Holy CRAP what happened to bitter-angry-pissed-off-super-ranting Karen?

 

Life.

 

I'm so in love with my life right now. I feel so free. I feel so in control of everything. I feel just so happy wonderful and full of hope and promise.

 

My daughter is doing great. Shes settled back in with me beautifully.

My job is KICK ASS and today I was told that I get to be more involved with marketting and that they view me as principle/partner material. (YAY)

The house makes me happy with all the plants starting to grow and pop up and feel more mature and looking great.

I've met some really cool people over the last little while that have really opened my eyes to whats out there. I can't wait to know some of them more!

I've re-connected with a few lost friends that I'm super happy to have re-found. AWESOME.

I think I found a way to buy a new vehicle with NO american credit. My god let me just say that hacing no credit is like being bankrupt for crying out loud. ><

 

So thats it. The sun is smiling on my happy little life and I just couldn't be happier. YAY :)

Well its been a heck of a couple of weeks. I've found myself working endless nights and days on the hospital job. If you are from GA then you are familiar with the Americus Tornado... and that it destroyed a local hospital. Thats what I've been working on. The company I work for is building a temporary emergency hospital that will be active for 3 years while we re-construct their new hospital. Chaos at it's finest.

 

I was in Americus on Sunday, arriving at the ass crack of dawn and what I saw when the sun kissed the land, looked like a war zone. Smouldering piles of broken tree limbs. Tarped roofs and snapped chimneys. Crumbled sidewalks and shattered glass. My boss assured me that this was looking GOOD considering what it looked like the day after the Tornado. How sad for those poor people. Imagine getting up one morning and having no job to go to work at because half of it blew away!

 

The most amazing part of their tale is that no matter how bad things seem there, the people are so optimistic. They are embraceing each other and becoming a very tight knit community. Its so awesome to arrive to do work and be greeted by the local people like one of their own. I love that feeling. At times it makes me feel like I could pack up all this chaos and go live in that small town and run a little retail store and change this faced paced existence. Something so appealing about walking into a bar and having the owner pull a pint and greet you by name and 'usual' brew.

 

Maybe I'll relocate to a smaller town... oh WAIT.. HI... I DO live in a small town... duh! It's just SUCH a subburb of Atlanta that the people are still bitchy and ornery from their 4 hour communte. LOL.... *sigh*

I FINALLY got my new myspace up and running. If you want to subscribe let me know.

 

Cheers.

K

So yesterday in a grandiose effort to be newly labelled 'coolest mom ever' by my kid, we ventured out for a day of errands interlaced with fun. I've discovered that if I alternate errand and fun, my kid will go anywhere with me! One of our 'fun' items was to play at the neighborhood park.

 

Now, I've not been to this park before. I've driven past it countless times and never stopped with Emmie so we decided to try it out. It was actually a pretty cool little park with swings, climbey things, and two seperate play areas; one for younger kids and one for older kids. Emmie, although younger, wanted the older kids playground. I didn't mind this as I could at least get up in the equipment and chase her all around.

 

So we get up to the very top of the play structure and there are these two tublar slides with the bump in the middle. Em is all about sliding down these slides but won't go unless I do because she's a big chicken terd. In the name of being 'coolest mom ever' I couldn't dissapoint!

 

Did you know that those tubular slides are made for kids who are 3 to 4 feet tall and maybe 75 lbs? The diameter of one of those openings BARELY fit my shoulders. BARELY.

 

Did you know that the bump in the slide hides what is going on at the bottom of the slide?

 

Did you know that it rained on Friday night?

 

This is also where I confess I'm not the brightest bulb in the box.

 

In my valiant efforts to be super exciting, I literally DOVE into the tube slide head first, with the intentions of stopping myself and climbing back out after emma had dove into HER slide. I'm thinking you know what happened right about now and are either grimmaceing or laughing.

 

Half way down as I crested the bump in the slide, where I counted on my inertia slowing, my toes slipped from the top of the slide and I couldn't stop myself. Much like a frantic catapillar I wiggled and wiggled in vain to try and stop, and right about then I noticed a reflection on the roof of the tube coming from the bottom. Wide eyed in disbeleif, I slide right on over the bump and ended face first in a big ol nasty pool of sandy water. FACE FIRST.

 

Did you know that Karen + Dirty Water + Cocoon-like tubular slide + Dirty Mulch = a LOT of new and creative cuss words?

 

I just thought you should know that.

 

Oh... and Emmie? Chicken'd out and climbed back down the stairs.

Yesterday when the roomie and I got home there was a note on the front door about the dog.

 

"Please do something about your dog's barking."

 

No name and no real frame of reference. What? Was he barking at your window? Was he barking for 8 hours straight? Was he barking at your kids as they were in your backyard? And really, where are your balls that you can't put our name on a peice of paper so we can talk to you about it. How do I know what to fix if you don't tell me what he's doing in the first place???

 

I actually took it personally that some person living near by us couldn't just come over and knock on the door. I guess Canadians are known for beating more then a hockey puck with their sticks.

 

In total defense I called the Sheriffs office and asked about "noise regulations", specifically a barking dog. 7am - 10pm. Love it! My Barkley can run around in my back yard and bark his head off until 10pm. AWESOME!

 

So then last night the roomie is downstairs at the dog run and discovers that the mexican kids next door have been trying to break Barkley free! There were a set of wire cutters down on the ground right beside his dog run! Grrrr! I think my tax return is building a fence!

 

Here's the skinny people:

 

Dog's bark. Thats what they do. If it's not 3am you don't have a reason to complain. If it's not chewing up your leg, you don't have a reason to complain. If it's not pissing in your garden, you don't have a reason to complain. If it's not stealing your shoes, you don't have a reason to complain. If it's not chasing your cat you don't have a reason to complain. If it's not shitting on your front yard you don't have a reason to complain. HIS JOB IS TO BARK. I WANT HIM TO BARK. BARK BARK BARK and KEEP THE CRIMINALS away. Yeesh. What a concept.

 

Finally, IF IT'S NOT YOUR YARD KEEP YOUR KIDS OUT OF IT. My goodness. That little kid had to be 5 and wandering around like she owned the place. What the hell is that? Who lets their five year old just freely wander like that? GOOD LORD.

 

The day ended like this:

 

My overly brilliant next door neighbor Josh gave us a painting to show around to people we know in hopes of selling his paintings. (Or at lease I think thats why he left it here?) On the back was a written description of his masterpeice. It just so happened that the note left on the front door about the dog matched the writing on the back of the oil painting. SO, I happily wrote Josh a little love note and taped it to the back of his sample and returned it to his door.

 

Moral of the story? If you want to be annonomous, TYPE your fricken letter.

 

Hidden moral of the story? Don't leave crap letters for a chick whos watched 300. LOL.

 

 

For those of you that don't know what "300" refers to get yer butts over to apple.com and watch the movie trailer.

 

For the rest of you... omg what are you waiting for! GO SEE IT!

 

I'm usually a big fan of wild action and violence.. not too sure why because I'm not an overly violent person... but my GOD the gore in this movie is tuly over the top! ... WHO CARES!

 

Men.. you just skip down to the next paragraph now. Ladies... this is for you... I HAVE NEVER EVER IN MY ENTIRE LIFE SEEN SO MANY HALF NAKED MEN WITH RIPPED ABS. I can just imagine the casting call for this movie: "Wanted- 500 men with well toned hairless bodies and washboard abs. Acting skill not necessary but ability to growl and look menacing a must." There's one scene in the movie that is the womans equivalent to the running Tomb Raider scene, where these finely toned men of Sparta come roaring up over a hillside and all you can see is flowing capes, flashing spear points and ripple after ripple of tanned hard lean muscle. Thats worth sitting through the blood and gore ... trust me...  

 

Women... seriously skip this paragraph and continue below. Men... the above paragraph was really intended to help you get your women to the movie in the first place. Yeah yeah theres rock hard abs but don't feel inssecure or underrated because of it. There's pleanty of fake boobs, hot sex scenes and scantily clad women to make your woman feel a tad shifty in her seat. The good news for women (who are reading this anyway because they are women) is the most of the boobs are fake... Meh.. you've seen it all before but we all know you're not watching this movie because of the fake boobage.

 

Now, the movie is a great tale about the Persians and self proclaimed God-king Xerxes vs. the Spartans and let me tell you, I am SO glad I was not a Spartan woman because HOLY CRAP. They sure look beautiful but one false move and *snap* you're dead! No wonder the men in Sparta looked like they did because they needed to keep them in line SOMEHOW! (ok the first jack ass to make a comment ... any comment... about women today, gets it!)

 

In summary, the Persians send some messanger to the king of the Spartans and basically delivers an ultimatum. Persians huge army obliterates the Spartans or the Spartans kneel and live. You can imagine that King Leonidus (I probably spelled that wrong) didn't take that too well and voila.. a war. Its way more complex but I don't want to give it all way.

 

The scenery (Mostly CGI) was fantastic, the color pallate really makes it feel like you're watching a fable unfold, the actor that played King Leonidus was brilliant and strong in his role, and the movie didn't waste time. It was about the battle... they set it up, went in, kicked some ass, and ended it where they should have. It leaves you wanting more more more!!

 

So, go see it. Really, even if you think to yourself, yuck! Go see it. It's surprisingly great and worth the two hours of your life.

 

.....

 

 

..

 

 

 

 

 

...........

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

............

 

 

 

 

mmMmmm... washboard abs... mmm... :P

 

 

 

Normally when I drop my girl off at her daycare, it's around 6:30-7:30am and theres nobody there. I've started to notice, however that when I am later then usual and hit the daycare around 8am, there is a little gaggle of women that flock around the front desk. Usually when I encounter them I steer way clear of them. Every man (and most women) will tell you that a flock of yapping women gathered in hushed tones is usually trouble.

 

In my usual manner I flew into kids and breezed past the gaggle full well knowing that they were eyeballing Em and I. They always do. It's what bored upper class housewives do. What am I wearing... what is SHE wearing.. what did we drive... and they when you're out of earshot they yammer.

 

So today I stopped in the hallway looking at the scholastic book fair and the gaggle migrated towards me. Feeling slightly uncomfortable I grabbed the first book I saw and pretended to flip through it. It didn't work. This one betty-crocker mom floated over and proceeded to introduce herself.

 

"Hi I'm Lance's mom Gail."

"Hi Gail I'm Karen, Emma's mom."  (It's kinda funny how moms talk about other moms via reference to their children!)

"Well we see you sometimes but nobody really knows who you are. I thought i'd say hi."

 

Usually this is where I go, nice to meet you see ya around and exit. For some retarded reason I didn't. I suffered through the introduction of all the other moms and stood there feeling out of place in a huge way. You see, they were all dressed nicely, matching shoes and bags, hair all done, and here I am sick with strep throat, wearing baggy jeans and a sweater and my hair in a ponytail with no make up. Wonderful. I can just imagine how that was going to blow over when I left.  Actually I was replaying it in my head when this other mom walked by and one of the flock hissed "Ohhh its a hot mom!"

 

Hot mom. Is that a code word? Is she stolen? Mom on the run? HUH???

 

So in total stupidity, I asked this Gail woman what the hell a 'hot mom' meant referenceing their usage of it."

She explained that their little group calls the really pretty moms that come in the "hot moms" because their husbands talk about them. Apparently one of their husbands joked around in the presence of these women that this daycare had "hot moms". Thus their little inside joke is to call these pretty ladies "HOT MOMS".

 

Ladies and gentlemen. This is what bored, well-to-do housewives in Georgia do with their time. They gossip, the create drama and they live in their own little world of reality where all that matter is opinions and social status. 

 

Not my style. I made up some lame excuse, tugged my jeans up as they were starting to fall a little by this point, tucked a loose strand of unwashed hair that had emma gooies in it around my ear, grabbed my black Target special purse, spun around on my rubber Walmart flippies,  and proceeded to head to the Chev.

 

I felt like I was stuck on an episode on Deperate Housewives. Yeesh.

 

 

I'm sitting in my computer chair practically making love to this bowl of ice cream in hopes it will freeze my throat to the point where I can think straight again. Sadly, it looks like another bout of my favorite sickness: Strep Throat.

 

Someone please get in their car/truck/sport utility and drive/walk/run/skip/jump over here and beat me to death ok? I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy that more then another bout of strep.

 

Whopee.

 

 

 

 

Well since I'm dry on Blog ideas and feeling rather uninspired, I thought I'd just vent a little and do a good old fashioned bitchfest. Of course I'm not normally that bitchy (quiet mother, I heard you choke on your granola bar) I thought it would be ok to let it out... just this one time... this week... :)

 

So I'm driving down the 400, and its bumper to freaking bumper at exit 12. (My GOD can someone PLEASE open that empty, barren, unused thrid lane already? I mean it's only houseing loungeing work crews and the rest of us that actually have somewhere to be are paying the price here!!!!) I look over beside me just in time to notice this red minivan almost veer into me in my own lane. So I offer the driver, a killer evil glare that can't really be seen from behind the tinted side window, only to notice shes got her earphones in and is watching her video ipod that is loving nestled into the center of her steering wheel. Uh... HELLO... some of us are DRIVING here! Isn't that what you DO on an interstate? DRIVE? See this makes me mad and somewhat evil inside. I want to cut infront of her and slam on my breaks. It's not that I really enjoy being slammed into from behind (*snicker*... *cough*.... OK! bite your tongues and get your heads out of the gutters people!!) but rather I want to scare her so bad she won't do it again! These are SO the kind of people that hit children and blame it on parents not watching what their kids are doing. Grrrrr...

 

I'm wearing a white blouse today. Of course that means that anything that can and will stick/stain/snag it will in fact do so within the first 5 minutes of arriving at work. It's 12:10pm now so that means that so far I've encountered coffee, pasta sauce and water. Naturally the water has to splash moments before a product rep shows up. The rep just has to be a male and we just happen to be meeting over the conference table. The water just happens to be on my chest area. Hmmm... water+white blouse+chest+male product rep = GLARING STARE @ THE TWINS. I'm sorry. If I wanted a man to stare at my twins I'd drop 40 lbs, have a boob job to "K" size and star in a porn movie that would come back and haunt me in 5 years when I finally make it on American Idol. They're boobs ok? Every woman has a set, and every woman would like you men to maintain EYE contact with us when conducting business OK? Thank God I was wearing a nice white bra that showed absolutely nothing through it. Sure justified stareing at my chest on and off for that whole 45 minutes didn't it. Sicko.

 

OK I have to end on a high happy positive note.

 

Dear Ladies.

 

If you are living below the mason dixon line (and YES I FINALLY know whtat that means! God bless Canadians in America!!)

It is time for that long onverdue relaxing pedicure because it is almost flip-flop season and by God there are some sexy shoes out there! I am SO excited to overhaul my shoe closet again because just this morning I spent 20 minutes of hard working office time to browse the lates flip flop styles coming out and YIPPEEE!!! I'm so excited!

 

Sad isn't it that flip flops can get me so darn excited! It's all to do with not wearing socks and nothing to do with fasion to be honest. I just use fashion to cover my desire to run barefoot year round.

 

God bless you mister flip flop.... God bless you.

 

PS- For my Georgia readers...

 

Why is Alpharetta an exciting place to live?

 

 

..

 

 

 

........

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

....................

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because it's so close to Cumming... hehehehehhee!!!

 

 

Waaaaaay back when I was a young internet presence, I had a wonderful little secret sharing spot called Smirks. It was my own web group based on one principle that I've always held dear and still do to this day: Forgiveness.

I used to have this singular loyal reader who made me feel so great when I read her comments and posts. She was always about sisterhood, love, forgiveness, mostly the good and gracious side of life. (Even if she was a closet super sexy flirty hot mamma!)

Deep inside all these posts you read about there is the core of me that holds dear to that one principle in life so in honor of Warmheart, this posts for you :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Very recently I learned a valuable lesson. It was the lesson that I used to preach from high atop my many rung ladder. It was the lesson that I helped others achieve. It was the core value of me then, and I had forgotten about its power until just this very day.

Forgiveness.

Say it with me. FOR-GIVE-NESS

It's not hard to say. It's just hard to do.

I am a sinner. So are you. We spend so much of our lives talking to other people about someone else's sins in hopes that it makes our own sound more acceptable, and we forget that we need to confess our own sins to the very people we sinned against in hopes of getting forgiveness. Sometimes this takes a few days.... sometimes it takes months... sometimes it takes YEARS.

I was married many moons ago to my highschool sweetheart. He was, I believe, a good man at the core. I don't believe that he ever really meant to hurt me like he did, nor do I believe that he intended to scare me like he did... but he did. It took me two years to tell him that I forgave him for his part in things. It took me that same amount of time to forgive myself for my role in things. I slept SO well the night I was finally able to breathe out the last of my guilt. He has never offered those same words to me.

I was remarried to a man I fell deeply in love with. He had this way of making me forget about the outside world like no other man on the planet could. We conceived a child and she was born out of love and happiness. She is a walking testament that great things happen to good hearted people. Something happened to him and I though that tore us apart. Today, I realized that without him really saying the words, that he has forgiven me for the hurt our fall caused him.

I have been living up until today in hurt... guilt... sorrow... fear.... that deep down inside I had wrecked a life. That I had caused a deeper hurt then I thought possible. It is relief to know that is not the case. Don't get me wrong, things are not beds of roses and rays of sunshine but they are healing and growing again and we are able to move forward through friendship and partnership in raising our child. That level of forgiveness amongst broken couples is so rare.

It has been a long time since I have written about the good forgiveness can do. It's like the weight of the world lifts from your shoulders... like the densest sea fog is blown away and the sun settles in... the heart is free of its bindings and the mind is no longer tired from fighting.

In order to forgive like that you have to stare the situation in the eyes and come to this understanding that its ok to mess up. That it's ok to realise that you are not perfect. That life moves forward and you can still stand tall wearing your troubles. Sure people will judge you but at the end of the day, the real judgement that truly matters is your own. (Well and God's of course!... don't need to be struck by lightening)

I really hope that someone else out there that is broken and hurting manages to understand how to heal their own hurt. I hope we can all grow to comprehend how healing forgiveness can be.

Thank you warmheart for posting a comment yesterday and reminding me of the past and your wonderful self.

 xoxo

Karen

 

Dahlings! Someone is googleing my blog.... a little sneeky closet reader.... who are you???

 

I can only imagine... the crazed Ex Husband.... the crazed ex boyfriend for that matter.... my long lost twin sister... oh God I can just imagine life with a twin... *shudder*

 

OK spill it... who are you... I'll let you peek for a few more days in hopes you come forward before I make this blog private so you can't spy on me anymore....

 

 

Today as I stood in the always too small and increasingly distrubing elevator of my work dwelling, I noticed a faint odor coming from the right half of the elevator. Of course there was just one other girl and I in the elevator so I have to make assumptions that she was the source! Right about the time the smell started to waif my way, I glanced at her and caught that nervous little face that all closet farters make. The "omg i wonder if they know it was me" face.

 

The eyes shift.

 

Nobody looks you in the eye.

 

The quick glances at the elevator floor lights in eager anticipation of arrival.

 

The sudden gleeful leap off the elevator and subtle gulp of fresh (recycled) air!!

 

Ahhhh the closet farter.

 

I love closet farters. I love them more when I'm not subject to their unique form of expression. I bet they have a secret forum like www.reekorama.com or www.fartersannonymous.com or even better yet... www.secretfartworld.com. Somewhere a whole whack of them gather in shadowy places and revel in each others gleeful farteriffic expressions. I bet they share trade secrets like "how to time your fart so you dish it and don't smell it"... and "how to let er rip just as the band starts up so you aren't heard"... and "what to do if you're caught; one word: deny deny deny..." Like a bad "american pie" revival I'm sure we'd overhear...

 

"This one time, at church service, not even God himself could save them from the silent wave that was last nights chinese food. I am surely going to hell for that one."

 

I am willing to bet that Frodo Baggins himself was a member. How do I know? Because as one of my favorite people once commented... "he has that 'got caught farting in church' look"... actually after writing that I sould comment that he's certainly a FORMER member.

 

Regardless, memorize that look. That will be the only thing that saves you from being a victim.

 

For all you closet farters, I have one really wonderful word that the rest of us have memorized and subscribe to. "BEAN-O"

 

It's your friend.

 

Use it.

 

 

 

I am panic.

 

There is too much going on and I feel so Panic.

 

I blink and its over.

I cry and its gone.

I wash and the stain is still there.

 

Sometimes fresh starts aren’t fresh enough. Sometimes you just want to stretch your arms and feel so free… so so free.

 

My daughter is so wonderful. My job is so great. My personal life is a disaster but it seems that in order to have everything wonderful in one area, it all falls apart in the other area.

 

Some things in it are so fantastic. Other things in it are so tiresome… like dragging my feet through mud.

Like screaming under water.

Like running in dense fog.

 

I win, I lose. I blink, I lose. I lose. I Panic.

 

I am Panic.

30 Seconds to Mars - The Kill

 

What if I wanted to break
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do?
What if I fell to the floor
Couldn't take all this anymore
What would you do, do, do?

Come, break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you

What if I wanted to fight
Beg for the rest of my life
What would you do?
You say you wanted more
What are you waiting for
I'm not running from you

Come, break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you
Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

I tried to be someone else
But note I really am inside
FINALLY FOUND MYSELF
FIGHTING FOR A CHANCE
I know now, this is who I really am

Come, break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you, you, you
Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you
Come, break me down (bury me, bury me)
Break me down (bury me, bury me)
Break me down (bury me, bury me)

What if I wanted to break...?
What if I, what if I, what if I...

 

 

My dog has taught my child wonderful things.

 

When they were first introduced, my dog ran my daughter over without a second thought. It was comedic to watch as this big, clumsy baby in his own right, grew large innocent eyes and went right over her in sheer excitement. Poor Emma screamed blue murder and gave Barkley the evil "bad dog" finger. Of course Barkely is not only sweet in his puppy like innocence, but in his desire to please everyone and everything, drowned her in "I Love You" kisses that did not produce happy sounds from her.

 

One of the things my dog has taught my daughter is the humor of poo. This has the potential to be very bad.

 

Until Barkley's dog run was built, he had the delightful pleasure of living life as the king of dog's perched above them all on our back deck. This deck sits 1.5 stories in the sky and you can see all the neighboring houses and their little dog's in the back yard of said houses, for miles around. Barkley, not only settled in by eating the liners out of my planting boxes, but also by being the king watchdog. If anything so much as rustled the slightest bit, he let us know. God curse the little overly-fertile bastard of a squirrel that populates the wooded lot next door.

 

Of course existing on the back deck, Barkley also managed to present us with piles of treats.

 

Emma, in her pure innocent little girl ways, tends to get very excited about Barkley's pile of treats.

 

"MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY!!!! BARKLEY MADE BIG HUGE POOS ON THE DECK!"

 

"Ewwwwwwwww stinky poo on the porch!"

 

"Barkely bad poopy puppy!"

 

And my personal favorite:

 

"I can't want to go on the deck coz Barkely makes big giant large huge poopies and I can't want to step on them" <In a VERY matter of fact tone don't you know.>

 

Since Barkley's move down to the dog run, we've scrubbed the back deck off to squeeky clean status, but I kinda miss firing clumps of dog crap at Bry as he runs around below on the lawn.

 

Hehehehe...

 

 

This month marks the second anniversary of Oliva's passing. For those that do not know the story, please take two minutes and read it. It's amazing what one child;s death can do to you, and how it can change your life.

 

Olivia Hope Arthurs was born with Down's Syndrome and a malfunctioning heart. Her parents named her Olivia Hope in hope that she would live. She was born at a severe disadvantage from the get-go with only 4 little pounds to her name, but my goodness she was Heather reincarnated! She was so spunky and full of life and spirit! When the nurses would take her blood she'd get all cranky and give these little forceful grunts.

 

I remember one time I visited her at the Stollery and she had a new roomate. I glanced over at the baby and before I culd speak Heather dug her nails into my arms and whispered "Whatever you do, don't call her precious!" I was sort of confused. Who wouldn't want their sweet little baby called "precious" by another woman? I mean what mom doesn't love strangers telling her how adorable her baby is? Well it turned out that this woman named her baby Precious Strawberry and would fly off the handle at anyone who mocked her name, if they new or not! I witnessed it first hand!! (Did you know some moms can be ferocious?)

 

Olivia was often shuffled between hospitals, the Stollery and the Children's in Calgary. At least once every two weeks the doctors would call Heather and Dave and tell them Olivia wasn't going to survive the night, whereupon they would camp out at the hospital and we would all pray from our homes. She alwas made it though, tougher and angrier then ever.

 

Poor little Olivia eventually gained enough weight to have her heart surgery. The doctor's were convinced that if she just made it through her heart surgery she would make it through and be abel to go home. Her heart surgery was in December of 2003 in Edmonton and she was touch and go for a few weeks, but eventually pulled through. My god did we breathe a sigh of relief.

 

Finally, in late January Olivia was sent home with the doctor's blessings. They felt she was strong enough to make it and as long as she had a nurse visit evry other day, she was able to sleep in her crib, and walk in her stroller. Heather was over the moon and was sooooo thankful to be able to have her baby home like a normal mom.

 

It was also this time that Heather found out that she was pregnant again.

 

Early February, I was sitting at home rocking Emma after her morning bottle when the phone rang. I was a little caught off guard because it was 7:30 in the morning. When I heard Heathers strained voice I knew something was wrong.

 

"Karen, she's gone. My Olivia is gone."

 

My heart stopped. The day before the call, Olivia had been at home with Heather. The nurse had come and checked over Olivia and mentioned that she looked a little tired. Later that afternoon Heather had noticed that Olivia was looking really gray so she called Dave and sped off to the hospital. They were told that Olivia had gotten an infection and that she wasn't going to make it through the night. Dave and Heather wrapped up Olivia, and rocked her together into God's Kingdom.

 

Today Heather and Dave have their beautiful Ella and are trying for #3. Life is good for them and while the memory is always there, it's never sad. We were all blessed to know Olivia. We are all stronger for kowing her story.

 

Enjoy heaven little Livvy. We all miss you and think of you daily. I'll never forget how beautiful you were while I was rocking you to sleep. I'll always keep your little ladybug in my heart.

 

Glory Baby by Watermark

 

Miss you everyday
Miss you in every way
But we know there’s a
day when we will hold you
We will hold you
You’ll kiss our tears away
When we’re home to stay
Can’t wait for the day when we will see you
We will see you
But baby let sweet Jesus hold you
‘till mom and dad can hold you…
You’ll just have heaven before we do
You’ll just have heaven before we do

Sweet little babies, it’s hard to
understand it ‘cause we’re hurting
We are hurting
But there is healing
And we know we’re stronger people through the growing
And in knowing-
That all things work together for our good
And God works His purposes just like He said He would…
Just like He said He would…

I can’t imagine heaven’s lullabies
and what they must sound like
But I will rest in knowing, heaven is your home
And it’s all you’ll ever know…all you’ll ever know…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 B. I vow to save more.

 

This resolution is detined to failure unless it follows with "after I pay off my credit cards and survive the January sales."

 

This reolution is destined to fail if you have children as the moment you utter those words their clothes are magically too small, too dated and too torn up to survive even one more month.

 

This resolution is destined to fail if you own a house. No sooner are the woords uddered, the appliances get together one night and draw straws to see who is going to break down when and in what order. Always remember the mose expensive one goes after all the other ones when you are the most broke.

 

This resolution is destined to fail if you own a vehicle. While loading your broken dryer into your truck you will back over the kids bike, puncture your tire and bend something in the suspension causing you to curse in six languages and max out the visa.

 

This resolution is destined to fail if you own a pet of any kind. Your dog/cat/rabbit/whatever will lick every door knob in the house, contract some fatal-unless-vet-treated disease and cause you to wish it was that animal under your truck tire and not your childs bike.

 

At least the good news is that ypically all of this stuff happens at the same time so you really only suffer one large stroke! 

 

A. Weight Loss

 

99% of you vowed to trim down I'm willing to bet. Why not! After all that is a fairly noble endeavor! It's easy to commit to the gym and some nutty excersize regeim until about Valentines Day. Thats when you either go out for a fattening meal, or engorge yourself on fattening food because you're single and feeling a little blue. Thats ok though! The Easter season keeps you on your toes with all that family broo-ha-ha so you can afford a chocolate nibble or fast alcoholic bevvy here and there because coordinateing Easter dinner is not only stressful but time consumeing. Time to cut the gym trips down to 4 days a week!

Of course the Easter Bunny brought enough chocolate to sink the Titanic which means there's no longer time to squeeze into that bikini with the summer season only a month away. Might as well cut the gym back to 3 days a week and regain some life. Guys are hotter at the bar then the beach anyway right? Its easier to hide flabby thighs in jeans then a spandex torture device.

About June you change your mind about the beach and go there anyway whereupon you notice that you feel rather out of place amongst all of the 20 somethings hard bodies and suddenly that tiki bar with the swim up service is perfect. The water that you had enough courage to get into hides the thighs so you can drink enough to get the courage to get back OUT of the water. YIPEE!

After that depressing trip to the beach you spend 2 days at the gym half heartedly trying, and three days wallowing in self pity hidden in the back yard reading harlequin romances. Thank god for long jean cut offs and tank tops. Lord help you if the neighbor peeks over the fence! By September the reality that the Christmas season is fast approaching and you need to look great for that Christmas party is suddenly a great inspiration to get back in the gym! You beef up the gym visits to 4 times a week and slam head long into Halloween. Whats a chocolate here and there right? You ARE going to the gym after all! Then the hussy down the street slinks by in her cheerleader uniform that she wore way back in highschool and you're shoving every snickers bar from here to New York down your yap. Its ok. Thanksgiving is right around the corner and you'll just wear some bulky sweaters and sweatpants to dinner. Too bad everyone else there made the same New Years resolution that you did, only they stuck to it. So not only are you feeling dumpy and miserable, but you have to listen to them compliment each other on how good they look. At least there's pumpkin pie.

Ahhh Christmas. We meet again evil Christmas season and your tempting shortbread cookies and eggnogg/rum concoctions. it's ok to stuff your pie hole because everyone else is and who cares! It's Christmas! You can dress like Santa and noone will EVER know whats really under there!!

 

Thank god New Years is only a week away because next year... you'll be a Barbie by May! 

 

 

 

OhHh I think my head has finally recovered but Alkeehawl makes me nautious. Heres how the week went:

 

Monday:

 

I arrived in Vegas, feeling chipper, lucky and excited! I stayed at the Venetian which is tremendously outragous on every scale. Ladies, my room had a 200 sq. ft. marble bathroom. Then I hit the Casino floor. Enter the roulette table. Ohhhh spinning wheel of misfortune how I have grown to despise thee to no bitter end. Take your tantalizing ball and shove it. Drowned my sorrows with two sour apple martinis. Score.

 

Tuesday:

 

Conference day was fun, lots of great people and the food was fantastic! I managed to connect with Dione (a lady I met at the conference website) who managed to entice me with a trip to the Tao for some drinks. Enter the cosmopolitan. OhhHHh pretty cosmo with your slushie sweetness, how you caused me great pains for an entire following day. Take your sumptous cherry treat and choke!

 

Wednesday:

 

I'm in pain. The conference came too soon after my 5am bedtime. Everyones talking loud and the slides for the presentations are blurry. I can't open my eyes fully and I am desperate for coffee. Screw it. I skipped the last afternoon class and had a nap. Awesome! A few great rounds at the slots and I'm redy for the Industry reception night at the Jet nightclub in the Mirage. Enter the FREE Sour Apple Martini. OhhHhhHH Sour Apple Martini all green and lemonade on the pallatte, how you made me dance to tainted love and walk through the casino in socks. Take that plastic sword and die.

 

Thursday:

 

Greeted by floating memories of the previous night, and conversation to the tune of someone having to meet me in the casino and help me walk off some drunken stupor, my head is beating to the faint tune of tainted love and no amount of cover up is hiding this hangover. My coworker, waiting in the hallway, can't stand straight and together we crawl to our conference and hang our heads in silent resolve to never touch alkeehawl evvvver again. In an effort to avoid duplication of the previous nights events, my roomie and I ditch the blue man group and take in Cirque du Soleil. Thank god I ditched my afternoon of classes for a nap or I would never have been able to focus on the show. Enter Treasure Island smokey casino floor. OooOOO Treasure Island with your tempting $5 limit tables and 90% nude serving girls, how I hate that you made my throat itchy, scratchy and caused my to almost lose my voice in your cigar laden casino floor. I hope someone renovates you soon. Poor ba$tard.

 

Friday:

 

The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and room service delivers a FANTASTIC breakfast. yum! Life without alkeehawl is grand! We walked from the Venetian, and toured most of the hotels south along the strip. Cesars Palace (impressive!) Alladin (Hokey) Flamingo (didn't go in) New York New York (Staying there next time!) Luxor (Coooool!!) Excalibur (Old... and creepy... but not as bad as Treasure Island which is yucky!) and had lunch at the Paris ($$$$$$ but worth it!!) Shopped, ate, talked, laughed, almost got killed in traffic and topped it all off with Phantom of the Opera (Killler!!!!). Dinner after the Phantom was a blast until.... Sour Apple Martini arrived. Damn Sour Apple Martini with your pretty little glass and fun color. I hope I never see you again. 

 

Saturday... well lets just say I'm home and I've never been happier to be here.

 

I'll post pictures tomorrow!