title><content type='html'>Today is one of those days where I wish I could have just stayed in bed. &lt;br /&gt;My son is being three. (not obeying, getting into everything, won't eat what he's given, did I mention not obeying?). My house is a mess. My back is killing me. My daughter won't nap for longer than 1/2 an hour and is grumpy. I am tired. And I haven't seen my husband all week.&lt;br /&gt;I feel guilty about complaining about that though. My mom never gets to see her husband again. (in this life). So what do I have to complain about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am just sad. My post on Sept.25 accurately describes how I am feeling today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am still thankful.(It was American Thanksgiving yesterday after all) For everything God has given me. I have two beautiful, healthy children, a great husband, wonderful family, friends and neighbours, a warm house, food, and so much more than I deserve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am sad, and thankful today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-156540588553535882?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/156540588553535882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/one-of-those-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/156540588553535882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/156540588553535882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of those days.'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1340581829063619718</id><published>2009-11-26T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T06:58:59.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'>creativity</title><content type='html'>The other day, my little sister was over. We love to bake together. I started letting her add things into the bowl when she was two and she always asks if we can make something when she's over. So we made some pumpkin muffins. I had some leftover icing from a birthday so thought I'd let her and my son decorate the muffins. Healthier than cupcakes but still a "treat".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son's masterpiece:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/Sw6VbgfM6fI/AAAAAAAABSo/SicfYNYoZQQ/s1600/Nov.25+09+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/Sw6VbgfM6fI/AAAAAAAABSo/SicfYNYoZQQ/s400/Nov.25+09+013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408424502328355314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little sister's:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/Sw6VbbTAQUI/AAAAAAAABSg/RD2o_RoMKIc/s1600/Nov.25+09+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/Sw6VbbTAQUI/AAAAAAAABSg/RD2o_RoMKIc/s400/Nov.25+09+015.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408424500935016770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to get excited to do some Christmas baking! She told me she wants to make fudge this year...:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1340581829063619718?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1340581829063619718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/creativity.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1340581829063619718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1340581829063619718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/creativity.html' title='creativity'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/Sw6VbgfM6fI/AAAAAAAABSo/SicfYNYoZQQ/s72-c/Nov.25+09+013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3626965655697877771</id><published>2009-11-24T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T11:05:23.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of the mouths of babes</title><content type='html'>My husband occasionally has a beer. Our son knows it is not a kids drink and to never try some. (But knows what it looks like) To further discourage him we thought we'd let him smell it. He ended up liking the smell. I thought he would think it was yucky. (because I do)&lt;br /&gt;The other night we had a family supper to celebrate my little sister's birthday. Everyone was at my mom's house. The kids were at the table eating and my son had a glass of white grape juice. Everyone was talking and there was a pause, then nice and clear I heard my son say, "I WANT MORE BEER!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just hope he never has juice when we're at a lunch at church or something!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3626965655697877771?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3626965655697877771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/out-of-mouths-of-babes.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3626965655697877771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3626965655697877771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/out-of-mouths-of-babes.html' title='Out of the mouths of babes'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7541759494181772532</id><published>2009-11-20T05:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T07:28:30.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging</title><content type='html'>7:30 am. Son went to bed at 10:30 last night and was still up at 7. He is now drinking some milk and watching a dvd beside me. I let him watch dvd's first thing when I am really tired. (pretty much everyday)  Baby girl is still asleep, although I heard her stirring through the monitor. I really need to get her on a regular routine. Maybe she would start sleeping though the night again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love reading blogs. When I have time. I have a few regular ones that I check out at least once a week. Some are friends of mine, some are friends of friends and some are just random people that I've seen links to from somewhere. Most of them are moms.&lt;br /&gt;The ones I love are the ones that make me laugh, think or cry. They are real and honest and encouraging and help me realize that I'm not alone in this journey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some that leave me feeling guilty or not good enough so I've stopped reading those. You know who they are; the supermoms who only give their kids organic food, take amazing photos, live in gorgeous houses, write beautifully, are talented and creative, are amazing Christians who inspire and are oh so Spiritual. They don't let their kids watch tv and they homeschool. When I read those blogs, I find myself lacking and not good enough. So I've stopped reading those ones. &lt;br /&gt;I have enough guilt in my day to day life. I don't need someone I don't even know making me feel like my life isn't good enough. I know this is not their intent, but sometimes it seems like they are saying, "look at me, aren't I the best mom/wife/Christian/friend/neighbour?" I should feel inspired to do better, not inadequate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us moms have enough pressure. There is constant competition. My kid walked earlier, my kid talked earlier, look how well my kid behaves, my baby has always slept through the night, my 9 month old already has the books of the Bible memorized, watch my four year old play Moonlight Sonata, my three year old loves broccoli, my kid was potty trained at 1 year and so on. (of course these are exaggerations - I tend to do that a lot on here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I would write about accomplishments and feel proud of them, but I would want others to feel proud WITH me, not envious. And hopefully I would not appear boastful. So forgive me if I ever do seem boastful. I don't mean to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'm done. Forgive my ramble. I always start my post with one thought in mind and then end up going on about a another topic. That is the way my brain works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now 8:30 am. I have since gotten my daughter up, helped my son do a puzzle, wiped two snotty noses, pet the Tiger (son) and watched him do some tricks, changed a diaper, explained to the Tiger why he cannot colour on the puzzle, and even had time to drink a cup of coffee.&lt;br /&gt; And I think this is the fastest I have ever gotten a post done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Thessalonians 5:11 (New International Version)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7541759494181772532?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7541759494181772532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/blogging.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7541759494181772532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7541759494181772532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/blogging.html' title='Blogging'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5682765421324555617</id><published>2009-11-18T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T12:32:57.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day something or other</title><content type='html'>I had two cookies today. Oh well. I haven't completely cut out sugar but am doing ok. I don't put any in my tea. I don't eat chocolate everyday. I let myself have a treat every once awhile because otherwise I will go crazy. Lately, we've been eating supper a bit later and then haven't been snacking at all in the evening, which is great!&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I've lost any weight so far. &lt;br /&gt;Nine months to put the weight on - should take around that to lose it. &lt;br /&gt;I am jealous of women that lose all of their baby weight while breastfeeding. I am not like that. I have been breastfeeding my daughter for four months and have barely lost anything. It is not the miracle diet that all of the magazines say it is!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5682765421324555617?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5682765421324555617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-something-or-other.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5682765421324555617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5682765421324555617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-something-or-other.html' title='Day something or other'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5081867946964453267</id><published>2009-11-09T08:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T08:34:40.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>eight</title><content type='html'>8 months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Dad,&lt;br /&gt; I wish you could see my kids. I wish you could see how much they love each other already. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I wish you could have been at the birthday party yesterday. It was fun and loud and all the kids running around everywhere would have driven you crazy :)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I am almost done Christmas shopping, whenever I open a catalogue or go into a store I see something you would have liked. A huge flashlight with tons of gadgets on it or a canvas bag with a picture of a moose on it. I really wish you could have been here for the baby's first Christmas.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You are missing D's birthday soon. She will be 9. I remember the day she was born. You called me and told me I had a little sister, just like I'd always wanted. When I got to the hospital you were sitting in the rocking chair holding her close and had the hugest smile on your face. You and mom were so happy! &lt;br /&gt;She is a great little girl.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You are missing so much. We are missing you so much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I read a book about Heaven. It helped a bit. You are happy there. You probably don't miss us like we miss you. You know we will be there in the blink of an eye. But right now, here, we'd rather have you with us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to remember that you are happy. I'll try not to be selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish you were here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5081867946964453267?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5081867946964453267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/eight.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5081867946964453267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5081867946964453267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/eight.html' title='eight'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-4880786936548042056</id><published>2009-11-09T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T08:38:48.165-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nov.9, 09</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I feel like if I let myself cry, I will never stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-4880786936548042056?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/4880786936548042056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/sometimes-i-feel-like-if-i-let-myself.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4880786936548042056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4880786936548042056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/sometimes-i-feel-like-if-i-let-myself.html' title='Nov.9, 09'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-4656890371167903439</id><published>2009-11-05T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T07:57:59.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 so far</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was not so good. I am a stress eater and gave in and had some chocolate. ugh. We are all sick with colds so it was a long day.&lt;br /&gt; I sent the Halloween candy to my husband's work so at least it's out of here. Today has been good so far though. I need to not worry about messing up and just keep going. &lt;br /&gt;I've decided that I have to have fruit on this diet. I'm supposed to be eliminating anything that has sugar, natural or not. However, I am breastfeeding and figure that I need my fruit. Plus with all of the sickness going on around here, the vitamins etc will be helpful. This morning we had a strawberry-mango smoothie. It was yummy and totally satisfied my sugar craving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I had pretty much decided that we would take my son and get him immunized against the H1N1 flu. We were going to go today, but now have to wait until this cold is gone. So I will probably change my mind a million more times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is supposed to be warm out today so we are going to get out and go for a nice long walk and maybe go to the park to play. Hoping today is a better day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is the longest I've gone without crying. It's been at least 5 days. Wonder what that means...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son wanted to write a story too: (he's learning his letters)&lt;br /&gt;ooolllllfffffffbbbbgggggggggcccccccccczzzzzzzzzzzzzqqqqqqqqqqaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-4656890371167903439?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/4656890371167903439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-3-so-far.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4656890371167903439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4656890371167903439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-3-so-far.html' title='Day 3 so far'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5768842738735706814</id><published>2009-11-02T07:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T07:23:59.275-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1</title><content type='html'>It's only 9:18am. &lt;br /&gt;Day 1 of my sugar free diet. I am already craving it. &lt;br /&gt;The Halloween candy is taunting me. &lt;br /&gt;I want a cup of tea with milk and sugar. I want a lemon poppyseed muffin and toast with homemade strawberry jam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can do this. I have willpower. I am a bridesmaid in May. I can do this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5768842738735706814?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5768842738735706814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-1.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5768842738735706814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5768842738735706814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-1.html' title='Day 1'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3385924714752364666</id><published>2009-10-31T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T08:57:25.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another day without him</title><content type='html'>First Halloween without my dad. Not that Halloween was a big deal in our house, but he always liked giving out candy and counting how many kids came to the door each year.&lt;br /&gt;Wish he was here to see how cool my son looks in his Batman costume and how adorable my daughter looks in her little Winnie-the-pooh outfit. And how creative my little sister is by dressing up as a mime. He would have loved that. He also probably would have been giving her all sorts of tips on how to act like a mime and how her makeup should be etc. He was always a very involved parent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to be measuring time by before he died and after. My niece's 1st birthday - he was here. Next weekend, for her 2nd, he won't be. It's so strange. He was here last Christmas, this one will be weird. I'm kind of dreading it. But it's also my daughter's first Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past couple of days have been okay, maybe I'm accepting it better or maybe I'm avoiding thinking about it. I don't really know. But I do like not crying every time I think about him. Then I feel guilty. Which I know I shouldn't. The amount I have cried doesn't equal the amount I loved him. He would not want me to be sad all the time. He would hate that actually. It's so confusing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mourning is a tough process.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3385924714752364666?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3385924714752364666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/another-day-without-him.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3385924714752364666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3385924714752364666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/another-day-without-him.html' title='Another day without him'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-8639167071010415891</id><published>2009-10-25T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T07:40:23.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>reality</title><content type='html'>I saw the headstone for the first time today. Went by myself to the graveyard. I know he's not there. I know he is happy in Heaven. I know all of this in my head. But I honestly don't care. I want him back here. I get really tired of hearing he's in a better place,he's with Jesus, he's not in pain, blah blah blah. I know people mean well, but I just don't want to hear those things. Some days they do help, and make it a bit easier but most days those things just annoy me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The headstone doesn't say much. We had too much to put on there so just left it plain. Beloved husband, father, grandpa, son, brother, son-in-law, father-in-law, brother-in-law, uncle, friend, like a father, and on and on it goes. How do you sum up a life in a sentence?&lt;br /&gt;For my dad, you cannot. He was so wonderful. I miss him. Reality sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-8639167071010415891?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/8639167071010415891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/reality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8639167071010415891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8639167071010415891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/reality.html' title='reality'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7484678162611023796</id><published>2009-10-23T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T10:08:10.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>another jumble of thoughts</title><content type='html'>I have been missing my dad so much lately. Well actually I don't think the amount I miss him changes at all. It's the amount of time I have to think about it. The kids and I have been sick so have been stuck at home this week. I'm finding that not getting out and keeping busy makes a big difference with how I feel. It's going to be hard to get out a lot this winter with the threat of flues (is that how you spell it?) and colds etc. Especially since I've decided against the vaccines for our family. I will have to figure out something to keep me sane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I have had a number of people let me know that they too are missing my dad and thinking of him and us too which has been so nice to hear. I think we all had been feeling like people just didn't want to talk about him because they didn't want to upset us or something like that. But just having someone say to me, "I miss your dad" is so meaningful. I know my mom feels like she is avoided now because people are glad they aren't in her situation. I don't think they do it on purpose, it's just a self preservation thing. So actually having someone acknowledge that he isn't around and that they are thinking of us or to just even mention his name is a good thing. He is still my dad and was a huge part of my life. I won't pretend that he didn't exist. I need to talk about him and I really feel like we all need to continue to talk about him with each other, especially my little sister. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I worry that my depression is coming back. It's hard to know how much of this sadness is normal grieving and how much is not. I don't think it's normal when I feel paralyzed with sadness and can't even get the energy to clean my bathroom or walk downtown to get the mail or cook a meal. I know there really is no "normal" for grieving - it is a personal thing. But it's been almost 8 months. Maybe it's my normal...I don't know. I've never dealt with stress very well. Plus I have a three month old. I'll just use that as my excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been struggling with major anxiety lately. Driving with my kids makes me nervous, which hasn't been an issue for a long time. We went watersliding a couple of weeks ago and I could only take my son down twice. I got very nervous at the top and  held onto his hand so tight I'm sure I was hurting him. I kept imagining him falling over the side.  When my friend took him down, she held him up over the railing to wave at me, I could hardly stand it and had to tell her not to do that anymore. It literally makes me feel ill to remember that now. Again, maybe this is my "normal" response to stress and how I'm dealing with my issues. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I was supposed to be getting another dishwasher next week to replace the dud that we bought in September. Got a phone call today and a man should be here this afternoon to install a brand new one! If that ACTUALLY happens and it ACTUALLY works, I will be very surprised and happy. We went last week and picked out a better model. We paid more but because we are getting $150 back for our "inconvenience" we thought it would make sense to put that back on to a better model. I have now paid for two dishwashers in the past four weeks. They won't refund me until the old one is out of our house. But I still had to pay for the new one even though it isn't in our house yet - make sense? not to me... oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some questions I've been asking myself lately :&lt;br /&gt;Why does my three year old have six accidents one day and none the next?&lt;br /&gt;Why does he wake up at 6am the day that I feel absolutely awful and could use some extra sleep?&lt;br /&gt;Why does my baby cry when I am starting to wash some dishes or cook something?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I the one who should be buying cat litter when I don't even know we need it? (it is my husband's official job to do cat litter)&lt;br /&gt;Am I a bad mom for letting my son watch three movies in one day?&lt;br /&gt;Why does my son ask for grilled cheese and then cry when it is set in front of him?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I not losing this baby weight? (I actually know the answer to this one - I eat too much and am not exercising enough)&lt;br /&gt;Why won't I exercise more? &lt;br /&gt;Why oh why can't I just clean my house? &lt;br /&gt;Why won't things stay clean when I actually DO clean them?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I afraid of spiders and not ladybugs?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't ladybugs come in my house instead of spiders?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7484678162611023796?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7484678162611023796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/another-jumble-of-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7484678162611023796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7484678162611023796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/another-jumble-of-thoughts.html' title='another jumble of thoughts'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3242879103399619901</id><published>2009-10-19T10:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T11:28:22.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>6 Years Already?</title><content type='html'>Today is my sixth wedding anniversary. I cannot believe how fast that has gone.&lt;br /&gt;I was 21, my husband was 23. We had a six week engagement. &lt;br /&gt;Contrary to rumors,I was not pregnant (I actually believe in waiting until you're married, I was a virgin).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just simply decided to get married. My husband had moved here from the East coast in April and we had pretty much thought we would get married the next summer. However, my brother and his girlfriend had just gotten engaged and planned to get married the next summer too and we thought two weddings in one family, in the same summer was a bit much. I was living with my parents, he in the city and it just seemed easiest and made sense financially to get married sooner. Most importantly we were in love, knew we were meant to be together and thought why not? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had  a great day, everything went well. I worked at a flower shop at that time so did all of my flowers. I hired my friend's mom to do the catering (desserts and specialty coffees). A good friend of ours got ordained for a week just to perform our wedding. Hired a co-worker of my mom's to take photos. My bridesmaids even had their dresses made! My in-laws made it out here for the weekend and met my parents for the first time. That was the only time our dad's met - but they hit it off great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day, people talk about how fast our engagement was. It was great though! I don't think I could have handled a long engagement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six years, one house, two kids, three cats, four vehicles and a partridge in a pear tree!&lt;br /&gt;We've survived being poor, new jobs, my depression, being far away from family and the loss of my dad. It hasn't always been easy or fun but we work on things together and are still very much in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to 60 more!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3242879103399619901?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3242879103399619901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/6-years-already.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3242879103399619901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3242879103399619901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/6-years-already.html' title='6 Years Already?'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-5919452959384248620</id><published>2009-10-14T13:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T13:28:45.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diswasher saga part 22</title><content type='html'>The first load is currently being washed. Two weeks later. &lt;br /&gt;I am waiting for the phone call that the money is being put back on my credit card. Otherwise I will be waiting on hold for another hour to talk to customer service. &lt;br /&gt;Why can't things be easy? Why didn't it just work to begin with? Because life is messy. And like I've said to many  - my life is a metaphor. I am a dishwasher - meant to deal with dirty stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, I am currently researching the H1N1 immunization. Wondering whether I should be giving it to my three year old. My baby is not old enough. I told my mother that there are articles and blogs and sites on the internet that support both sides. Who do you believe? Do you pray for protection and that your kids aren't exposed? Doesn't God give knowledge to health professionals? Is it being tested properly? Do more kids really die from vaccinations than the diseases themselves? I don't know the answers. I don't know if there is one answer. I will keep searching.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-5919452959384248620?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/5919452959384248620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/diswasher-saga-part-22.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5919452959384248620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/5919452959384248620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/diswasher-saga-part-22.html' title='Diswasher saga part 22'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1717803948862736012</id><published>2009-10-13T07:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T07:49:00.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dreams</title><content type='html'>I've only had a couple of dreams about my dad since he died. In them I usually don't know that he is gone.&lt;br /&gt;Last night I dreamt we lived in our old house, on our acreage. My little sister was wandering around outside in the dark and I was trying to get her to come back. When she did, my dad was there. I really don't remember a lot after that, except that I gave him a hug and didn't want to let go and told him that I needed him. I think I knew he wasn't staying. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I like dreaming about him because it seems so real, but I don't like waking up and remembering that he's not here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1717803948862736012?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1717803948862736012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1717803948862736012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1717803948862736012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/dreams.html' title='dreams'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-4406206514379550804</id><published>2009-10-09T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T10:41:01.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dishwasher saga part 9</title><content type='html'>Still not fixed. Talked to customer service for the umpteenth time today. He offered me $50 compensation. I said Not good enough, what's the best you can do for me? He said $150. I said, OK.&lt;br /&gt;We shall see if it actually gets fixed today...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-4406206514379550804?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/4406206514379550804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/dishwasher-saga-part-9.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4406206514379550804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/4406206514379550804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/dishwasher-saga-part-9.html' title='Dishwasher saga part 9'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3595063739227372946</id><published>2009-10-06T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T12:17:42.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>?</title><content type='html'>We moved our tv into a different room yesterday. It wasn't working properly and I just couldn't figure it out. Then I thought, "I should just call dad, he'll know what to do." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on, I was walking home from the post office with my son. We had run into a friend of my parents there and chatted a bit and heard some good news. I had the same thought, "I need to call dad and tell him."&lt;br /&gt;Then I remembered that I can never call him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is my brain not working properly?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3595063739227372946?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3595063739227372946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3595063739227372946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3595063739227372946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html' title='?'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-8157632293189670551</id><published>2009-10-05T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T16:29:52.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tomorrow, tomorrow</title><content type='html'>Last week I did not get my dishwasher. Well I did get it but it didn't work. Tomorrow the repair man is coming to fix the little part that is broken.&lt;br /&gt;Will this be the end of my dishwashing saga? &lt;br /&gt;tune in to find out...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-8157632293189670551?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/8157632293189670551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/tomorrow-tomorrow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8157632293189670551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/8157632293189670551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/tomorrow-tomorrow.html' title='tomorrow, tomorrow'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-618494692131288171</id><published>2009-10-02T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T11:56:01.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty from Ashes</title><content type='html'>Passage Isaiah 61:3:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     To all who mourn in Israel,&lt;br /&gt;      he will give a crown of beauty for ashes,&lt;br /&gt;   a joyous blessing instead of mourning,&lt;br /&gt;      festive praise instead of despair.&lt;br /&gt;   In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks&lt;br /&gt;      that the Lord has planted for his own glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always liked this verse but haven't really grasped it's meaning until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a good chat with my mother in law this morning. Won't go into details but it's just so interesting how God works. He's taken heartache and pain and made good from them. It's not that the ashes never existed, they aren't forgotten, but he has made something good rise from them. My daughter is an example of this beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my dad. I always will. But God can use this experience for good. It won't be that my pain never existed and I will never forget my dad or the sorrow that his dying caused. But I can try and help others who have gone through loss. Just like my mother in law has helped me.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;After my dad died, my mom and I talked about how we now know how to help others deal with a death. Until you go through it you just don't know. The people that came and brought food and took care of all the little details were so awesome. They also cried with us - which was also helpful for some reason. I know our whole family was grateful for these people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know how to help others when a tragedy strikes. I also know that sometimes words don't mean anything and that sometimes it's better not to say anything at all then to say something trite. Sometime, just crying with the person who is sad is enough. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;God knows what he's doing even when we don't. He can turn my mourning into joy and make something beautiful from the ashes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-618494692131288171?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/618494692131288171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/beauty-from-ashes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/618494692131288171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/618494692131288171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/10/beauty-from-ashes.html' title='Beauty from Ashes'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2198655204498162951</id><published>2009-09-28T09:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T09:46:36.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Offically Fall</title><content type='html'>It is officially Fall and the start of cold season.&lt;br /&gt;We all have colds in our house. Two sneezy, snotty kids. Two sneezy snotty, grumpy parents. But the daddy gets to escape to his office for the day. Lucky guy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least my kids aren't grumpy and whiny. Kids, unlike adults don't really notice that they are sick until there is a giant booger hanging out of their nose.&lt;br /&gt;Adults, on the other hand usually get whiny and grumpy and need extra attention and just want to lie in bed all day. Unfortunately I don't have that option.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note: tomorrow my life as a dishwasher ends! We are getting a real, brand new dishwasher. It was on sale and we actually agreed on it! (We agreed on three different things that day - there must have been something in the air)&lt;br /&gt;So today I will wash the pile of dishes on the counter and enjoy it! Well, probably not enjoy it but I will know that that is one of the last times I will have to do it so I will be filled with joy and anticipation! Or at least relief. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a nice weekend, even though we were all sick. We didn't worry about cleaning, laundry and dishes.(I have to say though that my husband did do a sinkload of dishes - thank you honey!) We watched tv, did some baking, relaxed and got along. We laughed at our kids and at each other. Last night my husband and I stuck our son in the bathtub, ate some jerk chicken nachos and watched "The Amazing Race". It was lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have realized my house will probably never be clean, there will be way too many loads of laundry to keep up with and that our toilet will always have to be wiped before I can sit down (my three year old son's aim is pretty good but he dribbles :)  but I will have a dishwasher to do those dishes and more time to read stories to my kids and drive trucks around on the floor and play peek a boo. This is what I have realized my kids will remember. They won't remember if the house was dusted, or what brands of clothes they wore or if their food was organic or not. &lt;br /&gt;They will remember if I was happy (which I am really trying to be - even though I don't feel like it somedays) and if I played with them and if I got along with their dad and if made them feel special. This is my goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I was a teenager, hearing someone say that if kids see their parents eyes light up when they walk into a room, they will know they are loved. I've never forgotten that. &lt;br /&gt;That is the kind of parent I want to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2198655204498162951?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2198655204498162951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/offically-fall.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2198655204498162951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2198655204498162951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/offically-fall.html' title='Offically Fall'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1630889597167527544</id><published>2009-09-25T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T13:53:56.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sad</title><content type='html'>I cannot even come close to articulating my thoughts today. &lt;br /&gt;I miss my dad like crazy. I don't know why it's so hard right now. Most days these past couple of months have been ok. But the past couple of days I have been so sad and lonely and just wishing that things were different. I think maybe I'm finally realizing that he's not ever coming back. Ive known that's he's gone but maybe haven't really believed it. That doesn't make sense but there's no other way to put it. I think I've been waiting for him to show up. It's so weird.&lt;br /&gt;Sad doesn't describe how I feel. I feel like part of me is missing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1630889597167527544?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1630889597167527544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/sad.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1630889597167527544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1630889597167527544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/sad.html' title='sad'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7175764027381747067</id><published>2009-09-22T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T07:50:16.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>First birthday without my dad.&lt;br /&gt;I miss him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7175764027381747067?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7175764027381747067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-birthday-without-my-dad.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7175764027381747067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7175764027381747067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-birthday-without-my-dad.html' title=''/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1955774899623568647</id><published>2009-09-19T15:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T15:44:29.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Check this out:</title><content type='html'>http://fatrantblog.wordpress.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1955774899623568647?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1955774899623568647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/check-this-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1955774899623568647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1955774899623568647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/check-this-out.html' title='Check this out:'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2080115849490509524</id><published>2009-09-18T07:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T09:00:52.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unrealistic expectations:</title><content type='html'>Just one week later:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicole Richie steps out with Harlow one week postpartum — x17Online.com &lt;br /&gt;(copy and paste - I can't get a link to work)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://x17online.com/celebrities/nicole_richie/x17_xclusive_nicole_looks_amazing_just_one_week_after_giving_birth-09162009.php&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I usually don't read anything that has to do with celebrities - except one blog that always has interesting articles and links.  Upon seeing that link I was just a bit irritated. No wonder we have unrealistic expectations of ourselves. If a celebrity can shed her baby weight that fast - so can we! right?&lt;br /&gt;   Of course she probably has a nanny to help with the older child. A baby nurse to look after the baby at night. A maid to clean her house. A chef to cook nutritious meals. And a personal trainer to get rid of that baby bulge. &lt;br /&gt;   It it ridiculous to expect anyone to be back to "normal" that soon after giving birth. No one should expect it and a celebrity certainly shouldn't be praised for doing it. This just causes us to feel worse about ourselves, which we don't need when we are sleep deprived and hormonal.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   Five weeks after giving birth someone commented that when I wanted to start working on my stomach, situps would be useful. Can I just enjoy my baby without having to worry about what my stomach looks like? I was stressed enough. That added pressure didn't help anything and only served to frustrate me.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;Of course I would like to be back to "normal" (actually I would like to be back at the weight I was when I was 21. I digress...) But I would like to stay sane in the process.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;One nurse said to me "Remember, it takes nine months to gain the weight, so it should take at least nine months to get rid of it." Good advice that every new mom should be given.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;The main point (which my aunt is very keen on) is to be healthy. Weight/size shouldn't be the issue. I am breastfeeding (which is a whole other post) and cannot diet. &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;I know I could be eating a bit healthier but I do a pretty good job most of the time. Eating healthy is a big deal for me because I have a three year old who needs it. (more post material) I get a bit of exercise chasing after my son and going for walks but could be doing more of that too. The thing is having TIME to do it. When both kids are napping (which is a rare occurence) I do not want to be doing situps. I want to read a book or check my email or blog! I want to enjoy my kids, not constantly be thinking about how fat I am when I am holding them or playing with them.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   I need to worry less about this. I need to concentrate on being a good mom. I need to just be healthy and not think about what the scale says. I need to remember that my husband doesn't care about the way I look and loves me just as much as he always has and that he is the only one whose opinion I should care about anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I need to remember all of this when I see photos of skinny Hollywood moms. Better yet I need to not even look at the photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*for the record* &lt;br /&gt;In the previous blog when stating all of the things that I "should be" I was being caustic. Obviously I don't expect to be any of those things. I was just trying to get the point across that this is what is the perfect mom is. Of course in a perfect world I would like to be all of those things. But I understand that this is unrealistic. Those are the ideal today and I know that &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;no one actually expects me to be any of those things&lt;/span&gt;. It is not feasible. There are so many unrealistic expectations out there and I was trying to say that what "society" expects is not reasonable and that striving to be any of those things will only drive you crazy. I was simply feeling overwhelmed with everything that was being pushed at me and felt like I wasn't even coming close to accomplishing a fraction of what I should have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2080115849490509524?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2080115849490509524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/unrealistic-expectations.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2080115849490509524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2080115849490509524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/unrealistic-expectations.html' title='Unrealistic expectations:'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-1495112233412148697</id><published>2009-09-17T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T07:46:16.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This morning I am ignoring dishes and heading over to a friends house. Our boys will play and I will get a chance to visit with another adult. The house can wait - no one will see it but my husband and myself and he could care less. And I know that it will eventually get done. *deep breath - relax*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your encouraging words. A little note goes a long way. I know my wonderful mother-in-law (and others)is always praying for my family and I. I know I am not alone either. Everyone has lots going on in their lives and some even have more kids than I. (K.B  - you are amazing) Seeing my mother be a single parent at this stage in her life is also very encouraging - she is a brave wonderful woman and has gone through more than I can imagine and has survived, faith intact. And I know that my friends are there for me - even though we are all busy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am looking forward to the weekend. Spending time with my family, maybe working on our yard, going to "cheech" (church) as my son calls it, and having a little birthday celebration with some friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to change a diaper,get two kids ready, pack a bag and leave in the next hour...can it be done?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-1495112233412148697?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/1495112233412148697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-morning-i-am-ignoring-dishes-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1495112233412148697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/1495112233412148697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-morning-i-am-ignoring-dishes-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2520916631823008692</id><published>2009-09-14T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T15:42:45.701-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jumble of thoughts</title><content type='html'>Feeling a little overwhelmed lately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Model thin already -  after all my baby is two months old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The perfect mother - no yelling, no getting frustrated when I get asked the same question over and over again. My three year old should be a genius. He should be reading and writing books by this point. Or at the very least be able to write his own name. My baby should be on a schedule and sleeping through the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A better wife - no nagging, no resentment. I should tell my husband how much I appreciate him going to work everyday to support us. I should cook his favourite foods and iron his shirts and know everything that is going on in his workplace.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A better Christian - we should be attending church every Sunday, (this is the plan but it often doesn't happen) teaching Sunday school and be involved in numerous groups.  I should be praising God, not questioning, and not angry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A healthy person - cooking nutritious meals, getting all the food groups in. No processed foods - just local, organic homemade food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Taking pictures of my kids daily and documenting everything that they do. Then scrapbooking it all. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Keeping my house clean. And not just regular clean but environmentally clean. No toxins or chemicals - everything I use should be safe and not cause cancer.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My house should be in perfect order - after all I am home all day long. Laundry should be put away and all areas should be dust and clutter free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not any of these things. And striving right now is driving me crazy and only making me more grumpy and less of a good person. I know I  will be a better mother and wife if I just relax a bit and not stress about the little things but it is hard when you are bombarded everyday by ads and tv shows telling you that you can have it all.I love my life - I really do. I know how blessed I am, but lately I just feel like I can't keep up. I do not know how people do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2520916631823008692?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2520916631823008692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/jumble-of-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2520916631823008692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2520916631823008692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/jumble-of-thoughts.html' title='Jumble of thoughts'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-3949469711220805068</id><published>2009-09-11T08:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T08:49:49.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need to be:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;fru⋅gal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  /ˈfrugəl/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [froo-guhl] Show IPA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;–adjective&lt;br /&gt;1.  economical in use or expenditure; prudently saving or sparing; not wasteful: a frugal manager.&lt;br /&gt;2.  entailing little expense; requiring few resources; meager; scanty: a frugal meal.&lt;br /&gt;Origin:&lt;br /&gt;1590–1600; &lt; L frūgālis economical, equiv. to frūg- (s. of frūx produce, fruit ) + -ālis -al 1&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-3949469711220805068?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/3949469711220805068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-need-to-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3949469711220805068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/3949469711220805068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-need-to-be.html' title='I need to be:'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-2332806839438406332</id><published>2009-09-09T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T09:30:41.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>today</title><content type='html'>6 months ago today my heart was broken. &lt;br /&gt;6 months ago my dad died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never forget (although I wish I could) the frantic phone call at 4 am from my mom. Driving to my parents house, calling my brother and telling him to get to the hospital. Begging God not to take him. Calling my best friend and leaving a message on her answering machine. Holding my little sister. My mom calling to tell me he was gone and to call their pastor. Crying on the kitchen floor. Having to tell my sister that dad was dead. My husband hugging me. My son looking at me. Driving with my parent's pastor and his wife to the hospital. Seeing my dad lying in that bed. Repeating dad over and over again. Thinking he looked like he should just wake up. Not wanting to ever leave him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was the last person to leave the room. It was so hard to walk away knowing that I wouldn't see him again. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; He had just joked around with me two days before in the hospital. He'd had a routine surgery and my husband and I went to visit. We laughed about a Jeep he had secretly bought and not told my mom about. I was pregnant and the baby was kicking like crazy. I got my dad some ice to eat. I promised I would make him some banana walnut muffins for when he got home. He hadn't eaten for days and was dreaming about an A&amp;W burger. Gave him some vaseline to put on his nose because it was so hot and dry in the room. Gave him a hug and a kiss and walked out. not having the slightest clue that this would be the last time I would get to do those things. &lt;br /&gt; My daughter never got to meet my dad. My son will only have faint memories of him, even though they were very close. My sister won't have her dad for the hardest part of her growing up years. My brother lost the biggest influence in his life. My mom lost her best friend. My husband lost one like a father to him, and his joking buddy (they had the same sense of humor). My nieces and nephew lost their Grandpa who actually got down on the floor to play. I lost my hero, the one who could do anything, knew everything and would do anything for me. &lt;br /&gt; Six months goes by very fast. But very slow. So much has happened but it feels like I just saw him yesterday and he should be calling me to tell me what else I should be doing with my house or to ask me a question or to listen to the latest antic my son had pulled. Most days I still don't believe it. Every morning I have to remind myself that he's gone. Every morning it's like a kick in the face when I realize I won't be seeing him again. Every morning I wish things were different. Some days are easier than others. Keeping busy is a good thing. Looking at my daughter's smiles and listening to my son singing remind me that life is good. But it is still hard.&lt;br /&gt;My heart is healing slowly but surely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-2332806839438406332?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/2332806839438406332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/today.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2332806839438406332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/2332806839438406332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/today.html' title='today'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-218822022145593486</id><published>2009-09-08T15:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T15:48:12.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A definition:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;grief&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  /grif/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [greef] Show IPA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;–noun&lt;br /&gt;1.  keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.&lt;br /&gt;2.  a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;—Idioms&lt;br /&gt;3.  come to grief, to suffer disappointment, misfortune, or other trouble; fail: Their marriage came to grief after only two years.&lt;br /&gt;4.  good grief, (used as an exclamation of dismay, surprise, or relief): Good grief, it's started to rain again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-218822022145593486?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/218822022145593486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/definition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/218822022145593486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/218822022145593486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/definition.html' title='A definition:'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193802459744413706.post-7009656477220844370</id><published>2009-09-08T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T14:02:04.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here  goes</title><content type='html'>Here's my new blog. It was time for a change. &lt;br /&gt;I should really be washing my dishes right now but because both of my kids are napping - I'm taking a bit of "me" time.&lt;br /&gt;I despise washing dishes. It gives me too much time to think. Right now I want to keep busy and not have time to think about all that has happened in my life the past 6 months.&lt;br /&gt;But they need to be done. Why? Because I do not have a dishwasher and because my family needs dishes to eat off of. And because I need to be a grown up and take care of my house. And I guess I need to think about the things I don't want to think about.&lt;br /&gt;So I guess Washing Dishes is a metaphor for my life. Cleaning up. Making fresh. Dealing with things I don't want to. And learning how to move on. Not forget. Not ignore. But to wash them up even though they are just going to get dirty again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want this blog to be a place where I can sift through my thoughts. Deal with my grief of losing my dad, my anger with God,  talk about marriage, parenthood, living frugally, eating and cooking nutritiously and living life these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby's awake. Guess those dishes will have to wait...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/193802459744413706-7009656477220844370?l=washingmydishes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/feeds/7009656477220844370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/here-goes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7009656477220844370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/193802459744413706/posts/default/7009656477220844370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingmydishes.blogspot.com/2009/09/here-goes.html' title='Here  goes'/><author><name>Dana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05024945557712428511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WOPTlC7NEg/SqbINoECQSI/AAAAAAAABRM/y-DQo1B1V04/S220/50%27s+dishes.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
