tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84159385771127741542024-03-04T22:28:51.690-08:00Bodies In The YardA 30 year old American Sign Language Interpreter on a mission to get healthy in every facet of life. You can laugh. You will cry. I'll be here all day. Come sit a spell.Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-46601366393491461342018-05-01T20:58:00.001-07:002018-05-02T04:48:47.663-07:00Tommy Boy<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;"> Atop the laundry list of moronic, hilarious, and dangerous misadventures I have flung myself (headfirst & hell no to half measures) into for all these past 30 years, this one will surely leave a memory. Shall we?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;"> Somehow, on a busy suburban Chicago road, all hell broke loose in my navy blue Honda. I felt my car, quickly, losing all power. I white-knuckled the steering wheel, wide-eyed with worry, at every blessed light my dashboard blinking in mocking melodic measures. Instantly, I could feel my stomach fall to the bottom of my butt. Didn't leave a stain though! I guided the car safely into a stranger’s driveway. Folks, that’s not even the peculiar part. My only thought was you must be out of gas, mo. I knew there was something I forgot to do. Never has this happened before in all my years of doing all the dumb things. And well, I might add. A first time for everything, right? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;"> After getting my few, dim wits about me, I summoned the courage to knock on the front door. Silently promised myself I wasn’t going to stutter or stammer. Good luck, Charlie Brown. After 3 nervous knuckle taps, Bill Murray’s doppelganger stood in front of me. A punt dog was anxiously pawing at my legs for affection & attention. Immediately, my eyes darted to the top of the bench piano that was covered, from stem to stern, with cards all saying,” Father.” Carefully arranged in between each picture, were professional pictures of dad & spawn. My butterflies headed South. The need for Depends and Peppermint oil, to soothe my bubble guts, was no more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;"> He greeted me with a warm smile. His kind eyes assured me my fate would not be spelled out on a 2hr special 20/20 episode. You know, the one that isn’t cut out for 60 minutes? They need every bit of 120 minutes to fully explain the unspeakable horrors that unfolded on that especially fateful Thursday evening. My mother would be heartbroken to hear of the brutal details that befell her gorgeous, brown-eyed, small town, City girl, from a little cotton town time forgot. Alas, such misery was not my fate. Not today, Satan! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;"> Before he could say, “Hello!” My gums were flapping at Usain Bolt speed. He caught the whole long-winded earful of how I’d never had this problem. I wasn’t a bum leaving a car in his driveway. The plan was to head to filling station on foot, about a mile up the road. Come back, fill her up. Anyone who knows me is probably laughing their whole butts off right now. Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;">This story was not only told like Irish-Mexican windtalker I am. It came complete with large, grandiose gestures. Me using both my hands. Some American Sign language to get my point across. May or may not have been some “Interpretive dance” peppered in for good measure. Clarity, not brevity. I’m sure he is certain I’m one of God’s special children. I are one. Jesus loves me. Being crazy is hard. Count me with the dreamers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;"> He nodded. I was assured a gas can could be scrounged up to save the day. If I would let him confer with the Mrs. He would rather drive me to the local filling station. His bumper sticker parroted his political alignments. Couldn’t care less. Didn’t even read the worthless stickers. A wheelchair and 4-legged walker in the back of his Malibu assured me I could make a clean getaway. Away we were to the Mobil down the road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">Naturally, he asked why I didn’t call my dad to come rescue me. I wish. Sometimes, the vacant left ring finger, I pray is destined for an ice rink and matching bands feels heavy & empty. I struggle with it, greatly. It gives me away. I squeaked out my dad is dead. My chest tightened. No gestures. No tears. He gone. The cold hard truth sucks. We said goodbye to my old man January the year before. It’s amazing how the memories still take my breath away. His eyes softened. Before you can say Kroger Fuel points, I was safely back in his driveway. My car now ready to see the open road safely back home. </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Nary a puncture wound.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> Look ma, I didn’t get chopped up into little pieces and sprinkled amongst the bushes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;"> We said goodbye. A solid handshake, 2 gallons of Unleaded, and a big sigh of relief. As I was pulling out of the driveway, a placard stopped me dead in my tracks. It read, “Tommy’s Garden 1994-2014” Gail Caldwell said, “I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures.” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;">I was drowning in my own river of tears for a litany of reasons. 15ish months ago, my Irish-Mexican family, wore blue, dad’s favorite color, as those nearest & dearest lined up on a Thursday to hold onto us as we let him go. The old familiar stories of dad had us all in fits of belly laughter & agonizing sobs. I couldn’t help but stare at the casket in bewilderment, from time to time. A stranger would greet me with a hug. After the hug came a story of how dad went out of his way for someone. As it were, the same thing happened at his dad’s viewing. Stories I pull joy and strength from when I hate everything. Days when I just want to lie beside him in the dirt. Cash em in. When I buckle under the weight of losing my protector in this world. His love for his fellow man is the music he gave me. He was a music man. I heart it every day. There is nothing louder than the song of my father. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;">I have no children of my own. There is no way for me to understand the depth of a love for a child. It’s beyond my mind to ever know the gravity of the loss for a love that was born of your own flesh and blood. After I stopped sobbing & snotting, I said two prayers. One for Tommy’s family. The other was for his dad. It was a prayer of Thanksgiving. It was a plea from an unspeakably tender place deep from the deepest recesses of my spirit. May my heart not be hardened by my losses, great or small. Banish any & all bitterness for what slipped right through my fingers. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 200%;">How wonderful for Tommy’s dad & the Michael McCormick’s of this old world. For the ones who help a friend move, or a slow-witted girl in need of kindness. We honor the dead by taking care of the living. I’ll lead by their example. When the news is hard to stomach, I’ll cling to the hope I have. Maybe someday when a stranger knocks on my door, I’ll pass it along. “The measure of a man is one who lends a hand. It’s what my father said.” – Vince Gill<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span id="en-NIV-24044" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="woj"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">35 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></span> </span><span id="en-NIV-24045" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="woj"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">36 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span id="en-NIV-24046" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="woj"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">37 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span id="en-NIV-24047" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="woj"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">38 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span id="en-NIV-24048" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="woj"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">39 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span id="en-NIV-24049" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="woj"><b><sup style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">40 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-37710136105171667372018-02-17T08:52:00.000-08:002018-02-17T08:52:32.964-08:00Wedgies and Weight LossHave you ever seen a person with a wedgie? Not your garden variety undies bunch, I'm talking about the kind that could be pulled out of the back of the poor sucker's throat. Yesterday, at my gym, for a stout hour, I watched a man run on the treadmill with the largest wedgie, ever. The kind that makes you check your own sweet cheeks. Phantom wedgie pangs are no joke, ma'am. I couldn't help but wonder why he could let something as intrusive as bunched boxers continue to fester.<br />
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On the way home, I surmised I needn't stare at stranger's posterior. The jury is still out. The second thought was, maybe the good man was trying not to trip, wipeout, faceplant, die, and simply remember how not to smear his face on the serpentine belt of a Nordic Trac. A lofty goal, well worth running towards. He did better than me, any day of the week. I don't run. Running is not something I do. I was built for comfort, not speed. When puberty hit, the boys in 6th grade did not call me "toes." I'm a cuddler. I love to snuggle. There will be no running. If someone wants to catch me, they will. There was one instance when I lived in Indianapolis, I actually ran for my own dear life. I outran a nutjob in shorty shorts, top knot, no bra, and a Goodwill sweatshirt. The rest of the dirty details, I'll spare you. Your retinas can remain intact. Suffice it to say, the Good Lord was on my side.<br />
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Perhaps the wedgie is symbolic of an underlying thought I've wrestled with for a good year. When the whole world crashes down around you, everything can't be saved, you have to learn to live the uncomfortable and intrusive facets of life. Since my parent's house fire, I've been "running" with a litany of "wedgies". Learning how to live again, when all I've wanted to do since the death of my father is lie down beside him in the dirt, has proven itself to be a formidable opponent. Just sprinkle some dirt on my head at old 6 Mile Cemetery. Let me see sweet Jesus. Let me go with my dad, please?<br />
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I believe we all have seasons of wedgie treadmill running. A time when we give it all we've got. tongue out, dogs barking, britches in a wad, dying for a drink, sweat pouring out, all of the gut-wrenching stuff. At times we are going for all we are worth. It means trying not to face plant in front of creation. The pain reminds us we have been in the darkness before. Even if it passes like a Kidney stone, it still shall pass. We are better for the lesson. More tender despite the ache of our heart.<br />
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Aside from the devastating loss of my father, my weight loss has been the most uncomfortable facet for me to tackle. I would only go the gym and wear an old t-shirt with all of my makeup done and not talk. Sidenote, I am not at the gym for friends. K? Thanks. I'm not here to socialize. I'll smile, I'll nod after my heart snaps back into Sinus rhythm. I don't care what protein powder you use. I won't even photobomb your selfies. Yesterday, I noticed a seismic shift in my own struggle. There I was on some machine to bust my muffin-top in shorts, rebar lined sports bra and a tank top. If the truth gets told, I may or may not have belted out a few bars of the Spice Girls in between reps. Say it loud, say it proud!<br />
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I can't tell you how much this past year has hurt. No words to articulate the sorrow that has befallen me. By the same hand, it's been a lesson I know by heart now, it all will work out for my good. I can not tell of my sorrow without telling about the all of the unexpected ways I have also found soul-anchoring joy. I pray for my brothers and sisters walking their own road. Trying to let go of broken dreams, empty promises, or the aftermath of loss. Struggle well. Give it to Jesus. Go to the gym. Storm heaven gates for the wisdom to know when to go tongue out, wedgie in. Ask for guidance when it's time to shake the dust. If you see me at the gym, feel free not to say hi. I'm cheering for you. I am on your side. Won't even mention your wedgie I would love for you to pick.<br />
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<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-17771781603542909232018-02-12T09:58:00.000-08:002018-02-17T06:55:25.114-08:00Radio Silence <div style="text-align: center;">
How are you, baby? I've missed <u>you.</u></div>
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It's been over 3 weeks of no Facebook post with a witty status about my interaction with the Target cashier. No photograph of whatever organic, grain free, no sugar, hippie food I've whipped up. Nary a peep about my most recent projects and potions. Where is the barrage of Horsecrappery that littered Facebook & Instagram? Bueller?...Bueller?... Bueller?</div>
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Here is the bloody, bloody truth, social media was too distracting for me. Last year, when my dad took his last breath, mine went with him. I've toiled something fierce with a lonesome ache. A feeling only understood in a way that's unfathomable to anyone not in the struggle. You are blindsided but what you can't know. Social media has been my safe, meticulously crafted way to interact with the world. A way to dip my toe into the proverbial pond without getting wet. A picture is worth a 1,000 words, but it never told the whole story. How foolish to believe it ever could. </div>
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The heavier my social media usage, the harder it was to have joy. Happiness is,"I am happy until my cherub fingers frantically scrabble around a disappointingly empty, greasy Mcdonald's French fry container." - Stephanie Marie. (Preach) Joy is a much more deeply rooted, intentional practice. I'm about 47 lbs down on a 100 lb weight loss goal. It's been an amazing journey with a rebar-supported sports bra & sweet sweat. A journey fraught with set backs, sickness, and broken bones, I'm a little less muffin top. When I would root & rummage through social media hashtags about weight loss, I would beat myself because I wasn't where I wanted to be. A little old picture of someone's sliver of a story, would send me on a self-pity party. I don't care what Fergie said, big girls do cry. </div>
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Another reason I walked away was because my FB & Insta were always on the back of my mind. If this interaction only makes 25 people laugh, why can't it make 50 people laugh? What is wrong with me? The real question is, WHO CARES? Me! but, WHY? Facebook and Instagram had me living and dying with each post. I've always wanted to be a writer. Means get my duff off of FB & start typin! It's a year of culling what doesn't serve me. It's a year of cultivating what does. My hashtagged, as all get out, Insta posts, don't have a lasting impact on people. Why spend irreplaceable moments arranging my latest project for strangers to tell me I am creative and talented? Filters are not our friends. They keep us lonely. The ugly truth is rather beautiful. Even when it breaks your heart. And your can't see past your own nose.</div>
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My connections haven't changed since my ether hiatus. If anything, I remember why I love the ones I love. Social interactions aren't relegated to likes or comments. I cook for my shrinking muffin top. The nourishment comes to my soul and body when I spend time in my kitchen. That is enough for me. I need to walk away from self aggrandizing behaviors and practices. Hope for me yet. Much in store. <b>Stay tuned! </b></div>
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<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-74482083698204227732017-11-18T02:01:00.000-08:002017-11-18T09:23:21.655-08:00Neither Merry not Bright <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Thanksgiving is in a few days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Gross.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Couple few years ago, Aaron, my older brother, adored by me
since day 1, liberally slathered his turkey and taters in caramel sauce instead
of gravy. Now, to understand the hilarity of the situation, Copernicus didn’t
take one bite, surmise something was amiss, and assess. No sir, McCormick’s don’t
do half measures. He devoured the sweet sauced food without commotion or
complaint. Every bite gone. Nary a
morsel or a sweet scrap left. After the
family had polished off the stuffing and bird, we go for the good stuffs. Aaron
inquired why everything tasted cloyingly so sweet. Bless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Aaron is one of the
best people I’ll ever know. No contest. A cherished Thanksgiving memory that
will surface in a few days. My family will need this happy memory to carry us
through the first holiday season without our dad. If we all don’t drown in our river of tears
first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Last year, at this time, between mom and dad’s house fire,
my move from Chicago to the camper at the KOA, back to Chicago (wish I was making
this up) dad’s job loss, heart attack, impending leg amputation, and rapidly
declining health, “The Holidays” sucked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Putting it mildly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Our faith is the only way we survive the dark days. Walk by
faith not by sight. What we’ve seen has been horrifyingly heartrending. We knew
dad’s time was drawing near. An unspoken misery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There is a time to be
born. There is a time to die. Ashes to ashes. The circle of life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We carried on secure in the knowledge, when we die, we know
where the others are going. Someday, the circle won’t remain unbroken. If you
don’t know where you will be going when you die, better get right with the
Lord. There will be hell to pay. That’s it. It’s all the hope we have. It’s all
you need.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Now more than ever, I understand why people dread this time
of year. The lights are blinding. The songs & sleigh bells sting. Pictures of togetherness make me more lonesome.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I might jack slap the
next punk who blasts Michael Buble’s Jingle Bells, especially if it’s before
Thanksgiving. I’d like to ring his bell. I’ve cried every day for the past 6
weeks. You’d think about some point, you would run out of tears. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mariah Carey got it right,"But then I miss you, most at Christmas time." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpkN_7ZbYXH3u5rmD3IQ8V2PztdGKxp_aj1uQJH6RdZvBczCHXZdiS4fdqrhmRNM28lc0YjGpwvSc-aV2_6f7VXAZ0UZHnM-YJ5fpn07K43ky7c_kQ35qb6q2GeX2nSL32AYpR6jtUW_L9/s1600/images.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpkN_7ZbYXH3u5rmD3IQ8V2PztdGKxp_aj1uQJH6RdZvBczCHXZdiS4fdqrhmRNM28lc0YjGpwvSc-aV2_6f7VXAZ0UZHnM-YJ5fpn07K43ky7c_kQ35qb6q2GeX2nSL32AYpR6jtUW_L9/s400/images.png" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Amen. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It’s a time to draw near. A time to pull in close. How do
you do that when what you want to draw near to is gone? The eternal question. My
heart aches for my loved ones wanting to draw near, but what they want to draw
near to slipped through the cracks. For whatever reason. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Loss is hell. Death, divorce, wayward children, you name it. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">An empty place at table.
An even bigger one in my heart. There is still much to be thankful for.
Prayers still reach God’s ears if you have tears in your eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I’m going to buy a real tree this year. I’m
going to sit my family. We will watch the kids run around. There will be
laughter. There will be tears. There will be a void. Dad is always in our
hearts. His humor and faith will sustain us, when it’s not merry or bright. </span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The
sweet babe that came to save us all means more to me now than ever. Thankful
for that home birthed cherub all those years ago. </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-48143156143787211292017-10-12T12:37:00.000-07:002017-10-12T12:39:03.030-07:00It's Like A Dagger Through the Heart<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background-color: black;">I’m bad at blogging. I think about
it. I quite like my little (War & Peace length) FB update statues. You is welcome.
The central theme of these last 9 months has revolved around my dad, namely,
his earthly departure. The expanse of my emotional depth goes from dolor to
rage & every other emotion under the sun. A reoccurring notion has been I’d
like to put my 2 cents in the bucket held out for the Great Unwashed. While it’s
not sexy or fun, it’s imperative. Let’s talk about grief. Ladies choice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"> Told
you. Are you uncomfortable yet? Do you regret clicking on this link? Are you
muttering, “Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie!” under your breath? Good, now I
have your attention. It’s perfectly fine for you to recoil at this taboo topic.
Perhaps your think flowers and funerals. Or weird memories of your great aunt Mary lying
in a casket with a downturn smile because of an overzealous mortician. Still
gives me the shakes. You had your warning. I gave you a chance to opt out. I’m
a sold-out believer who knows discomfort is paramount in learning. Wise
words that still bring a smile to my face, from a youth pastor many moons ago, “Start
living or start dying.” – James Matchette <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"> I spent
the last 5 nights of my father’s life sleeping in the 3<sup>rd</sup> floor
waiting room at Lutheran Hospital. These were my creature comforts. Hospital
blankets with a scarf. A generous gift from a previous nanny family. Seemingly innocuous
items to sustain me while the light was draining out of my father’s eyes just yards
away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGujNPKecoj6BQzTB7AOlulvkmCCbjgrUqEhlTljwe8SAX5y0PB3Gx7tkXQn8uq16I8jZK-ddOM35aVaL2RV429O40dAC8EaAFCLFylMIrMEjMyuzxoQWZSNMATe08cxaQMd2tuA8dBtyj/s1600/22365262_10208665954120280_2612204875296390491_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGujNPKecoj6BQzTB7AOlulvkmCCbjgrUqEhlTljwe8SAX5y0PB3Gx7tkXQn8uq16I8jZK-ddOM35aVaL2RV429O40dAC8EaAFCLFylMIrMEjMyuzxoQWZSNMATe08cxaQMd2tuA8dBtyj/s400/22365262_10208665954120280_2612204875296390491_n.jpg" width="400" /></a> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background-color: black;">It’s the little things that still take
the air out of my lungs. It’s like a dagger through the heart. The question remains,
how do we deal with grief? I don’t have an answer. But how we deal with it now
is sorely lacking. I fully intend for Grief to be my topic of study for Grad
school. What I offer instead is, a humble suggestion. I have been earlobe deep
in research from renowned experts on shame, grief, loneliness, and isolation. The
4 Groomsman of the Grief Apocalypse. A humble suggestion purposing we do a
little less talking and a lot more listening to those in the throes of their
loss. Ranging from death, divorce, or amputation. Loss is loss. Sucks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background-color: black;">In my own walk down this long road,
there is an overarching mantra of perceived ungratefulness. When I disclose I
miss my father, typically it is retorted with,” Well, you have many nieces,
nephews, siblings, and a mother, most people don’t have.” “Really?! Say what?!
Get clear out of town. Still don’t have my dad. K bye.” Rude. Ticks me right
off. The loss of my father does not mean I am not grateful for what I still have.
It means, the loss of my father shattered my whole heart into a million-teensy
weensy small bits. GO AWAY, jerk. Thankfully, my parents taught me to not say
every little thing I think. Eh, they did the best they could with what they had.
Bless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background-color: black;">“The loss of one does not replace
the company of many.”- Unknown. Give whomever came up with that wisdom a big,
fat, wet one from me. I’m 30 &
single. Sigh. The most important male figure in my life, now resides at Six
Mile Cemetery with an upturned face. Be
gentle, please? Don’t tell me it’s ok. He isn’t suffering, or, wait for it, he
wouldn’t want me to be sad. Let me be. Hug me. Pray for me. Tell me something
funny he did. If you got nothing, a
genuine smile does wonders for the soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background-color: black;">Grief takes on many forms throughout
life. The loss of my father was compounded by my parent’s house fire. Most
things from my childhood didn’t survive, again the infuriating mantra was, “Be
thankful your parents made it out alive. The rest is just stuff.” False. I am
all for less crap & stuff, but childhood photos are not stuff. My old teddy
bear was not just a thing. It’s a thing with value to me. Again, the loss was
totally mitigated. It’s a special kind of hell to sit in the charred remains of
your loved one’s house inventorying burnt remnants of a life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: black;"> The lack
of knowledge about how to converse with the hurting is sorely lacking in
society. I want to study it, write about it, and offer what insight I’ve had.
It’s been a cool drink of water on a hot day to talk with others who say, “Me,
too!” Others have also expressed the same sentiments in being the proverbial
turd in the punch bowl. I want to expand the narrative. Include those in the
fold who are divorced, widowed, or parent-less. The better we understand grief,
the better we can sit who those eyeball deep in it. Baby steps. Pain will not
be ignored. In my attempts to understand my own, I pray someday it will help
others with theirs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1A27dAoK_xCtIf8b5xhluQxIKsjJQDa1KnAcG11798jvSCGWg04s-8ju-Bv4Z-moMVYTCJsSjw6fJUjJd1WbDAuRyQR8eUhsZKeLtNfYYjM5E4vy130rJ3TRc6uPx-_fXzfMPDuXr7cU/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1A27dAoK_xCtIf8b5xhluQxIKsjJQDa1KnAcG11798jvSCGWg04s-8ju-Bv4Z-moMVYTCJsSjw6fJUjJd1WbDAuRyQR8eUhsZKeLtNfYYjM5E4vy130rJ3TRc6uPx-_fXzfMPDuXr7cU/s400/images.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: black;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-7734861194542965632016-12-24T08:11:00.001-08:002016-12-24T08:12:40.181-08:00Keep your Buts, and Well, Ya Knows, && You Must Not Forget About So & So. <div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> I've noticed a troubling overarching, underlying, redundancy is frowned upon in Writing, theme sneakily creeping into our everyday dialect. This belittling trend has a startling impact on our fellow brothers and sisters. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We've arrived at a place, in this society, where everything is mitigated and downplayed. I'll explain in a hot second. Perhaps it's the constant buzz of a constant stream of news on our smartphones, tablets, computers, WiFI-enabled cars, wrist watches that tell us when to move, and other chord chasing gadgets. Things & stuffs that suck up our attention spam, time, and, data. Perhaps it's being globally connected to the free world in the waiting room of your local Jiffy lube, via a handheld device with the forbidden fruit that is a global brands logo? I'm not sure how. I don't know when. I don't know why, but it's go to stop.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Recently, a good friend's parent died. Said friend and I sat at dinner discussing the ends & outs of life over cheeseburgers and spinach dip. The general rigmarole of work, love, life, topics were discussed. The conversation turned to the heavier side of things. It was brought that my sweet friend has heard, from numerous sources, "Sorry, you lost parent X. You should be thankful you still have so. so, and so. My neighbor lost both parents at the same time. You can't even imagine. Be thankful you still have so, so, and so. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Really? You are talking to someone who just lost said mama. You have the nerve to play the comparison game? Really? In what world is that helpful? Why don't we say, "That sucks. Tell me your mom's favorite thing to do on a lazy Saturday morning? Or was her favorite holiday? Or how about a hug? Or a warm smile? Perhaps, an interpretive dance It's akin to you telling me your house burnt down to the crumbs & dirt. I respond with.' At least you still have the garage!" My aunt's house, garage, barn, and lean to all went up in smoke!" NO NO NO NO NO NO NO </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Does that help you pick up, inventory, appraise, and reorder all of your earthly possessions, toothbrush and clean underwear all back right square again? NO! Believe me, a fire is no joke. Or stroll down the beach with a wine slushie and a caramel tan. Perhaps all of this access to news reminds us to be thankful. I agree whole heartily. Also, I hold fast to to the belief you can't speak to what you don't know. I've never lost a parent. The thought alone just drops my heart out of my butt. I know it's a road we will all walk. And even that floods my eyes. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><u>This is all of these Buts, and Well, Ya Know && You Must Not Forget About So & So</u>.</b> No on needs your opinion, Just your love. It's devastating in the middle of suffering to hear someone ignore your strife because they have a neighbor that lost parents instead of just one. We are to be thankful in all things, not for them. World of difference. I'm just as guilty as everyone else. Not by any stretch of the imagination am I waving my Dan Marino mitts in anyone's face. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">These cataclysmic events that happen in our lives might not seem like the world came crashing down, because we can google someone else's suffering in a nano second. I'm not saying tragedy doesn't befall us all. In this life we are promised heartache and strife until the close the lid. I'm no so sure it won't carry on for 3 days after the worms have creept in, but here is to hoping. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This past Fall, I stood over the casket of the principal's daughter of my school's baby girl. Katie was 9. She had brown hair and loved theater. It takes your breath away to even say it. Undoubtedly, he will know deep, unspeakable sorrow all of his days. He will never be whole until he leaves this world to be reunited with his love in the next life. We were in line to greet the family at the viewing, and I overheard, "My feet hurt. I have piles of laundry in the dining room that is just sitting there. Ah, yes, like your dirty piles of Levis are such a troubling weight on your mind. Let's take care of each other? Can we? It took all I had not to punch the person in the face who popped off about the funeral line being so long. Heaven florid the worst day of someone's life interfere with your dirty underwear. When did taking care of our brothers and sisters become so hard? When did we forget how to just shut up and listen. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Let's all agree, the next time we hear of someone's trouble. We will listen. We will care. If our big Buts, Well, Ya Knows, && You Must Not Forget About So & So, even pass through our tongue lets just put it right back where it belongs. Shut your mouth. Open your heart. </span></div>
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Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-11200489304685641672016-02-29T11:37:00.000-08:002016-02-29T11:37:25.182-08:00Chin hairs & Mustache waxLong time no see old friends. I've been busy. Not so much busy, as I have been lazy. There I said it. Well, I'm back. Happy to join you. Writing is powerful. Words are profound. Mustache wax is painful. Shall we?<br />
<br />
I was diagnosed with PCOS at 18. Long, gross story short, I have problems with my womanly innards and hormones. I.e. Thinning hair, sprouting chin whiskers/ upper lip fuzz. Why get a cat that has whiskers when you can grow your own and save on Tidy cat? I rest my case. Also, midsection weight gain. Basically a spare tire of flub you could smuggle Mexicans in. Hey, Grandpa Joe! (Yes, these were the terms Web MD uses. I was shocked, too. How rude!- Stephanie Tanner. Long live the 90's)<br />
Bla bla, medical words & heartache. I was put on meds to combat said ailment. FAIL.<br />
<br />
Over the course of 6 months, things started to go awry. I was a bald walking pair of boobs. I lost about 60ish lbs. woohoo! The walking pair of boobs comes into play because that what I was. As much as that is annoying at times, you got to work with what your mama gave you. Suddenly, my spare tire went from Tractor tire to tricycle tire. Hay!<br />
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The problem was along with the weight also went my hair. big clumps or handfuls just it got thinner and thinner. Deb, who is a second mom to me, was cutting the remnants of what was my hair. She is loving and tender. We both knew the conversation that was bound to happen. I had a pit so deep in my stomach, I was sure it was big enough for me & all 7 of my hairs to crawl into and hide in forever. Solid plan.<br />
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It is devastingly painful to be half bald in your early 20's. A special kind oh hell fo sho. I'm as sarcastic and mouthy as the next Mccormick. I have broad shoulders & mitts like Dan Marino. But if someone was so much as even stare at the top of my head too long or ask me about what was wrong with my hair, I could not stop the inevitable title wave of tears . And it didn't matter that you were close to me or if it was a stranger I was just so uncomfortable and it was so hard I would just instantly cry . And even talking about it now I can still feel some of that old despair creep back in.<br />
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I do believe authenticity is what we all desperately crave in a world that is so photoshopped & staged. They call it the ugly truth for a reason. This is about as authentic as it gets. I'm also aware that men struggle with hair loss . I am by no means diminishing their struggle. As a woman I thought there was something particularly awful about this affliction. Meaning no one give me any crap about being insensitive or ignoring the plight of a balding man. Focus. <br />
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I went off the meds, on rogaine and all of that stuff. Read: craptastic results. Ida had more fun lighting the money on actual fire. All Rogaine ever did was drain my bank account & nothing to cross the great divide that was the chasm of my missing nothing to cross the great divide that was the chasm of my missing hair. I gained the weight back but not my hair.<br />
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Fast forward 10 long years, and my hair is coming back. My kitchen is lab of organic experiments, teas, tinctures, balms, and bottles. After a lot of research and book digging, I created my own little hair serum. At seven weeks into my experiment, I realize my results were astonishing. I didn't tell anyone I was doing this . I snapped a shot of my sparse part , and let the mixture work it's magic.<br />
My little bottle of sprouts has proven to be small yet mighty.<br />
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I'm going to name the stuff Sprouts. I plan on selling it. Seeing how it goes, and then on from there.<br />
What I want more than anything, is to help be able to hermetically seal shut that pit in anyone else's stomach that is carved out by what they have lost. Yes it's just hair. But I'll come take away half of it, and we will see how big the hole is in your heart.<br />
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The proof is in the tasting. Tastes pretty sweet. I'll post another progress picture in a month. Baby steps. From the absolute bottom of my heart, thank all of you for the love, support, and faith. There are no words to express my gratitude. 'Our deepest hurt will bring about our most powerful stories' -Amen<br />
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<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-5027150331004503942014-09-04T15:57:00.001-07:002014-09-04T15:57:40.443-07:00Dire StraitsThe original definition of courage meant to tell your whole story with your whole heart. Well, this is my story.<br />
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Panel is a big, huge, obnoxious, (very important & rightly so,) test that everyone takes at Columbia. I didn't pass this past May. I had too much on my mind and not enough skill to pass. I failed. (Truth is, I spent 3 days locked in my apartment crying & watching all 8 seasons of Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe, straight through) My proclivity for a middle aged, dark hair blue eyed host not withstanding, it's a fantastic show! Between you, me, and the fencepost, If I'm going to be sad, might as well fix my eyes on something visually appealing. ( Hello! Mama didn't raise no fool ;) Hi, mom! <3 Love you! <br />
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The ramifications of not passing this Panel are rather serious. It meant I was forced to take a summer class, and possibly be held back a semester. (totally unacceptable! I got things to do. Those things would include moving on with my life, && graduating before I'm old enough to draw Social Security. Lofty ambitions).<br />
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My original summer plans of working, soap making, & chasing around little yahoos, wouldn't go as planned. I needed help. Lots of it. * screwed, at this point, I am so screwed.* That meant I had to ask for help. I had to make myself vulnerable *gulp* . It meant I would have to find my courage. I would have to ask for help because I failed. I would have to tell the story of not passing an important test. Shoot me now. I didn't want to. It was embarrassing, and awful. It meant I needed help, and was only going to get that help, If I asked. Shoot me now!<br />
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I don't like to ask for help. I speak a few languages, can handle anything in the kitchen & consider myself a whiz with old people & babies. (I am smarter than I look. Just don't ask me how many times<br />
I have fallen down the stairs, or burnt the stuffing out of myself on the crock pot, k?! ) *cough<br />
cough* Me, stubborn? What's that you say? pride cometh before the fall? BOOM. Timber. Crash. I will take my humble pie al mode, please.<br />
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The news of my failure couldn't have arrived at a worse time in my life.<u> <b>The past year had been one that broke my heart in a way I never thought it would heal. </b></u>If I told you I had been lonely, miserable, and down right a nightmare to be around, it would be the understatement of the decade. I had experienced indescribable grief, forced goodbyes, and now, glaring failure. Anything else, really? Oh, yes, the roommate from Hell. Sad. I loved my former roommate. She is a peach. Very much. <strike>Broke my heart when I had to say goodbye</strike>.<br />
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I swallowed my pride, and much to my surprise, something amazing happened. The people asked for for help, did just that. There was no judgment. It is an absolutely amazing thing to ask for help and<br />
get just that. Initially, even talking about my seemingly impending doom made my brown eyes drip.<br />
My tears were met with warm hugs, caring eyes, and a willingness to see me pass Panel, no matter<br />
how daunting said task was. I was blown away. I shouldn't have been surprised though. I am blessed.<br />
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Summer would prove to be an adventure in new experiences & even a new language. (Braille! I love it!) One of the people I met at the DeafBlind retreat presented a lecture about asking for help. I spent a week volunteering at this retreat. It was stated that it is easy to ask for help when it is obvious you need others. I.E. a person breaks a leg, or has a house fire. Of course, you would need the aid of others if your house was no longer intact. But it takes real strength to ask for help when others see you warts & all. (Your pride prove its destructive capabilities in every aspect of your life until you learn to suck it up, Buttercup!) I learned this lesson the hard way this summer. However, it is one that will stick with me for the rest of my life.<br />
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<b><u>You have to learn to ask for help when it is hard and painful. You must be willing to share with others things that you would rather keep to yourself. You must accept the fact we are not </u></b><br />
<b><u>meant to do this on our own. </u></b><br />
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I really appreciated everyone that helped me out this pit. I spent the summer interpreitng all over everywhere this summer. I just worked my tail off and it all paid off. I have an amazing mentor that was wiling to work with me. I just cannot ask for me. The plan is someday, to mentor someone who will find them-self in the same position I was in. In order to ever give love in any capacity, you must be able to receive it. I am beyond bless to have such a wonderful group of people in my life. I love you all. I learned so much. My heart is so full. <br />
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The good news is, I passed my test. I am on the right path. I am so happy I was able to work through it this summer. In this life you will have heartache and strife, but you must always move forward. You must ask for what you need. You must be willing to ask for what you need. Big things coming my way! <br />
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<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-47075323088200396682014-04-29T10:52:00.000-07:002014-04-29T10:52:27.108-07:00The 3rd Party Perspective Here is it, my opinion. You didn't ask me and I don't care! Here is it. You is welcome!<br />
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V.A.C.C.I.N.E.S<br />
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Yep. That 7 letter word (-) the plural(s). It's incited a riot between everybody. I stay out, well, because, ya know, I like my head attached. I am now speaking out because I have a blog. (whoopiedoo!) Having 0, that's right, count em' on no hands, 0 kids myself I have an opinion. (I can hear and see all of you rolling your eyes and sighing VERY loudly, geeze a whiz, just have a little patience, would ya?) I listen to your screaming, hollerin, carryin' on kid at Target every time I go in the store, afford me the same courtesy?. Thanks in Advance :) Mighty Kind.<br />
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Woman, to the point! Oh, hi!<br />
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I have spent my entire life around kids, seriously, it's a little bit much. My mom babysat kids and then I started babysitting myself. I have years and I mean years of experience with children. DISCLAIMER. I by no means, of any stretch of any imagination am saying that I know what it's like to have a kid. Nope. Didn't say it. Shh, shut it!… Keep reading.<br />
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I have been a babysitter/nanny/crumb gobbler/ankle biter/ taker-carer-of-em for all of my life. I love em' all. I swear. Even on the days I swear my tubes tie themselves bc the kids make me crazy. They all have a special place deep inside my heart. Despite the barf in hair or blowout on my dress. You can't take the good without the bad, smelly, and gassy. I digress.<br />
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What I have been privy to a rare glimpse into many different parenting styles and methods. The one I am paying special attention to VACCINES. Why? I know how these kids are before they have these shots and I see how they are after. It scares me. It sickens me. It makes me worry for what their lives will be like in the future.<br />
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I have taken car of many babies that after their SUGGESTED vaccines, the change in their countenance is alarming. I don't just mean a fussy baby for a day. My stomach always does a cartwheel or 7 when a family tells me the little just had the required shots. I don't what what the babies reaction will be, but it aint pretty.<br />
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This is not an informative post to explain every side effect or reaction. It's meant to just ask you to do your homework on whatever you are putting into your child's body. I cannot tell you how many mothers/fathers I hear saying I wish I would have known..my doctor never told me…why don't people warn you..I could go on for days with this one…It breaks my heart.<br />
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<u><b>MORE PEOPLE SPEND MORE TIME RESEARCHING A NEW SET OF SPEAKERS, ELECTRONIC TOOTHBRUSH, OR VACATION DESTINATION, THAN WHAT GOES INTO THEIR CHILD'S BODIES, UNTIL IT'S TOO LATE. </b> </u><br />
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It's important to remember when I say a parent needs to do his or her homework on vaccines, I do not mean go to your doctor's office. I mean do your homework, read books, watch a documentary or 6. Listen to a parent speak, let their message be understood. When you do your research, go in with an open mind. If you approach this topic with an open mind, you might be surprised as to what you find. Don't think or say what kind of idiot. Take his or her opinion in, take it to heart.<br />
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<b><u>THIS IS ALSO PARAMOUNT, DO NOT, DO NOT EVER, EVER CALL PEOPLE NAMES, OR BASH AND BELITTLE. EVER. IF SOMEONE STARTS IT, WALK AWAY, THE PROBLEM IS WITH HIM OR HER NOT YOU. DO NOT THROW GAS A FIRE. BE KIND. BE OPEN, BE GENTLE, ALWAYS, NO MATTER YOUR STANCE.</u> </b><br />
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I have worked with kids who are and who are not vaccinated and the difference is astounding. The ones that aren't do not have the same health, mental, and emotional problems that I see occurring in the ones that are. I am not saying that every problem in the world is tied to a vaccine, not at all, but I do see their damage. It's not a medical perspective, my opinion is what I have seen first hand. No one can tell me what I have seen with my own eyes. No one, ever.<br />
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If anything, this should post should remind you that your children are precious, they are the hopes and dreams of the ones that went before us. They will be all that remains once we are gone. That's not an if we are gone, that is when we are, all will perish from the Earth. They are to be loved, snuggled, rocked to sleep, and taken care of. The times they are a changin', baby. Get with the times. Your job as a parent now to do the dishes, wash the clothes, and do your homework. Your choice, your kid, but it would be shame to have to say I wish I would have known…<br />
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I encourage all of you to watch this. I challenge everyone that reads this to read, watch, or find 3 articles, books, or documentaries about vaccines, that are different that the current viewpoint you hold. Understand why people believe and feel like they do. It may change your mind, save a life, or for the first time, you will understand the other side believes what he or she does.<br />
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This is a humble persectiptive from the nanny. I did not go into great detail because I am not putting out my own thoughts and ideas. I encourage you to formulate your own, based on your research. Remember cheater's never prosper ;) It don'ts mean anything unless you have made a decision because of what you believe. I am simply expressing my concern over what I have seen come to pass. </div>
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<b><br /></b>Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-46159191718018802662013-11-27T01:34:00.000-08:002013-11-27T01:38:56.101-08:00 That sucks! Want A Sammich?!<span style="font-size: large;">The very sound of "Bless Your Heart" makes me want to yak. What is really being said is, "poor sucker, awe, life is rough when you are slow..." It's crap! Downright BS. It fits right up there with "that's life" really? That is what passes for encouragement these days. PTI-A-FREAKIN-FUL. So now we encourage our brothas and sistas with bumper- sticker platitudes and trite sayings from Chicken Soup for the Soul? Ouch.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">*Side note* This blog could possibly be from the recent turn of events, those events being going home, the Holidays, and Finals in 2 weeks* I know, just breathe., step away from the 5 hour energy. So if this is blog has a bit more sass or zing to it, I make no apologies , like I ever do, but it is about time it was said! * Continue reading at your own free will :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is easy to forget our own thoughts and actions once we are removed from a situation. i.e. the loss of a friend, raising children, ( I got NOTHING on this one. I also refuse to open that can of worms.I am just trying to get you there, OK?) going through school, moving across state lines....yada yada yada . You get it. You is smart, You is kind, You is important :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My (grass-fed) beef is that once we are out of a situation we become experts platitude givers . We offer little to no empathy or support to others who are walking the same road. I will put myself out there on this one. Most of you know over the last few years I have been gypsy livin! It has been some good times. Moved out and away, grew up ( work in progress, I know) Lived alone and loved it Well, 95% of the time. This ain't an SAT test, numbers are not scored here! I pride (Pride- that will come back around to bite your in the rear) myself on knowing how to make a budget, pack up an apartment, and start over. It's been a blast meeting new people, learning about different places, and really making my own life. There are stories that are special to me from each place I lived. Every place has a place in my heart and my life. but......</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Each one also has its own struggles, defeats, and losses at every new place. I have forgotten how hard it is to pull up roots and start totally over. The move from home was the hardest. It by far was the best experience I have ever hard, but also the most challenging on many levels.My mind, at times, glosses over all of the hard parts and focuses on the good. So when I hear someone wants to move away I am the first to make a list of what is needed for packing up an apartment. ( Toss your junk before you move! There is always a Bed, Bath, & Beyond & a 20% off coupon close at hand:)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A friend of mine recently got into an excellent law school in DC. I said GO. Move across the country you can always move home, me you have seen! It is great advice, so proud of you , Jasmine <3. However, there is also more to it than just Lowes boxes and packing tape. It means pulling up roots, exposing yourself, and being VULNERABLE.. ( That means being ok with saying, HALP!) What better time to say, "Halp"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, since I am nice and settled in CHICAGO ( I made it, baby!) , it is easy for me to dole out advice about moving, However, what I need to say is, Ah, moving. there is a reason it rates very high on the stress scale. Instead of just saying that blows.and walk away. Why not offer to help pack up, grab a box, or just say we should go spend a night walking around Bed , Bath, and Beyond. I have coupons. Bury me with em," ok?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am reminded of how many people had patience with me when I first started out on my ASL journey. ILY BETH!!!!!!!!!!! <3 I now work in the ASL lab at school so now I deal with ASL one students. They are so cute! Scared crapless! It is something else to walk in there with everyone who can sign like it aint no thing and ask you what you need help with. If you can get your knees to stop shakin' long enough, and your hands to work, and your brain to remember how to spell your own name, you are in the red, baby! It is a good day. But it aint, your hands are clammy, you know the sign for book and the polite girl behind the desk signs BOOK , but you get that deer in the headlight look. Fifteen minutes later communication has happened. Now, I look back on those days fondly! Ah, good times, right? Well, kinda.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is the job of the older ones to help guide the younger ones. It is really a charge to the ones who have walked before to show them how you survived Panel 1 & Panel 2 ! OMG. That means we should speak edifying words to each other like...." I remember those days, you need to go to tutoring every week to improve," or other sound advice.Of course there is a time to lead the pack, and let them figure it out on their own. But that's another day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So the charge is that those of us who have survived, perhaps a little beaten up, but still here, should serve as a guide to the ones who are following in our foot steps. Also, are our footsteps what they should follow? It isn't that have to be perfect, but did you do the best you could?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think of the holiday season and how many people will be without a loved one at the table. I sobbed at<i> I Miss You Most At Christmas Time</i> by Mariah Carey the other day. Absolutely reduced to sobs and snot. It hurts. The holidays will be <u><i>rough </i></u>this year. So say a prayer for those families this year that will have one less at their table. An empty place an the table means an emptier place in the hearts of the ones that loved the one that has gone on. Hurts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> People say life is but a vapor. I get it. <b>SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!.</b> When a person is closer to 50 it is easier to say that so carelessly, sometimes, even down right cold. At 26, my friends are my family up in Chi. School and work is my life right now. So it isn't just oh whatever, it doesn't matter. It does to me. It is all about perspective. So before judgement is passed, stop, think, then speak. Remember being 26 and sometimes feeling like the world is crashing down? Sometimes it does feel that way. Sometimes it does all go up in smoke. This life turns on a dime. So saying life is short at 50 holds a different meaning than at 26. I have a longer journey. 26 > 50, 'member?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The whole point is to remember what it was like when you walked that same road. It isn't the friend who remembers those days that means anything to you . It is the one that sees you in the mire and climbs down in with you. Not the one who sees you in the hole and says, "that's life, I would come down there, but I can't get dirty. Life is rough, wanna sammich ?" There is a time for sammiches and to pull your own self up. However, sometimes we just need someone who gets it. Who knows that grief is a process and sometimes it does SUCK.Things aren't always going to be ok. That in itself is ok, too. Jesus spent 40 days in the desert. These things take time. Dance when it's time to dance, and cry when your heart is heavy. Don't dismiss someone because you have survived said experience. Consider it a pleasure that he or she is comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you. Remember a time in your own life when if one more person said "deal, that's life" you were going to cry. The bible says love is what separates the world from the Christians. Love is a verb. Love sits in the muck and mire. Platitudes give you a handout, a sammich. Love gives you a hand up, a hand to hold. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So are you climbing down in the trenches? Or are you holdin' a sammich?</span>Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-71927291439095646192013-11-08T21:51:00.000-08:002013-11-08T21:51:36.376-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Beer cans && Fishin' Lures was a board on my (now defunct) Pinterest account. I named it that because I had hundreds of pins of nothing but shiny pretty objects that caught my attention. <strike style="font-style: italic;">Because who am I kidding, I am the poster child for all things shiny and wonderful ;) I digress....</strike> My favorite board was the one titled " Miss Stephanie Marie" It had all these little pins about things I enjoyed, shiny objects, make up, Chicago, babies, the Titanic, all things Deaf culture and ASL....OH! I almost forgot my real all-time fav-or-ite board...the one with all the sappy, boo-hoo-hoo quotes and song lyrics. Oh mercy. *sniff *sniif*<strike> I would cry but that means my make-up would run. If anyone that knows how much shellac I cake on, these black eyes would put Alice Cooper to shame, honestly</strike>.(PS. I do not apologize at all for it either, nope, no way, not in this lifetime, sister. It is part of my effect. Well, not this semester <i>per say</i>, been a little more Au natural, bc it's been nothin short of the 9th circle of hell round here, as of late...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I deleted the account because I found myself wasting time on things that I do not have a need, use, or want for. I have enough stuff, crap, and things. <b>The more I was on Pinterest, the more I found myself wanting more meaningless stuff, useless crap, and worthless things. I want and need to spend my life investing in people. Building loving, lasting,eternal relationships should be my focus.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now please, pretty pretty please, just go with me on this. Stop rolling your eyes, well, go ahead. (Jesus 360- ILY Benny <3) They won't get stuck that way I promise. <strike>If they did I would be so cross-eyed I wouldn't be able to throw a rock and hit the ground.</strike> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><u>I do not believe having a Pinterest account is bad, not in the least. </u></b>However, for me, it was becoming a stumbling block. It was too easy for me to distract myself to look at recipes all day or to pin a board about home DYI projects, that I don't have a garage to do them in! <strike>Hello, I live in a condo downtwon Chi ! </strike></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now fundamentally there is nothing wrong with being able to look up how to use a mason jar in 100 creative new ways, but for me it was more than that. ( I know I know insert eye roll here. BUT it's a struggle for me) I would spend two hours on pining sappy lyrics or the picture of a sunset with a bible verse. Again, nothing wrong but it meant I wasn't doing anything. Just shaking my head at all the stuff I don't have. <u>Sad Sad Stephanie.</u> Oh look, what a cute pair of shoes, I need ANOTHER pair of shoes to collect dust in my closet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But then I had to ask myself <i><b>why</b></i>? What about all of this virtual crap was so appealing? It is because it is an escape, for me.It means I get so focused on not having a garage with an SUV and 2.5 kids, that I forget about all that I do have. The more I would look at these pictures of other people's crap the more I wanted it. Come on! I could rattle you off 200 hundred pages of the cute stuff I saw on Pinterest that I NEED! However, that is not for me right now. I do believe all of those things in God's good time, but I can't wish my life away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> As I have <u><b><i>PAINFULLY</i></b></u> learned, we ain't promised tomorrow. So If I spend all my time always redecorating my apartment I will never have time to have friends over to sit and chat. If I don't stop pinning away for things I don't have I will miss all that I do have. All of my blessings become a moot point if I am always peeking in the Jones' new-fancy-hand sewn-roman shaded-window. (Kudos to whomever can pull that off)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have been practice interpreting TED talks. They are a series of amazing lectures from topics on the Paleo diet all the way to Gentrification. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One of the talks is about whole-hearted living and learning to embrace every aspect of life. <b>Dr. Brene Brown states the simple fact that we are the most obese, debt riddled, medicated, and sedated nation in the world.</b> WOW. She also notes that people have a hard time dealing with any sort of discomfort. The more I looked around the more I had to agree. I am right there in the thick of it myself, heated toilet seats, anyone? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Again, nothing wrong with a heated toilet seat at 2 am. (BRRR) However, at some point the madness has to stop.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> This year has been a very tough year in my for several reasons and in many ways. So when she said we don't like any discomfort <b>GUILITY</b>. It hit me right then and there. I am never still. I never just be. <u>Those of you that know me are nodding your pretty little heads right now in agreement. That is ok, I know you love me and support me :</u>) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But what it means is that for the longest time I have just sat without my phone glued to face, or my headphones in, or the tv blaring. I don't like the discomfort.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><strike style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I can't stand the silence</strike><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">. It hurts. My heart hurts. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Uh, turned on the news lately? some people <u><b><i>really </i></b></u>understand the meaning of hurt. People losing their babies, mama standing over the grave of her child, people killing others over iPhones. Real life-altering pain some people experience.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have learned God is good even when he is silent. I know that because I stood over the casket of someone I dearly love and miss this past year. I know first hand he was a witness to thousands of people he never met. I still don't get it. I aint happy about it. So I won't pretend I have made my peace with it. I also held my little chunky delicious new nephew. I saw that life starts and life ends, at any age, and without warning. <u>You da man Cam, all 11 lbs & 7 Oz.<strike>OUCH && that head full of hair!</strike></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The real point of the talk was that there is nothing wrong with being uncomfortable and in pain. The longer we fight it the worse it becomes. It happens, it sucks, and it aint fair. But I didn't scoop out the oceans with my hands, and I don't know how many stars are in the sky, but I trust the person who does. So I will not be led astray by the temporary trappings, <b>the beer cans and fishing lures</b>, of this ol' world. It is quickly fading. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I will embrace every season of my life because I know blowing the candles out on my birthday cake another year is a priceless act. *Sidenote, my sister makes amazing and delicious cakes * Much I have seen and much I have done. <u><b>I understand happiness because I understand sorrow.</b></u> I do believe there is beauty in brokenness and comfort somewhere down the road. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So for now, I am doing my best to sit in the silence and walk through the fire but not be overcome. It burns but I am not consumed. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Some people say when they get to heaven someday they have no questions. Well good, that leaves more time for me to ask mine. In the mean time, I will rock the babies to sleep, do my homework, and wash the dishes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I will be thankful for what I do have because I was given more than I deserve. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So my prayer is that I continue to not lose sight of all that I do have, because I spent too much time looking and what I don't have. Maybe someday Pinterest and I will be old pals instead of arch enemies. Time will tell! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One for the road...</span></div>
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Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-68983391984178185342013-07-10T01:55:00.000-07:002013-07-10T01:55:38.241-07:00Travelin' Soldier"...<i>I guess we are all one phone call from our knees</i>..." Benny died on April 19, 2013. I got a phone call from his mom, Brenda, on that blustery Chicago morning. The horrific information she had to share would send me straight to my knees.<strike>Truth be told I am still there</strike>. I'll never forget her trembling voice and the harsh words she spoke.."Benny is gone." She said them through her tears and disbelief. He was gone forever. All at once, my heart shattered, my eyes blurred with tears, and my mind raced with questions. How? When? The most tormenting of all. WHY? <div>
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The last question, why, still haunts me as I walk this lonesome road of loss and despair. Grief <u>S.U.C.K.S.</u> There is no way around it. When someone you love dies, a piece of you dies, too. The heart aches because it must now beat without all of its parts. No remedies for a broken heart. I wish there was some way to drown out the deafening silence of such a profound loss What I wouldn't give for one more story, hear one more sweet laugh, or see that beautiful smile, just <i><u>one </u></i>more time. I miss you, Elvis. The only way to survive is to pray,cry, and cuddle up with a USMC pillow pet when this all seems to be too much to handle. </div>
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If I told you Benny fought harder than anyone I have even seen fight, it would be an understatement. Benny's bravery and determination will always be in a league of its own, in my mind. He was a Marine. He was a fighter. I was able to witness first hand his unwavering bravery. Ben made his way through insurmountable odds and physical pain that few can even comprehend. The GBS ravaged his body but not his spirit. </div>
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His mom stayed by his side everyday with steadfast loyalty. I watched as she would graciously tackle whatever daunting tasks each day brought. She did it all, from brushing his teeth, to documenting this journey on his FB page. (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/CplBenjaminGardner?fref=ts">https://www.facebook.com/CplBenjaminGardner?fref=ts</a>). Brenda kept up pound for pound with the doctors.No MD initials can ever replace a mother's love. They had their fancy degrees and books smarts. However, it was no match for the wit and wisdom that she is blessed with. Never in all of my life have I ever seen such tenderness and courage in one person. God gave her strength for all she had to endure day after day. Benny always asked "where is mom?" <u>Every. Single. Time</u>. I came in the room. That was always his first question. Blessed me to always answer that she was on her way without fail. Come rain or come shine. In those early days of his illness all he knew was that his mama would never leave his side. She traveled all over this country to be her son's side. I believe they pulled from each other's love. Even when a mama pokes, prods, and asks too many questions. There is just nothing like your mother's love. </div>
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The days have passed very slowly since Benny died. It's hell when I think off all he didn't get to do and see. He came so far and yet he still had so much that needed to be done. Ben and I were going to ride the CTA. (Chicago train) His job was to tell me how fast it went. Sometimes just hearing the freaking thing floods my eyes with tears. I am made painfully aware he will never get to ride it. This is a dark part of life for all of those that loved him. The grueling task of carrying on without him here sucks. I do not believe this was all for not though. Even when that feeling is ever present.. His story reached thousands of people across the globe. Pastor Chad said that we are all used for God's glory. This means even when it hurts. I do believe, with all of the pieces of my heart, that something good will come out of all this. However, it doesn't ease the sorrow and suffering. It's always a blessing to read his page that was filled with prayers, wisdom and encouragement. So many people came along on this journey of healing that ended up being his journey home. </div>
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I haven't blogged in months.Nothing to really say until now. Just getting my thoughts out. I miss my Elvis. He was many things to many people. He was a friend that I was able to walk beside on his journey to the sky. He is in Heaven . One day I will see him again. What a hope we have. Keep his family in your hearts and prayers. They walk this lonely and painful road of life without their Benny. I believe there is nothing more heartbreaking than attending your own child's funeral.</div>
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I am so thankful I have amazing people in my life that have prayed for me and cried with me. They have fulfilled the law of Christ by helping me walk this road. </div>
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The measure of a man is what he leaves behind. You left your mark on this heart of mine, Benny. Your story lives on in those of us that love you. We will tell the world. Your light and laughter will sustain us for the days ahead. I miss you, everyday. I love you. Thank you for letting me walk along beside you. I would do it all again in a heartbeat. The last thing I said to you was that I would miss you. I do.I will for days I do not have you near. </div>
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Those we love don't go away. They walk beside us, everyday. Unseen, Unheard, but always near. Still loved, still missed, and held so dear. <3</div>
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Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-18027330689005964302013-01-15T23:42:00.000-08:002013-01-15T23:42:14.469-08:00Butt Paste (Confessions of A Nanny Nanny Boo Boo Kisser)Many of you know, some of you do not, I am a nanny. I have always loved children. I have mostly worked in Home Health Care for many years ( I miss you Anne & Marg) . Well, Chicago is a new city so time for something new! I am trading in my days of being knee deep in Depends & Metamucil for a little helping of Butt Paste & Baby Yum Yum's. ( They are these waferish fruit flavored baby treats meant to soothe a fussy child and bring out enough drool to fill a large cement pond). Life is all about change right?! I have enjoyed my time being "the nanny." I will continue to do so while I attend Columbia! ( I know I know it's taking FOREVER!) Consider this your fair warning now! I will not apologize for the contents of this blog post. There will be talk about poop,farts,and, bodily functions of many forms. So if you are eating...might want to wait..or not...butt proceed with caution. <strike>(But remember I done told you this would be gross. Speaking of #2 go ahead and take a Lysol wipe over your keyboard. How do you know the person before you washed after they wiped?!)</strike><br />
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Confession # 1<br />
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Anytime a child farts or burps in public the blame automatically falls on the adult. This happened to me at Dominick's grocery store. The cute little crumb gobbler <strike>who shall remain nameless! Nugget ;) </strike> and I were having a grand ol' time until she ripped one that would put grown men to shame. I mean it was BAD. The man in the same aisle just looked at me and shook his head. No words were needed and what was there to say? Excuse me mam, you might want to check yourself. You could peel the paint off of a Buick with that kind of explosion. The potted plants by the cashier stand just all wilted and died! && PS you look like a real douchebag if you blame the child. Although it is tempting to blame it on those strained spinach and creamed pears. <br />
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Confession # 2<br />
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I have learned more words for poop in the last 5 months than I ever thought possible. This is by far one of the funniest aspects of my job. In no particular order here they are....poopa, dump, load, wad, stinky pete, meatball, brown clown, icky sticky, poopy pie,(<u> Ok this one bothers me, please do not equate dropping off the Brown's off at the Superbowl to the scrumptiousness of the awesome wonderfulness of pie. K? Got it? Thanks!) </u> Turd pile,filling up the diaper...many more but these are just a few. <br />
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Confession # 3<br />
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When riding the CTA bus while on the job, I do not give a rat's butt if you stare at me while the baby cries. I am caring for someone's child, jackwagon! Ever been on a CTA bus?! Huh? There is some smooth riding. Please. There was less break slamming and horrible driving in my driver's ed class! Work with me here! I am not going to take the baby out of the stroller to soothe her on the off chance something would happen the bus. I can't even begin to imagine the dangers not having her in her stroller while the bus is in motion. So rest assured I will stand in the same spot for 20 minutes and bouce the stroller, make faces at her, anything to keep her safe and happy until we arrive at our destination in one piece. Also, a huge thank you to the men that helped me off the bus that day. Not all strangers suck :) <br />
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Confession # 4<br />
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When I arrive at somenoe's house people have no shame answering the door half dressed. I mean grown men, at least 30 years old, for some reason ( I will never understand why) have no shame to stand their in their boxers, iron their work clothes, and talk about life. Umm.. Hello, you aint got no pants on! We are all adults here, yes, but eww. While we are on the subject of occupational hazards. I accidently found some adult toys one night while looking for band-aids. Seriously, kill me now. The kids are wonderful and the parents are great but ah-ha. I opend the drawer and suprise! I proceeded to very carefully push it closed with one finger. I was told to look in the bathroom drawer and I think they forgot that they wasn't no Band-aids in that drawer.( <u>That was the for-our-married-eyes-only-drawer-don't-nobody-need-to-see-that</u>) <br />
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Confession #5<br />
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I have "instincts." From what I am told darn good ones! I have just always loved children. I was talking to one of the mother's I nanny for and she spoke of the other nanny in a different light. Not negative, just not something you would write in a birthday card. She said she didnt' have those "instincts" like you do. You can read the baby, when she is tired, hungry, or just wants to be held. I have learned to trust my gut more. I am now more than ever aware of everyone who comes around my nanny child. Many times I am out for a walk or in public parks. I find myself noticing everyone who walks by. We can talk and be polite. However, I know without a doubt I would do anything for these kids. I would risk my own life in limb in a second for these children<strike>.(Even if they do fart loudly & in very public places!)</strike> When I am pushing a stroller down the road I have someone's entire world in this four wheeled contraption. So I will do anything I possibly can to keep them safe and sound.<br />
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Confession # 6<br />
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I dance and sing (loudly, off key, out of time, and very loudly) However, the kids laugh and sing along with me ( or maybe they are trying to drown me out?! Hmmm ;) When I sing, normally, dogs bark and garage doors open but with the kids it's different. One of my favorite ways to pass the time is the take my Friday girl, Nugget (affectionately called Nugget. No, that is not her real name, her parents love her very much!) the 8 month old, and dance and sing around the kitchen. She laughs and tries to sing and claps her little nuggety fingers. It is by far one of the best times of my week. We twirl around the kitchen in a haze of laughter and music. For those few moments nothing else matters. Her giggles and squeals fill my heart with joy and a sense of promise. I know these moments are fleeting. I was at her house when I heard the news about Sandy Hook. I couldn't help but cry as I looked at her in her crib sleeping soundly. So these precios few moments I have to see the good in the world is what I will cling to when the horror, agony, and shock of the nightly news seems to be too much for this heart to take. <br />
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So there are many more stories to tell, noses to wipe, and books to read. But for now I am content. I will enjoy the time with these children. I will read Thomas the Tank Engine with just as much heart on the 19th time as I did on the first time :) Toot Toot, Thomas. <br />
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Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-35881856732881567982012-11-29T12:48:00.000-08:002012-11-29T12:52:43.736-08:00Dylan & EricLast night I went to a play produced by my fellow Columbia students! So much talent at this school. There was not a dry eye to be found. The play was so shocking and enlightening. It took my breath away. The play was about the events leading up to the Columbine massacre. Not something that is fun or light hearted, but life ain't always that way! This play was written using first hand accounts eye witness accounts, home videos from the boys, and interviews with family and friends.<br />
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I didn't sleep much last night. My mind raced with a million questions, and my heart ached for those that were forever changed.The first thought I had was how thankful I am that something like that never happened to me when I was in school. Selfish, I know, but I can't wrap my head around it. I was also thinking about all my nieces/nephews/nanny kids/other honorary nieces and nephews I have that attend school. My heart dropped even lower. These boys were so young and so full of evil. How could two young boys be enraged with that much hate at such a young age?<br />
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Another thought that has been twirling around in my little head, is how am I treating people? I am at a school that I really don't have much in common with outside of my ASL crew. <strike>(This school is so open minded to drugs, sexual experimentation, and anything that helps with the "creative process." Ugh.</strike>) So this is a charge to myself. I need to pray for my fellow students. I need to make sure to smile and be a source of light. Some of the kids I have met here have had a <b><u>r.o.u.g.h.</u></b> road. Life hasn't always been kind. I am the first to say we are responsible for our own choices, and I will stand by that. However, sometimes just hearing stories about some of their lives breaks my heart. So as a Christian I need to show love not pass judgement. We had a kid on the 8th floor a few weeks ago kill himself. he put his car on the train tracks. Come on!!!!!!!!!!<br />
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The other little thought nugget I have been chewing on his how do is God in any of this mess? Seeing the actors in their black trench coats made my stomach turn. The hair on the back on my neck stood at attention when I saw the photo from the actual event. How do you move on from that? How do you find the courage to walk down a hallway again? How do the parents of the shooters ever heal? The answer is it must be a very long road. A road that is lonely and seemingly desolate. But I believe that the Light will always cancel out any darkness. I do believe that God has worked this evil situation out for his good.<br />
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Cassie Bernall was a victim of the shooting. She was asked if she believed in God and said yes. That was it. She was shot and <strike>killed instantly</strike>. Some people dispute this fact. Some say it wasn't her, but someone she was next to. <b><u>WOW</u></b>. This girl was 17 years old! <strike>(which ever one it was</strike>.) She was in the middle of the one of the worst situations a person could ever be in and she still said yes. I don't even know if I could do anything other than pee my pants in a situation like that. Let alone be brave enough to say yes, yes I believe. So my spirit isn't as restless as it was last night. There is evil among us everyday, yes! The battle is not of flesh and blood but of the spirit. It's on TV everyday. A person can't watch the news without seeing some sort of bad story about someone killing someone, or some other senseless act of violence that ends in bloodshed. However, I refuse to let that be the last word. The battle as already been won. This was just on my heart. Amazing how a two hour play could resonate so deeply into my soul and help to shake me. It's easy to feel world weary and jaded living in place like this. So I ask all of you to pray for me that I am a light up here. Also, pray for the people at your work place, your children's schools, people you encounter everyday. <br />
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Keep praying for Ben, Brenday & Family! It's a been a long road for all of them. He is doing so well despite this crazy road he has been on. It's not all for not! God is good all of the time, and all of the time God is good! :) <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CplBenjaminGardner?fref=ts" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/CplBenjaminGardner?ref=ts&fref=ts </a><br />
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<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-19583701547794243172012-10-17T13:39:00.001-07:002012-10-21T14:01:09.732-07:00Roomies<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">I have lived alone for the past few years. I have loved every stinkin' mintue of it. BUTTTT. <strike>( as Mr. Kracium would say, "The bigger the butt the bigger the problem." Alas! I have no problems. haha! Don't judge! )</strike> This semester I have a roommate. It wasn't in my original plan to have one, but when is it ever?! Here are a few things I have learned over these past few months. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">1). I have been told ..that I snore ...(doubtful, very doubtful!) ha.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">2). Grace is always cold & I sweat like a Hebrew slave.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">3). We use a roll of TP every 3 days.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">4). If you looked at the shower drain and saw all the hair, you would think we were both bald as a baseball bat!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">5). It really ain't that bad ;) <strike>Well, as long as you don't ask Grace! ha! </strike></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">That's what has been interesting about Columbia. I am learning so much everyday! I am learning about ASL, Deaf culture, Deaf people, Chi-town, CTA, and everything! There have been some wonderful friends/teachers and people in general that I have met up here. They have all been so wonderful to me. Grace and I are good friends. It's been a HUGE challenge for me to learn to live with someone, but it's learning experience everyday for me. This school has been such a blessing to me, and an answer to so many prayers. It's a very intense program, but it's so worth it! This whole 'roommate' situation is a new experience for me. So continue to pray for me please :) Around my desk I have pictures of all of my nieces/nephews and some other little kids I consider nieces/nephews ( and their wonderful artwork!!! ) It's a blessing every day to see all of their little <strike>(growing up too fast</strike>, boo) faces! </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">I am amazed everyday at how much my life has changed. It really has been wonderful. I feel like I have my feet on the ground for a change. I feel settled and content. God is so good! :) Having a roommate has even helped me be a better person. I am now more aware of how my actions impact others. I think for awhile I turned into myself a little bit (<strike>maybe too much?</strike>). I wasn't used to dealing with others on a daily basis. This is good for me. I am constantly being challenged and changed. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;">'Cause when I cross over Jordan, I'm gonna sing, gonna shout<br />
Gonna look into your eyes and see you never let me down<br />
So take me on the pathway that leads me home to you<br />
And I will walk through the valley if you want me to</span></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br />P.S. Keep praying for Ben!!!! He is getting better everyday! So Strong! Please continue to pray for the whole family! Thank you! <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CplBenjaminGardner?fref=ts">https://www.facebook.com/CplBenjaminGardner?fref=ts</a></span></span></span></div>
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<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-33093095296902575912012-10-02T10:32:00.000-07:002012-10-17T13:48:55.042-07:00Judy Garland<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Judy Garland was famous for playing Dorothy on the Wizard of Oz. Duh. Well she sang a little song that pretty much all of creation knows. "Somewhere over the Rainbow" there is a line that says <u>Somewhere over the rainbow<br />
Skies are blue,<br />
And the dreams that you dare to dream<br />
Really do come true.</u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Well I have found my blue skies. I am in Chicago. Not only am I living here but I love every minute. The sound of the "L" screeching past my room, or the skyscrapers I see out my windows. This town is what I love. Some people don't understand, some don't even like it. <strike>I don't care!</strike> I can't even begin to tell you the amount of blood, sweat, tears, and prayers that went into this being possible. Thank you to everyone who helped me get here. I love you all. More than I say. Also a big a thank you to my mom && dad. It ain't always been easy but we have stuck it out. <u>I love you both && I don't know where I would be without you</u>. Just a little bit longer and all of this college mess will be done! I miss but family, but being here lets me be apart of something bigger than myself. You all have taught me so much. Grace, Josh, Addison, Ivy, Maddox, Israel & Abel, I love you all. I'm sorry I can't always be there to see you all grow up. I have all of your pictures around my computer desk :) Taye, Shaye, Shannon, Haley, Beans, Joyce Anne, it's been a pleasure. You all have been with me through the good and the dumb. Fatty, I love you, I would be delighted to get kicked out of Wal-Mart with you any time! You all are priceless to me. Come see me everyone! I would love to show you around my city :) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Home this is home</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Now I'm finally where I belong</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I have been searching for a place of my own</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Now I have found it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Baby this is home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">P.S. Ben is doing so much better. God has been so good to him. Please continue to pray for him && check out his prayer page && share it. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CplBenjaminGardner?ref=ts&fref=ts">https://www.facebook.com/CplBenjaminGardner?ref=ts&fref=ts</a></span></div>
Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-46556455950920267892012-09-12T13:15:00.000-07:002012-10-17T13:48:39.964-07:00Bee Waggle<div>
I have learned that bees do this "dance" called the Bee Waggle. I am not making this up, this is not me being a hillbilly and using a funny name. Scientists with fancy degrees and white coats call this the Bee Waggle. What is it? Sounds like a dance that people do after ingesting too many yellow jackets. WRONG! This dance is what bees do to show other bees where the food is. <strike>Big deal, so what, who cares, next....</strike> WRONG MY FRIEND,WRONG! This is a huge deal because bees that haven't left the hive for 3 hours are still exactly right on telling the other bees where the food source is. ( TOLD YOU :) BUT it doesn't stop there<strike> ( I was totally floored by this, seriously mouth open going say wha?)</strike> Ever 15 minutes the sun goes down so the direction the bees must fly changes every 15 minutes. Is this amazing to anyone else?!!?!?! </div>
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I took this to mean that if God cares about the bees he cares about ME! </div>
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Yes God cares about me,duh. He dies for me and all of that. I have heard that COUNTLESS times in my life. However, I have lost my way bit over the past year. Been a little bit of a rough one. A lot of hard lessons,a lot of big changes. HOWEVER, this bee waggle information hit me like a mac truck. It is so easy to feel like because things haven't worked out the way I wanted them to I sometimes equate that with God's love. Well if he loved me then I would have X,Y,Z....WRONG!</div>
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This means that the God who spoke the world into existence with is breath still knows how many hairs are on my head. All 9 of em! My prof said that this amazing because they are born with this knowledge...well DUH but who made the bees?<b><u>! MY JESUS!</u></b> He loves me and he loves you. It is a very simple concept, not hard to understand, but it is deeply profound. If God makes sure the bees have food what makes me forget he will move Heaven and Earth to come rescue me when I call his name? It doesn't have to be in the front pew of church or Sunday school. He hears me when I am praying for protection,or walking down the streets of Chicago. He is a God that hears my prayers when they are silent but coming from the sterile walls of a hospital. He is faithful to complete the work he started in me. I believe that. So when this ol' world seems too much I will remember the Bee Waggle. I will remind myself open my eyes and look up. This reminds me on rough days to not get discouraged but to know that when I pass through the water I won't be overcome. The water might be at my lower lip, but I won't drown. </div>
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So let this knowledge about the bees bring you comfort as we all go about our lives. Life turns on a dime as many of us have learned this the hard way. So everyday, even on the ones that suck remember that God still loves you. He loved us when we didn't love him. He loves us still on days when we totally blow it. </div>
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<b>Romans 8:37-39</b> <i>No,
in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved
us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers,
nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth,
nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the
love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.</i></div>
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Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-90512752686651328992012-08-11T10:00:00.000-07:002012-10-17T13:49:01.498-07:0024+1What does a birthday mean? It means that after a bit there will be so many candles on my cake it will look like the burnin' of Atlanta! <strike>No numbers ya'll.</strike> After 25 years on this earth I have learned a few things. One of them is that I am blessed with many many people that love me. However, my favorite present this year was being able to attend my nephew's bday party. It wasn't some big shiny car, or a fancy pair or shoes, or Nars cosmetics.Shaye also asked if I wanted 30 Sunday News papers for my birthday. Smarty Pants! Happy Birthday to Shaye Shaye. She was born the 3rd I was born the 4th. So..that means smarty pants will be old before me. HAHAHHAHAHA. 22 hrs and 30 minutes but still! :) Anyway...Maddox's birthday party was SO.MUCH.FUN. <br />
There is something so wonderful about celebrating life! Especially when that life is Little Mr. Handsome! <strike>Have you all seen this kid?!</strike> I used to think my birthday was all about me. <strike>It is really ;)</strike> Just kiddin! For the first time on my birthday I was working for something bigger than myself. I was exhausted. I had driven all day, stopped at Shayes, and chased around some very sneaky milshake straws! (Also, made a moron out of myself at midnight in the Mcd's Drive thru) Only to discover what I had been chasing around was in the third drawer. Who knew?! Not Ash or Brandon! Ha. More to the point. We stayed up until the wee hours of the morning (it's a tradition) getting the house ready for the party. I also killed the BIGGEST spider I have ever seen. I mean HUGE.This sucker had his own area code. Brandon sprayed Spider-Die (Ok Ok it has a real name but that's what I call it) I stepped on it with is shoe! CRUNCH! :) long story( never is with me) short the party was great, baby was cute and the cake was to die for :) What hit me driving home really late and I was TIRED was that I was a part of something bigger than myself for once. I can't remember the last time I did something for somenoe else. It seems like everything lately has been about my move, or school. or me. me me. me. me.me.me....Stephanie Stephanie Stephanie S.T.E.P.H.A.N.I.E.<br />
The conclusion it is a wonderful feeling to be a part of something bigger than yourself. I was. I had forgetten how good it felt to help somenoe out. It was one of those times you leave exhausted and your eyes are tired, however your sould feels refreshed. There is an old country song (ain't there always! hehe. "The longer I live the more I believe you do have to give if you want to recieve.." I have been blessed with more than I can ever give. So I take that as a challange to give as much as I can! Even if it is somethin I bought with a coupon @ CVS. <br />
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P.S. PLEASE PRAY FOR THE GARDNER FAMILY. THERE IS A FACEBOOK PAGE PRAYERS FOR BEN GARDNER. MANY OF YOU KNOW THIIS FAMILY HAS ALWAYS AND STILL IS VERY SPECIAL AND VERY NEAR MY HEART. LOOK IT UP! PLEASE! :) <br />
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<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-54397578624469051032012-07-26T15:53:00.000-07:002012-07-26T15:53:29.795-07:00Rice && Razors<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What is these? Why do you have rice in a ramekin, in a bathroom, with a cheap-o Bic razor shoved in there? Razors belong in the bathtub with all the moisture so they stay nice and sharp. WRONG! :)<br />
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I have been using the same cheap-o razor a week! ( Ewwwwww!) However, my frugal ways have paid off. (Remember the pooping buffalo!?) It is still has sharp as when I first used it. (Here is another freebie tip for you : MEN'S RAZORS WORK BETTER!) DON'T ASK I CAN'T TELL YOU. I also use men's shave gel. WHY?! I'm glad you asked :) THEY WORK BETTER! Women's shave gel is always this fruity tutty parfait crap. If I want a parfait I will layer yogurt, fruit, granola myself. My legs don't need to be sunflowers and rainbows. I want them to be SMOOTH.<br />
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A few things I have learned along that way that also help me to save money...Glean from this what you will or not. In the words of Mr. Baker, "....the choice is yours"<br />
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1). Try new things.This razor and rice thing is new to me. So I tried it. Does it look hillbilly?! Heck yes! Do I care if you come to my apartment and say "HILLJACK!" not at all doll face. So experiment with new ideas you hear or give something new whirl and let me know how it works. Sometimes this work and sometime's it's big ol' FAIL.<br />
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2). Check the comments on the websites by the pro's. Colin @ <a href="http://hip2save.com/" target="_blank">Hip2save.com </a>posts all of the deals and match-ups for the week on Saturday night. By match up's I mean CVS, Walgreens, Walmart, Rite Aide , Staples, and a few more I believe. I normally only check CVS and Walgreens because that is what I have access to. Many times the comments have other ideas or ways to get better deals.It only takes a few minutes to scan them to see if anyone has any good ideas on what you need. Sometimes a coupon gets over looked making for an even better deal.<br />
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3). Learn when to say no.A few weeks ago there was a St. Ives Body scrub coupon that was a pretty good deal. However, I would have to drive to the Library (more on that on down the road) print it off and drive to Target. No freaking thanks! All to save .97 cents. So if it is a good deal and you will be said store that has a certain great deal then go for it. Other wise, make sure it is worth the hassle!<br />
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4). Get a dump account. I have one at Gmail. They have a huge storage limit. I use this when I sing up for free samples on hip2save.com or other places like it. So let's say I am going to Austin for my birthday. I can sign up for Austin's groupon and have it sent to my dump account, so it doesn't clog up my everyday email. Then when I need to look at Groupon deals for Austin. I just type "Groupon Austin" into my search inbox thingy and PRESTO!<br />
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5). Don't send everything to your dumb account! Hello, you just said get a dumb account. Make up your mind! I did..yes you can read. Congratulations! I use my CVS rewards and coupons weekly. So my CVS email is my normal email. It has saved me a lot and I mean a lot of money to have to have the CVS sent to my good email.<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"> (This year alone I have saved over $1600 ...out of pocket I have spent about $200 in cash there! )</span></b></u><br />
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6). Don't you ever apologize for using a coupon. Don't Ever. I will punch you in the throat! People need to learn to be patient<strike>.(Yes that includes me too) </strike> A tip to make your purchases go smoother is have everything all ready to go at check out! Some people circle or star everything they want in the ad and check it off one by one. I write down the store name, the coupon I am using how many of the item I need. It seems like it would take forever...but it doesn't! Once you get a system that works for YOU things will go smoother. I will agree it is annoying to wait behind Frazzled Fran looking for a .10 cent coupon.<br />
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7). Buy the Sunday paper the first week of the month. So that means this Sunday by the paper. Ik it isn't the first of the month yet but will be in the coupon world. Why?! Government checks and all of that come out the first of the month. So...that Sunday paper has the best and most coupons!<br />
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8). Organize your coupons. I only cut what I need for that trip. So then I'm not carrying around a wad of coupons. I do save my inserts and stash them in a folder until I need them again. I also use a sticky note to write the date on the insert. So if I need an insert from 5/58/12 I can find it quickly. Things I am always on the lookout for are shampoo, body wash and such. So I always clip those coupons and keep them tucked away in my little pink caddy. Yes, many of you have seen it and tease me! HAHA!<br />
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9). Check out the stores coupon policy. It sounds dumb Ik like reading your can manual. Um...pass. I mean it! Check them out. THey change all the freaking time! Hip2save.com has all of them listed for the drugstores and walmart I believe. So WHEN you come across a problem you can say hello bubba! No, no, no. Don't call anyone Bubba...but you get my drift. Always smile and be polite.<br />
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10). DON'T WATCH EXTREME COUPONING WHATEVER YOU DO! Why? here is my list. (Soapbox!)<br />
1). These people are freaks<br />
2). Hoarders<br />
3).Thieves<br />
4) Liars<br />
5). THEY ARE RUINING IT FOR YOU AND ME SISTA!<br />
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Many of these people are frauds because the stores they go to bend the rules for the taping of this stupid show. So then when the average Jane goes in to do the same it doesn't work. Also many of these morons have been busted for stealing. STEALING! One lady was caught walking up and down her street in her bathrobe (Sexy let me tell ya! ;) HA. ) taking her neighbors Sunday papers. Umm....HELLO...that's my paper. Even if I let it hold down the grass for a week. I am going to harp on this because it makes me mad and ruins A TON of good deals for you and me. Another big issue is these stores not think every coupon that is printed is a fake. So many stores won't take them because this show has given all of us a bad name. Also ,<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="text-decoration: underline;"> NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER EVER EVER EVER LET ME CATCH YOU 'BUYING' <span style="background-color: white;">COUPONS ON THE INTERNET. EVER FOREVER AND EVER AMEN.</span></b><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white;">A few weeks ago there was a big coupon ring (like the ones that sell Oxy or Methadone) but they sell coupons.The first time I read the story I laughed out loud. A coupon ring being busted and sent to prison?! HAHAHAHHAHA. However, to the fools that got it busted it was not laughing matter The website <a href="http://cents-off.com/" target="_blank">Cents-off.com </a> can tell you all about coupon fraud. People do go to prison for theft and cheating the system. A lot of these coupons they sell are FAKE. So if you buy a fake coupon use it and get busted it is your FAULT. These coupons state they can't be sold. SO DON'T! Buy more than one Sunday paper or ask friends for theirs, or sign up for free samples on Facebook to get free products and coupons. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">How do they ruin it for you and me?! I'm glad you asked. Now the coupon company's are saying by 2 and save $2 instead of just $2 off. So the more these freaks abuse the system the more in comes down to people like us who buy the limit. NOT 80 BODY WASHES THEY ARE ALLERGIC TO! If under you kids bed there isn't Candyland and a missing sock, but 1000 rolls of Angel Soft, step away from the coupons...put the scissors down..freak face! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">There are many other ways to save money and ideas. Many more to come! But these have helped me on my Buffalo pooping walk. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>P.S. I apologize for the wonky colors. Idk what the deal is. </u></b></span>Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-59406898471252541942012-07-13T14:27:00.000-07:002012-07-13T14:27:17.673-07:00Cars<span style="color: magenta;">I am the youngest of four children. I am forever the baby. Sometimes I like that title.Sometimes it drives me up a tall wall. However, something I have learned these past few years is that I have another brother. I already had two, now I have three. (Someone check my math ;) <strike>If you said you have two coupons and I give you another coupon, how many coupons do you have?! *Counts on fingers and sticks out tongue*. Answer : 3 coupons! I will also give you a hug for giving me a coupon! Hint Hint Birthday present! HAHA</strike></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;">Brandon is blonde hair, blue eyed, and German.So pretty much the total opposite of anyone in this house. HAHAHA. Laugh it's funny! Cuz it's true! :) He doesn't look like family but I consider him another brother.(If he was family though ewww! Addison would have 11 toes. The seven-four combo) When he first walked into this family I wasn't too sure about him because I wanted my sister treated right. Don't get me wrong there are days we can't agree on the color of grass but no one picks on my sister but me! Right!? However, there was something different about Brandon. Over time I would come to learn how much he loved my sister and she loved him. You know first comes love them comes marriage then .... little Ashley and baby blues eyes to boot! </span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;">Brandon has personally bailed me out on more than 6 occaisons. Yes more than that but remember I was tutored in high school and college in math so don't judge! Mama said if everyone swept in front of their own porches this world would be clean. Well not <em>my mom</em> but Queen Latifa. Anyways.....</span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;">Brandon not only laughed til he couldn't see straight when I got my finger caught in the blender at 2 am, but he still reminds me of "mixer finger" every chance he gets. Fair is fair :) </span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;">I could tell you story after story about how Brandon has done <u><strong>soooooooooooo</strong></u> much for this family. However, I won't. That's not what makes him such a good brother in law. What does make him the wonderful bro-in-law is that he does all of this out of love for my family. <strike>Truth be told we be crazy</strike>! *Sometimes* Cough Cough* He never asks for anything for himself or says I did x,y,and z and now you do for me. Never. Means more than I can say. I might not always want to hear the words of wisdom I get for free, but I know he is right. Kind of annoying ;) Here is for all the times I never said thank you. Also, here is for a time or two down the road I might forget to say it as well. It has truely been a blessing to have you in the family. Thank you for taking excellent care of my sister and my family. It doens't get said as often as it should but I'm saying it now. So remember this when I have done something stupid. You will lecture I might roll my eyes <strike>( I know I can hear the shock in your voices) </strike>but deep down I am happy to know I have another brother. I know it's Brandon's birthday tomorrow so HAPPY BIRTHDAY BROTHER. </span>Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-81332106844787276652012-07-05T13:02:00.000-07:002012-07-05T13:02:11.757-07:00A Size Too Small<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Leslie showed the apartment that I would be living in for the next year. She was friendly and assured me I would be happy at Barton Farms. However, the apartment I was given and the apartment I was promised turned out to be two different sizes. I ended up in the smaller aparrment <strike>BOO</strike>! (<i>don't ask I really don't understand it myself!</i>) I wanted the bigger apartment with more space so I could put more decorations (stuff) up and satisfy my desire for my own 'home.' True to form what I got wasn't what I signed up for. (come one folks, when is it ever!) I have learned over these past 12 months that I haven't been getting what I <b><u>want</u></b>. It has been a big<strike>(massive, huge, behemoth, ginormous,larger-than-life</strike>) heaping serving of what I <u style="font-weight: bold;">need.</u> These are two very different entities. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I take a step back I now can see what I want and what I needed are worlds apart. What I wanted was a place to call home, but I found <u style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">is</u> home. I met friends who I now consider family. People that had my back at 2 am when the chips were down. These are the people that I have laughed with, cried with, and shared my life with. People I love. Now I am looking at my 'home' as it takes on a new form. It is slowly coming apart piece by piece.(Geeze-a-Lou how does 1 person acquire so much "stuff?"!) What I'm doing is packing up all of the good experiences and learning from my mistakes. I thank the Lord everyday for all he has given me. I believe it is his will for me to move to Chicago and start a new life. Packing up is never easy to do. I would be lying if I said i'm not trying to type through blurry tear filled eyes. I could write for days (<strike>lifetimes</strike>) about all of my memories and experiences over the past year. Memories that make me mad, make me cry, make me laugh, and smile. These are all memories and people that I will never forget. From all of my experiences and lifelong friends at Indiana School For the Deaf to dinners with my (old) neighbors. Every single person that I have met this past year has changed my life in someway. In these past twelve months I have made new friends, reconnected with old ones, and walked away from a few. God is good all the time and all the time God is good. I heard that growing up all of the time in that little<span style="background-color: white;"> Pentecostal church. (<strike>We will get to Heaven if we don't roll right past it! Can I get an AMEN?</strike>) </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So my little apartment that couldn't fit my couch and love seat.*eye roll* turned about to be the size just right to fit a lifetime of love and laughter inside. There is a Broadway music called Wicked. Many of you know it, many of you don't.It is the rest of the story from the Wizard of Oz. Side note: Did the flying monkies give anyone else the heebie-jeebies?! Yes? No? Yes but you would never admit it?! Any takers?! There are few</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> lines (it's not word for word. I am paraphrasing. Vocab word! ) that sum up how I feel about my little apartment, and everyone this past year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: left;">I've heard it said t</span><span style="text-align: left;">hat people come </span><span style="text-align: left;">Into our lives </span><span style="text-align: left;">For a reason </span><span style="text-align: left;">Bringing something </span><span style="text-align: left;">We must learn.</span><span style="text-align: left;">And we are led </span><span style="text-align: left;">To those who help us </span><span style="text-align: left;">Most to grow, </span><span style="text-align: left;">If we let them, </span><span style="text-align: left;">And we help them in return.</span><span style="text-align: left;">...</span>
<span style="text-align: left;">It well may be </span><span style="text-align: left;">That we will never meet again </span><span style="text-align: left;">In this lifetime, </span><span style="text-align: left;">So let me say before we part </span><span style="text-align: left;">So much of me </span><span style="text-align: left;">Is made of what I learned from you </span><span style="text-align: left;">You'll be with me </span><span style="text-align: left;">Like a handprint on my heart. </span><span style="text-align: left;">And now whatever way our stories end, </span><span style="text-align: left;">I know you have re-written mine </span><span style="text-align: left;">By being my friend....</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">Who can say if I've been </span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">Changed for the better? </span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">I do believe I have been </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Changed for the better. <u><b><span style="font-size: large;">Because I knew you I have been changed for good...</span></b></u></span><br />
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<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-11636746330239171662012-06-26T14:34:00.001-07:002012-06-26T15:49:39.499-07:00Hey Good Lookin' What's You Got Cookin' ?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: magenta;">I love to cook and bake! I always have and always will. I am<i style="text-decoration: underline;"> trying </i> not to consume processed junk. Now that I'm on summer break I have more time to cook at home. Yum-o! So here is just a snippet of what's been on the stove lately! So my {LOVE THEM SO MUCH <3 } neighbors, Shannon & Chris, are always willing to be taste testers and give me feedback! (<strike>Sniff Sniff they are moving a few miles up the road. Sad Day Very Sad Sad Day. </strike>) </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1). French Bread Pizza with Peppers and Onions</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: magenta;">2). Homemade Coconut Organic Whole Wheat Almond Brownies</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">3). Lasagna Roll-ups! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0EPShPXZzaYB1mG4gVhIoUfmcoznpvgfaivauTNX3sy2BZG-jr7XIn2USNMm8fmV7zzCvbqF1X3iGkgsBcQFl0Nc19sgtNoOBLQuYyHcs_itgorny_Ph07yEGq8N77W_wgMtwJfprydMW/s1600/2012-06-07_18-22-45_691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: magenta;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0EPShPXZzaYB1mG4gVhIoUfmcoznpvgfaivauTNX3sy2BZG-jr7XIn2USNMm8fmV7zzCvbqF1X3iGkgsBcQFl0Nc19sgtNoOBLQuYyHcs_itgorny_Ph07yEGq8N77W_wgMtwJfprydMW/s320/2012-06-07_18-22-45_691.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimDBwu6ry_N7GdUFuZFmhdd00cXYbP5mBRFj08AfE8PWA_EqqvY-7jMXJvQeHy7dvb1Jf0m3KGcDNFiUg2-OPflVO-Sq4Yo_otbs6l5-weev_T4Ib8DY9AHKC_l1eKtJfMxzKcsBNLt2S/s1600/IMAG0025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: magenta;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimDBwu6ry_N7GdUFuZFmhdd00cXYbP5mBRFj08AfE8PWA_EqqvY-7jMXJvQeHy7dvb1Jf0m3KGcDNFiUg2-OPflVO-Sq4Yo_otbs6l5-weev_T4Ib8DY9AHKC_l1eKtJfMxzKcsBNLt2S/s320/IMAG0025.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF8jbGwO0sRrx3c1QR8ilFIdk8C8hyphenhyphen72Ml5h0-OWU7arL9j_yYadCaRrYfbo6dsvWnI0eIqBY3Lc1WouNYv7cxqc7gC42k85OH8HfCw_0qeFhORf5yHXp9xYhVYjUCEFTA5FXFA2z2vYoa/s1600/IMAG0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: magenta;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF8jbGwO0sRrx3c1QR8ilFIdk8C8hyphenhyphen72Ml5h0-OWU7arL9j_yYadCaRrYfbo6dsvWnI0eIqBY3Lc1WouNYv7cxqc7gC42k85OH8HfCw_0qeFhORf5yHXp9xYhVYjUCEFTA5FXFA2z2vYoa/s320/IMAG0022.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">Cooking is relaxing because I turn on my music and go to town! (<i>If the walls could talk right?! HAHA! </i>) I have no desire to be a chef or cook. However, one upping Martha Stuart Camp Cupcake Queen is fun. Have you ever watched her show? I DVRed it. She is mean! (<strike> Miss Thang could make the devil cry</strike>) I found myself annoyed. Everything has to be look perfect. Well keep it movin' sister! This is the college-early 20's something edition! So consider this your fair warning. Hold on and hope that I don't light my eyebrows on fire! :) <strike>(Seriously though, with all the make-up I wear it's a wonder I haven't light up like a Christmas Tree. that would be FUNNY though. )</strike></span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">The French Bread pizza I had once at a party with-old-what's-her-head-I-haven't-the-slightest. So here is the break down. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI57R5jEZdvaVlcDIBMLR5rAM1DK_7YzeLzKyDtCtiXHn8NFMfIRYOSerhibm87jCCX3Vx9mKJ5JCB6cOVKdd5tN_-UUG0qMz8UYNHyqWKMp-K3MghWwuTRh4tZELMIqLO42uL2xIHSf34/s1600/2012-06-07_17-30-27_405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: magenta;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI57R5jEZdvaVlcDIBMLR5rAM1DK_7YzeLzKyDtCtiXHn8NFMfIRYOSerhibm87jCCX3Vx9mKJ5JCB6cOVKdd5tN_-UUG0qMz8UYNHyqWKMp-K3MghWwuTRh4tZELMIqLO42uL2xIHSf34/s320/2012-06-07_17-30-27_405.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKpPsRFGLGaYi9X-hykIihxwC9udo7mGoV_3VXpKawYfc65bcGV_1_2ugZB71sli_ogEID8-mJydyh6j_AjiwgI0XMEEyE7RHiBmRkrvWTk6LWVSh49ETxc0e-bMqVFqDU9G0sV4EGvh8j/s1600/2012-06-07_17-37-31_772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: magenta;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKpPsRFGLGaYi9X-hykIihxwC9udo7mGoV_3VXpKawYfc65bcGV_1_2ugZB71sli_ogEID8-mJydyh6j_AjiwgI0XMEEyE7RHiBmRkrvWTk6LWVSh49ETxc0e-bMqVFqDU9G0sV4EGvh8j/s320/2012-06-07_17-37-31_772.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">Cut a baguette or the Hill Jack Indiana word French Bread! <i>( Are you happy now Taye Taye?! baguette- It's French and worldly. hehe. Love you ! Can't wait for you to come down) </i>3 Medium Bell Peppers. 1 medium onion. I bulb of Garlic. Garlic Powder or Garlic Salt. 2 C. Moz or Parm Cheese. Oilve Oil. 2 Cans Diced tomatoes. </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1). Cut baguette in half. Coat with olive oil. 2). Put on cheese any cheese that you like will do. 3). Chop up and saute peppers,onions, tomatoes, and garlic all together in a pan with a little olive oil. Cook long enough until you can smell all of the veggies! 4). Add garlic salt if you love garlic (like me) to the veggie mix! 5). Transfer veggies to bread. 6). Add the rest of the cheese & bake at @ 375 for 15 min. Baking times will vary. My oven is weird. Remember everything is cooked already so you are just browning the cheese and the crust! *Some people say this is wonderful with Italian sausage* Go for it baby! :) I just chose to use what I had on hand. This doesn't reheat well.</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">The Brownies are the best. (Duh) This recipe is from my mama. Thanks Tarmy :O </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1 C. Organic Sugar in the Raw</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1/2 C. Coco (Love me some Trader Joe's Unsweetened Coco!) </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1/2 C. Organic Coconut Oil </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1 Tsp. Vanilla </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1/2 C Whole Wheat Flour</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1 Pinch of salt </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">3 Farm Fresh Eggs </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1/4 C. Raw Almonds</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">Mix all ingredients in a bowl. Add batter to a greased pan. Bake. Eat. Wash down with a glass of milk. Repeat. Bake at 425 for 30 minutes. Again oven times are iffy at best. This worked for me though. I also use 3 eggs because it makes them a bit fluffier. If you have a nut allergy and you <u>don't </u>want your face to swell like a balloon simply don't add the nuts :) <strike>Remember I know CPR ;) I am obligated by law to save you ,if you do something stupid. I ain't afraid to throw down ! :) </strike> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFhapS5qc2eTqHxtxQljhHvy4dFYQzgHW1fDaZlVbi1yjuNqOuJALE9CKMCs8iOSFIqmfa3tQ5eEp4_-62gADZtbd8h4XAR5-GKokfscsB2SFV0UirHSPGHXF-duCs86I06o3jh8e28-e/s1600/IMAG0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: magenta;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFhapS5qc2eTqHxtxQljhHvy4dFYQzgHW1fDaZlVbi1yjuNqOuJALE9CKMCs8iOSFIqmfa3tQ5eEp4_-62gADZtbd8h4XAR5-GKokfscsB2SFV0UirHSPGHXF-duCs86I06o3jh8e28-e/s320/IMAG0016.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcklnYdQzzxWrZUai8T0461ZIZx6kQoofrpZO-px3znoqrunLfPNaAFAq4CyWSrwGqPsXASqVKAU_voQWYNiNYmHNvNlvmYVL8AKWozj6KzToEYgsOrkHZJDTDfSE_Hl3ivKzfzQaRgLd/s1600/IMAG0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: magenta;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcklnYdQzzxWrZUai8T0461ZIZx6kQoofrpZO-px3znoqrunLfPNaAFAq4CyWSrwGqPsXASqVKAU_voQWYNiNYmHNvNlvmYVL8AKWozj6KzToEYgsOrkHZJDTDfSE_Hl3ivKzfzQaRgLd/s320/IMAG0018.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIpbhZmrodhRxwIqgLSTjANecrH0s02uvNGXBir-iWOrZLb5Qzhja5iv4FfNFbVLuPAEos9985Tcw3zvlOi6pmSR7m8WLI00Z65NrC2qBgK1eofBNkd9CpyvQN3b13iEMHFhBL5toB_Clb/s1600/IMAG0020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: magenta;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIpbhZmrodhRxwIqgLSTjANecrH0s02uvNGXBir-iWOrZLb5Qzhja5iv4FfNFbVLuPAEos9985Tcw3zvlOi6pmSR7m8WLI00Z65NrC2qBgK1eofBNkd9CpyvQN3b13iEMHFhBL5toB_Clb/s320/IMAG0020.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: magenta; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijT8c0yf9ilCyXhx-GkaKcSE1fDMBa9kQtOUVzAAObrFa9AgzXAunZoFqZK2JXiaSsNvGd0465CwfXy0QB3lfGVeIKlQYXyDpWj3ptbQgjqVUWMxy5igIMV2jf2w2jArU_aNMViL0gekCn/s1600/IMAG0021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijT8c0yf9ilCyXhx-GkaKcSE1fDMBa9kQtOUVzAAObrFa9AgzXAunZoFqZK2JXiaSsNvGd0465CwfXy0QB3lfGVeIKlQYXyDpWj3ptbQgjqVUWMxy5igIMV2jf2w2jArU_aNMViL0gekCn/s320/IMAG0021.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">These are my new favorite! Well Garfield and I. ( Fun Fact. I loathe cats. However,one that likes lasagna is the only one that I like. ) </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1 Jar Pasta Sauce</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">6 Lasagna noodles</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">2 C grated Cheese -I used Chedder and some Italian blend</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1 Container cottage cheese</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1 Egg</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">1/4 C. Diced Onion</span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">This recipe is amazing because it is super easy! You can use hamburger or not. Again, I used what I had on hand. I am trying to do at least 3 meatless meals a week. So this is one of them. If you don't put it in you won't miss it I promise!<u><i> I need a red b<span style="background-color: white;">umper sticker that says I'm a carnivore. Hehe. Nuts to you PETA! </span></i></u></span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">This looks and is messy. I promise you though it is scrumptious.*Cough Cough Toot Toot My Own Horn Beep Beep* There are are 1,258,599.6 different recipes for Lasagna. So I encourage you to use whatever works for your budget,waste line, and family. </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">First, boil noodles. While the noodles are boiling cook pasta sauce. I add the onion in while it is cooking. I also add Garlic powder.<i> (Tip # 2 See all the garlic I use. I meant what I said about being careful with food allergies. You don't want my garlic breath coming at you. :) </i>While all of this is cooking mix together 1 egg. 1 Container of cottage cheese and 1 C of your grated cheese into the mix. Drain noodles. In my efforts to save time and not dirty up every pan in my apartment, I have a handy little work station. Refer to above picture. Carol Engle, (Love you so much!) Gave me big glass cutting board. This is the secret to my perfect little work station. I placed the pan of pasta sauce on a hot pad thing? (Yes I know Martha would know the proper name for it. She probably also sells one at the K-Mart! Blue Light Special ) Ha. Anyway, I also used the sauce pan lid to hold my noodles. I spread about a 1/4 C of pasta sauce on the bottom of my pan. Then lay out all of you noodles and begin. Spread your cheese mix on first. Next, add your sauce and do the tootsie roll. THIS WILL BE MESSY, BUT WHO CARES? Do you own hand soap and a clean towel? Then it's no worries :) After you roll these up and place them in your pan, wash your hands. After that get a spatula and put all of that sauce and cheese mix in your pan. Didn't your mother teach you not to waste good?! Any left over sauce can be added as well. Then add remaining cheese & bake! Bake at 425 for 30 min. until the cheese bubbles. This dish can be made up the night before. I made two pans of this last night. The first batch was for dinner guests, the other was for work lunches. I let it cool and place one roll in foil. I am not sure how long these last in the freezer. (Why? I eat them within a few days. Ha.) So how long you keep them in the freezer is in your hands! </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">I have made the switch to whole wheat pasta and grains. You might call Bull Crap! The noodles above are white, yes you are right! However, I wasn't going to chuck those noodles because they are white. My new box is whole wheat. Make the switch, it is weird at first but worth it. I feel better eating healthy. It is also relaxing and fun to cook my own food.(<strike>Dancin' around my kitchen singing loudly and off key to country music or Gaither songs!</strike> ) There is also a sense of accomplishment in knowing my hands nourish other people. Use whole wheat flour in the brownies, no one will know the difference. If they do, well then more for you! :) </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">Recently, I have also made Whole wheat organic chicken and broccoli Pita pockets, Organic Ranch and Cheddar burgers, Organic parmesan zucchini bites, Homemade Chicken Parm. It feels good to eat real home made food. This makes week number 3 of no fast food! </span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">SO I GOTTA ASK......WHO WANTS TO COME OVER FOR DINNER :) </span></div>
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<br /></div>Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-86197087334368385272012-06-16T20:24:00.001-07:002012-06-17T01:07:13.024-07:00Why Wait?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Happy Father's Day. I thought of many ways to say that. I thought back to funerals I have attended. This song has been a staple at many of of them. This song has given me pause for more than one reason. The most important reason is how many of those men would they have been touched or even shocked to hear their children choose this song for them? <b><u>So why wait?</u></b> Many of you have heard the song Holly Dunn's "Daddy's Hands." I couldn't think of a better way to say Happy Father's Day than to post this song. It's not too often <strike>(if ever) </strike> that I feel like someone can say something I want to say better than me. However, I will concede. This song is perfect. I don't want this <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">to be a funeral song. I don't want to wait for all of the things I should have said. So I am saying them now. Here it is Dad! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I remember daddy's hands folded silently in prayer<br />and reaching out to hold me when I had a nightmare<br />you could read quite a story in the caluses and lines<br />years of work and worry had left their mark behind<br /><br />I remember daddy's hands how they held my momma tight<br />and patted my back for something done right<br />there are things that i've forgotten that I loved about the man<br />but I'll always remember the love in daddy's hands<br /><br />[chorus]<br />Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin<br />Daddy's hands were hard as steel when I'd done wrong<br />Daddy's hands weren't always gentle but I've come to understand<br />there was always love in daddy's hands<br /><br />I remember daddy's hands working til they bled<br />sacrificed unselfishly just to keep us all fed<br />If I could do things over, I'd live my life again<br />and never take for granted the love in daddy's hands<br /><br />[chorus]<br />Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin<br />Daddy's hands were hard as steel when I'd done wrong<br />Daddy's hands weren't always gentle but I've come to understand<br />there was always love in daddy's hands<br />[repeat]</span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br /><br />Read more: <a href="http://artists.letssingit.com/holly-dunn-lyrics-daddys-hands-5jf7dg2#ixzz1y17UtNWc" style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal verdana;">http://artists.letssingit.com/holly-dunn-lyrics-daddys-hands-5jf7dg2#ixzz1y17UtNWc</a> </span></span>Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-52260996708198629772012-06-12T13:30:00.002-07:002012-06-12T13:53:04.048-07:00Amish In 4 Inch Heels<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My goal is to live downtown Chicago (<strike>10 weeks && counting baby!)</strike> and be as Amish as possible! I have decided to be self-reliant. Here is a list of my top 4 homemade products. I debated on adding in tortillas. Those need their own post! Coming soon. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1). <b>Homemade Deodorant.</b> This deodorant is awesome! I sweat like Hebrew slave. So it is imperative that my deodorant work well. Some people will turn up their noses to this. (Get over it! It's deodorant) The recipe is from Pinterest. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2).<b>Homemade Face wash</b>. Lucky Duck! I have always been blessed with wonderful skin.<i> I can't complain</i>. I will get the period pimples once in blue moon. That is the extent of my "acne." So I have ditched fancy expensive face washes && creams. (unless my tight-fisted self can find them for free! Love my CVS!) </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3).<b>Homemade All-Purpose Cleane</b>r. I use a combination of Dawn (blue it needs to be classic BLUE), vinegar, and baking soda to clean my entire apartment. I <u>LOVE </u>them because they are inexpensive, healthy, and simple. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">4).<b>Homemade Beans.</b> Beans Beans the magical fruit the more you eat the more you.... <strike>fart</strike> (for my mother's sake the more you<i> toot</i>) These beans are perfect source of protein. They are also very filling. I eat them for lunch at work with my homemade tortillas all of the time. I use these beans in homemade tacos, homemade refried beans, and homemade breakfast burritos. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How do you make all of this stuff by yourself? It doesn't make sense that someone who wears more make-up than Tammy Faye && walks around in 4 in. heels is so *gulp* Amish?!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2 Reasons </span><br />
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<li><span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My mama, Carmen!
This is where I learned to cook, clean, and sew . Growing up my mother always made everything from scratch.. She didn't believe in junk. She fed our family with hard work, elbow grease, and love. These ingredients are not found in cheap processed <u><i>garbage</i></u>. <strike>(I think this is why my food never tastes like mom's)</strike> Boo ;( Despite my best efforts it's never like her's. Anyone else notice this?! You follow <i>their </i>recipe to the letter but no dice! I think it's a comfort of home. Something I have learned to appreciate now that I'm on my own. Growin' up ain't for sissies! No mam! </span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Pinterest. Some many people are smart,creative, and bored. It is amazing what people come up with. Sometimes I am floored by people's creativity ! Seriously, have you seen this stuff?! Red velvet cheesecake brownies, serving trays from spearmints, homemade baby wipes! Moses! Anyways, this forum allows people to be creative and fun. Another reason I believe it is another hit is because Pinterest is a creative outlet. So many times if a person suggests the idea of making homemade deodorant, or cleaning products from vinegar, there is always a nay sayer. The cool thing is about Pinterest when you post an idea, saying, or recipe, it generally gets repined. (<i>I believe a pin is a virtual high five. For all of you men this is the good-game good-play slap on the butt). </i> </span></li>
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<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Enough chit chat woman! Tell me what to do!</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1). I have adapted this recipe. However here is the original. <b>Another critical topic is to always give credit where credit is due. </b><a href="http://smashedpeasandcarrots.blogspot.com/2009/08/natural-deodorant.html.">http://smashedpeasandcarrots.blogspot.com/2009/08/natural-deodorant.html.</a> However, in my recipe I use 3 T. organic coconut oil. 1 T. baking soda. 1 Tsp. baby powder. 1 T. corn starch. I mix them all up with a fork in a ramekin. ( the dish you put Ranch dressing in when you order the dressing on the side.Thank You River Terrace) Next, I put it into an old deodorant container. I put it into the fridge to solidify. <b>Eureka!</b> It can be stored in the medicine cabinet. However, I don't suggest leaving it in your car. The coconut oil can get melt-y. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47;">2). This came from Pinterest again <a href="http://frugallysustainable.com/2011/10/simple-homemade-eye-makeup-remover/" target="_blank">http://frugallysustainable.com/2011/10/simple-homemade-eye-makeup-remover/</a> I didn't have the soap she uses. So I used Castor oil instead. (Yes, this is the same oil that is normally used for constipation. Someone hasn't been eating their beans ;) I used a rummage-sale jar to hold mine. My recipe is 1/2 C. Olive Oil & 1/4 C. Castor Oil. Combine ingredients in container & boom baby! The Castor oil draws out the dirt. The Olive oil makes your skin supple. I use my fingertips to apply the face wash. (<i>Some Mary Kay lady told me to rub up so I don't get wrinkles. Probably a load of hog wash. However, I still rub upwards in a circular motion</i>.<i> <strike>So much for me and my principles of not buying into mainstream hype!</strike>)</i></span><span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47;"> Next,take your washcloth and get it all nice and hot. I prefer mind scalding.(Remember, I have tough fingertips from flipping tortillas with my bare hands. Rawr.I am Woman.) Then ring it out and let it rest on your face for a minute. Wet it again && then wipe it off! There is your facial. Take that Clinique! *Shakes fist to over-priced products*</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3). I use 2 parts of Classic Dawn to 3 parts of vinegar. Again, i just use the Wal-Mart brand of vinegar because with the overage on coupons I can get it super cheap. I bought a dollar store squirt bottle and mixed the ingredients together! I love this stuff! You can adjust the recipe if you feel the need. I clean the tub, kitchen counter, fridge, everything with this stuff! I also use the baking soda & vinegar to the clean the garbage disposal <strike>(that is some nasty stuff in there.)</strike> Vinegar also cleans the toilet. Just add a splash. Come back in 5 minutes && BAM! Clean Lou! Source: Vinegar: Over 400 Various, Versatile, and Very Good Uses You've Probably Never Thought Of. I couldn't find a direct link to any on Pinterest. So this book is where I pulled these recipes from.
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">4). The magical fruit (protein). Buy a bag of pinto beans. I buy mine at Aldi. Meijer has Pork Salt in by the ham. It looks like short fat bacon. However,it is not! Bummer. Open the bag of beans and remove any bad looking beans and rocks. Don't ask. Rinse beans off in cold water . Drain them and then put them in the crock-pot on HIGH!<b> THESE STEPS MUST BE FOLLOWED TO THE LETTER! 1). THE BEANS MUST BE ON HIGH FOR 8 HRS. 2). KEEP THEM COVERED WITH WATER. 1/2 INCH AT ALL TIMES. ADDING MORE WATER WHEN NEEDED.</b><b>THEY MUST BE TOTALLY SUBMERGED IN WATER. 3). I PUT THE PORK SALT IN AT HR. 5. LET IT COOK FOR ANOTHER 3 HRS. </b>If you don't keep your beans underwater they will not turn out right. This is my mother's recipe. <strike>(I'm sure the source is from someone who managed to jump the fence && run bc boarder patrol was on their heels)</strike> After the eight hours is up remove beans from heat.Also don't break up the pork salt & remove once the 8 hrs are up. I just put the pot itself on a few hot pads and let cool over night.Divide the beans up in some for the fridge && some for the freezer! Enjoy! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Don't feel like you have to try everything tonight or even this week. If something strikes your fancy go for it sister! However, I encourage you to go slowly so you aren't overwhelmed. If you think a recipe could be improved by adding or omitting an ingredient or two by all means! Some one might even say this is crap and I buy my Clinique at Macy's that is perfectly fine as well :) I am just sharing the experiences I have had on my buffalo squeezing journey!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I will leave you with this! I have a friend that uses & swears by Latisse. (The stuff that makes your eyelashes grow in length and thickness). That little bottle runs a whopping $100. <strike>OUCH</strike> So, I found a cheaper version that fits into my budget. VASELINE! Yep! <i>That Stuff!</i> I have been applying it every night just a dab on my eye lashes before I go to bed . I have noticed longer and thicker eyelashes. Also, I have also had a few compliments ;). Try it! I dare you!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666; color: #741b47; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Source <a href="http://www.mythirtyspot.com/2011/09/20-uses-for-vaseline-girls-best-friend.html">http://www.mythirtyspot.com/2011/09/20-uses-for-vaseline-girls-best-friend.html</a></span><br />
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<br />Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8415938577112774154.post-33265016866078087502012-06-10T17:50:00.002-07:002012-06-11T00:09:59.140-07:00Poopin' Buffaloes<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: purple;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: purple;">I do many things to squeeze the nickel until the buffalo poops! One of the things I do is coupon. I use two websites that help me to do this. My favorite is <a href="http://Moneysavingmom.com/">Moneysavingmom.com </a> the other is <a href="http://Hip2Save.com/">Hip2Save.com</a>. These two women work tirelessly to help others get the most bang for their hard earned dollars. They each hav<u>e a hos</u>t of tools to help you stay on track with your money.Their sites help the (<i>savings illiterate) </i><u>newbies</u> to carefully navigate the confusing world of coupons and stock piling. I encourage anyone who wants to save money, to check out these sites. It is well worth your time. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: purple;">Anyone who wants to save money must learn this cardinal lesson. <u><b>TIME IS MONEY!</b></u> Another, rule that must be adhered to is <u><b>SAVINGS DO NOT PUT THEMSELVES IN YOUR SHOPPING CART!</b></u> If you want to save money you are going to have to work at it. It takes a while to get into the groove of shopping for a week at a time instead of night-by-night. However, like anything that is important if it is important you will find a way. If not you will find an excuse. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: purple;">Nothing makes me crazier than to hear people say "I don't have time to save money." or "I'm not smart with math." Well listen up honey, neither am I! I had a tutor in high school && in college! <strike>However, I have redeemed myself by saving my dad so much money now! Redemption is sweet! </strike> Saying you don't have time to save money is fine, if you like lighting money on fire. I get my Sunday papers on Saturday. I get the Weekend Journal bc it is .50 cents cheaper than the Indy Star && has the Red Plum insert. It's only .50 cents what's the big deal? Well, If I buy at least two papers a week that saves me $1 a week. 52 weeks in a year. That is at least $52, sometimes I will buy more than two papers. That meager $52 will pay my water bill twice! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: purple;">The key to saving money isn't to be these extreme couponers (<strike>HOARDERS!) </strike>No human needs to buy 90 bottles of Tide. Half of the time these people will say "Oh baby, I done got me 85 bottles of body wash for free!" "No I can't use that kind bc I'm allergic real bad. I will break out into hives if it makes contact with my skin, but they was free." <i>(*crosses eyes* for more than one reason)</i> Here is an example. CVS has the Charmin toilet paper on sale. If you buy $30 of it you will get $10 in ECB back. This is actually a very good deal. No coupons needed for this, just scan your Extra care card. It is free to sign up. You give them the TP and money. Then something <b><u>AMAZING </u></b>happens! They give you back money for their store. This isn't cash, it is strictly money for their store. However, you can use this to turn around and buy something else in CVS!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: purple;">Another tip in this saving money game is to not compare yourself to other people. I have found this to be most helpful in my savings journey. If I compare myself to what <i>you </i> have I won't be happy. If you compare yourself to <i>me</i> you won't be happy. Moral of the story be thankful for what is on your table. This is hard pill to swallow. <u><b>Something I work on every single day</b>.</u> I do believe it is the Devil that whispers you aren't happy until you have that fancy car. Or those sexy high heels with the shiny red bottoms. (Christian Louboutins are thousands of dollars a pair) *Gasp* a few of those could pay for Columbia! Stop putting happiness into <u>STUFF </u>and <u>THINGS.</u> I promise you, <u>STUFF</u> && <u>THINGS</u> do not a happy life make. Shhhhh all of you that say "Stephanie, you are exactly right! However, I would rather cry in my Bentley than my Gremlin!" </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: purple;">This is a topic I could spend a lifetime on. This is just the tip of the iceberg for all of this world of savings and making your own face wash! These websites should help you get going on your savings journey. I am always a phone call, text, or email away. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: purple;">A few things that will also help you get poopin' buffalos is (<strike>Remember the ADD?)</strike> <strike>a</strike>lways write down what you are going to buy. Also, write down whatever coupons you will be using. This tip is CRITICAL for everybody. Take stock of what you already have. If your pantry has 50 can of green beans stock up on corn this week. After you have looked at all you have, say two prayers. One being thankful for all you have. Another is for everyone that doesn't. I started doing this along time ago. I pray two prayers when I drive by Lutheran hospital. It is a long story, however, the key element is a thankful heart. Every time I pass that hospital, I thank the Lord for still having my dad around. I also say a prayer for everyone who is on the other side of that door praying for their loved ones. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: purple;">Rest assured there will be many more posts on saving money and all kinds of other wonderful topics. This should get you not the right path! Thank you all for reading the wonderful comments,texts, emails, and support you have all shown me! <u><b>I love you all</b></u> && I am BEYOND thrilled that we are all in this together. </span>Stephanie Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05793393538441800112noreply@blogger.com1