<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180</id><updated>2011-08-02T19:33:50.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Journey Blessings</title><subtitle type='html'>A girls way of remembering her life just in case the hot pink scooter days take her memory.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-6315666415420222987</id><published>2011-05-06T08:26:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T09:32:54.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dance is Done</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OvQZGDLX6P4/TcP2jLjzkoI/AAAAAAAAABI/VqgFZN-o_60/s1600/IMG_6604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603593445637853826" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OvQZGDLX6P4/TcP2jLjzkoI/AAAAAAAAABI/VqgFZN-o_60/s320/IMG_6604.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a a Fantastic Friday! Unfortunately, the weather here is a little gloomy, but my mood isn't. This is always a crazy busy time for us, with dance rehearsals, recitals, graduation, end of school activities, you know the bit. We never seem to slow down until the middle of June, and it always seems so great when it arrives. I try to pretend that I hate this busy month, but secretly I love it. Why? Probably, because it revolves around my two girls. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow is Mabrees dance recital. Its always exciting and crazy. Mabree is good at everything she does, including dance. I'm not just saying that because she's my daughter. God has truly blessed her with a number of talents. It amazes me how quickly she can learn a routine. Mabree has decided that this is her last year of dance. We left the decision up to her whether she would continue to dance or pursue sports. She chose sports after finishing up this season. Its bittersweet to me. I've watched her every year advance to harder classes with no hesitance. Shes done it for so long, I was really surprised at her choice, but not disappointed. I've always taught her not to be afraid to try new things. I think thats how you grow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nine years ago, she was so tiny going into class for her first time. Just 3 years old at the time, her little pink leotard and tights were so cute....of course we took a gazillion pictures of her. I had so frantically made sure she had a cute dance bag, a few dance outfits, shoes. I didnt know if she would enjoy it or if it would be a fight every week to get her there. The first night, I was a little nervous not knowing what her reaction would be, but we opened the door and in she went. No hesitation, no clinging to mommys hand, no goodbye....We watched through the windows, I expected a nervous, shy, crying child to be looking back for me, but nothing. She was focused on her teacher and the mirror. I have to admit that I was kinda disappointed that she didnt search for me, but I was too excited watching her, that my disappointment soon faded. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Each week, we stood proudly watching her through the windows. She was learning the routine so quickly. In December, they were to ride in the Christmas parade. It was quite chilly, so we dressed her in warm clothes and mittens. As she passed by the crowd, she waved so sweetly to everyone. She was beaming with happiness, and so were we. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In May, dance recital time comes around. It usually falls on or around Mabrees birthday. This year will be her last. Yesterday as I drove her to rehearsal, she couldnt stop talking about it. I cant believe this is my last year she would say. I would reply back that it was still her choice and that we would support whatever decision she made. She just shook her head. She continued talking about how she was going to miss her dance friends, she had known them for so long, and wanted to come visit and maybe see next years recital. I just sat listening. I had no idea that she was taking it this hard. It was very difficult to listen to her, because I was in awe that she was expressing herself to me. Even as we sat down to eat dinner with my mom, before rehearsals started, she brought it up to her. Talking up a storm. I think even my mom was a little taken back by her conversation. Mabree never talks this much, maybe she feels overshadowed by her little sister, or maybe she just needed to express how much of a loss this really was in her life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never in a million years would have guessed that she would quit dance. I thought we would be doing this for the rest of her teenage years. But I am so proud that she has chosen to try something new, and confidently, not hesitantly. Mabree will probably struggle a little bit when dance season starts again in the fall, and whatever she chooses, we will stand behind her in support. It seems like such a small decision as an adult, but in her eyes, this is life changing. The thing thats shes done every week since she was 3, will be a thing of the past. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-6315666415420222987?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/6315666415420222987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2011/05/dance-is-done.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/6315666415420222987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/6315666415420222987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2011/05/dance-is-done.html' title='The Dance is Done'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OvQZGDLX6P4/TcP2jLjzkoI/AAAAAAAAABI/VqgFZN-o_60/s72-c/IMG_6604.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-1140352860006029122</id><published>2011-05-05T11:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T12:29:23.751-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My BIG Little Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uhvXX15Ju-U/TcLALNsYwxI/AAAAAAAAABA/a9DKgUlsuSo/s1600/IMG_6541.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603252185289245458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uhvXX15Ju-U/TcLALNsYwxI/AAAAAAAAABA/a9DKgUlsuSo/s320/IMG_6541.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I've decided since its Mabree's birthday week, I'm going to make it all about her. She turned a whopping 12 on Tuesday. Usually we make a big deal about birthday dinners, but not this year. She just wanted a simple dinner at home. Its not the first change I've seen in her lately,and I'm sure its only the beginning of a number of changes I will be seeing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mabree is the type of child that everybody likes. She is sweet (to most people), very laid back. Her dad and I always joke with her that she is on "Island time". She never rushes to do anything, just kinda eventually gets it done. I think shes a perfect mix of her dad and myself. She gets her laid back attitude from her dad, and her craziness from me. She never ceases to amaze me. Just when I least expect it, she does something that catches my heart. On her birthday, she went to leave to go to her dads, and forgot to give me a kiss and hug. It only took her a few seconds to realize but when she came back in, it wasnt the usual half hug and kinda kiss. It was a tight, like you mean it hug with an extra long kiss...I have to admit, it made my heart skip a beat. I don't get those too often, and I know that eventually I may not get them at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know there will come a time, when her friends are hurrying her out the door, or her boyfriend is waiting at the movies, that she may not even say goodbye. I know that she is not my little girl anymore. Our conversations aren't about the stuffed animals shes sleeping with tonight, or the newest toy out in the store. My mind can't seem to wrap around the idea thats shes not 6. I want to cherish every minute I can get with her. I can see the days slipping by, and before I realize it, they will be gone. Some days I sit and watch my daughters in the yard playing, and I think...Mabree will be driving in 4 more years, and leaving for college in 2 years after that. I m not ready for any of it and I m probably not going without a fight. I m scared that she will want to go to the other end of the earth for school, and that I wont get to see her but twice a year. I m scared that she wont make good choices, and that I ll get a 2am tearful phone call, of which I can do nothing about. I guess thats where my faith is lacking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can remember doing everything for her, but now she wants to do it herself. She used to want to go places with me...now I m gradually heading to the backseat, and thats okay with me. I look back at pictures, and wonder if she would have been a different child had her dad and I not divorced. Would she have been so inverted? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know God is holding her hand, even when she wont let me. That is comforting to me. I m glad Hes holding my hand too. I know that God has her life planned out for her despite what my plans may be. I pray that when the day comes, she allows God to lead her on a path that glorifies Him. I pray that I will never hold her back from doing what her heart desires. I pray that I can be a positive Christian role model for her on the days that she left her faith in her other purse. I know my prayers wont go unanswered, but they may not be answered the way I think they should be. I pray that she will be happy and always a fruit of the spirit, even in her weakest and most vulnerable moments. I would love to pray that she stay little for a lifetime, but that would be a selfish prayer, and would never be blessed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am her biggest fan, even though there are times she may not see me in the bleachers. I am her sounding board, even if she has pressed the mute button. I am her defender, even if I show up without armor. I am her protector, even if she doesnt see the net down below. .......and God? God is supervising, to make sure I dont mess it up...and if I do....He makes sure I know it. With God in her heart, she may stumble, but she will never fall.............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-1140352860006029122?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/1140352860006029122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-big-little-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/1140352860006029122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/1140352860006029122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-big-little-girl.html' title='My BIG Little Girl'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uhvXX15Ju-U/TcLALNsYwxI/AAAAAAAAABA/a9DKgUlsuSo/s72-c/IMG_6541.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-7361034050877415046</id><published>2011-05-04T13:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T14:16:55.701-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Twelve Going On.......... Grown</title><content type='html'>Yes I know, I know, its been WAYYYY too long since I last blogged. I had hoped to be a more consistent blogger, but as with anything else in my life, it seems to take a back seat to.......well life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have recently discovered a 12 year old stranger living in my house. Her name is Mabree. Mabree....Mabree....why does that name sound familiar? Oh yeah! I conceived her, birthed her, changed her diapers, fed her, you know the usual. She has become somewhat of a mystery to me....and I mean that in the kindest most loving words ever. In one week, she went from a little girl who didnt mind dressing in front of me, or taking a shower while I was in the bathroom to OH MY GOSH MOM can I get some privacy?!?! Huh? Really? I just couldn't have imagined that in one weeks time my daughter would become a young lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try really hard to think back to when I was 12. Oh so long ago, different time and place. At 12, I was boy crazy, with my first real boyfriend, we were going out. I remember my mom saying going out? Where do you think you are going out to? Of course she couldnt possibly understand what going out meant....jeez the nerve of her, right? Now I look at my daughter, and see how very different she is now than I was. She could care less about boys.....I think. She's very into clothes and her appearance (which I must say just came out of the blue), friends, going places....socializing. We are very strict and dont really think she needs a social calendar quite yet. I am trying so hard to hold on to the little girl who loved to play with dolls, and polly pockets, and littliest pet shop...but its fading very fast.&lt;br /&gt;I called my mom recently for some moral support, but all I got was laughter coming through the phone.....the reason you ask? Because supposedly, (its all hearsay)I am now getting a dose of what I dished out to her, and somehow my mother finds that quite entertaining. I described Mabrees reaction to "The Talk" (you know the one) as a deer in headlights, only to have my mother respond...."whos the deer in the headlights now" as she chuckled.....although eventually after much laughter, she did give some good grounded advice....Keep the line of communication open, but be realistic about my expectations of what she will actually tell me. I dont want to be realistic, I want to know everything! Mabree is one of those inverted personalities too. Doesnt get too excited, never know how shes really feeling, unless its anger. She expresses that with nooooooo problem. Just ask any door in the house....&lt;br /&gt;Something popped into my head a few days ago, and I wrote it down. "I pray God gives me the words I need when my daughter has her first broken heart over a boy who didnt deserve her." Now I pray that she will tell me when she starts liking boys. Mabree says she doesnt tell me things because I m too emotional about everything, and that I cry about EVERYTHING! I dont cry about everything....not everything...!! I love my girls, and anything they do makes me emotional....I cried at Mabrees first volleyball game. I cry at every dance recital and school program, oh and when she sings in church, solo or group, or when she has done or said something so sweet....yeah shes right... I cry about everything....hahaha&lt;br /&gt;I think my only alternative is to go with the flow. Very difficult to do when you're a control freak like myself. If I have any chance at all, I ll have to cry privately, and just be a sounding board for her.....ever so gently offering advice when solicited. Ya'll just pray for me....I need all I can get....and is it medically possible to remove tear ducts????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-7361034050877415046?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/7361034050877415046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2011/05/twelve-going-on-grown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/7361034050877415046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/7361034050877415046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2011/05/twelve-going-on-grown.html' title='Twelve Going On.......... Grown'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-6860365274031161108</id><published>2010-04-29T11:18:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T11:58:48.604-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fill 'er up</title><content type='html'>I just said to a friend this past week that I have found myself quite busy...in fact....too busy for God.  I knew it already, but just saying it aloud made it real. I have not had God on my brain or my heart except to say, I'll talk to ya later, gotta get this done right now, but never to return.  My soul was feeling it too.  I had become lost, and empty.  Oh, my convictions were beaming, it was obvious to me, but I would continue to push them over as I would anything else that I felt was in my way.  It would always show up, as if to remind me that it was there and I needed to deal with it, but still I continued ignoring it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then last night as if it were a Marquis sign, a message was given to me, and quite frankly I felt that it was directly to me.  How can the spirit of God grow if you are only feeding the flesh?  A great illustration was used with a red balloon (our spirit)inside of a white one (our flesh).  Different sizes of the red balloon represented our spirit being fed.  At one point, you could barely see the red balloon at all. It was very small compared to the white one, and it continued to grow as it was fed until there was really only a white covering over a fully inflated red balloon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was me, not the fully inflated red balloon, but the barely filled red balloon, and I had allowed it.  I had made a choice that what was going on in my life was more important than what was going on in my soul.  Sure alot of it was Church based activities, but sometimes we can get so wrapped up in what we are doing, that we forget why we are doing it.  I havent picked up my Bible in weeks except to reference something, or in Church.  What had I done that was so important that I put Gods word down?  My answer.......nothing...absolutely nothing.  If I was able to pencil in every other appointment, activity, and event in my planner maybe I should use a permanent marker to add God.  A permanent marker can't be erased, or scribbled out, and neither can God.  He is always here for us, whether we choose to accept his grace, so really there is no need to schedule Him in, He is already there.  I have learned a hard lesson......Dont't get so busy in life that you forgot who gave you yours......and sacrificed His.  Don't get on such a schedule that you have to pencil Him in, because He didnt pencil you in-He permanently marked you for grace and mercy if you accept it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-6860365274031161108?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/6860365274031161108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/04/fill-er-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/6860365274031161108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/6860365274031161108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/04/fill-er-up.html' title='Fill &apos;er up'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-462766987631755163</id><published>2010-04-29T10:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T11:18:05.674-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Help I am Becoming My Mother....and I Can't Stop!</title><content type='html'>The last couple of weeks has really been trying for me.  I have realized in an instant why my mother is beginning to show in me.  My oldest daughter, Mabree, who will soon be 11, has come to an age of all knowing, moody, grumpy, hormones on their way, insanity.  I often remind her that the only one that is all knowing...is God.  And very quickly she replies back to me, mhhmmm as if to say back at ya babe!  I really dont know how I ever made it this far in life.  My daughter seems to think I dont know my head from a hole in the ground....wow I must have been really lucky to be where I am today....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She does have valid points, which is where I quickly reference back to my childhood.  I can remember when VCRs first came out (wow that dates me), and my mom had no clue how to work it, hook it up or any other electronic contraption for that matter.  I also remember how crazy I thought she was for not knowing....I have recently found myself in the same situation.  There are applications on my cell phone I didnt even know existed or how they operate.  Mabree can figure them out quickly, only leaving me in limbo, because its "so easy, how could I not know how to do it".  I feel more and more like my mom everyday.  I'm not hip or in tune with all of the new techno stuff, or whats popular....and I almost always get a "you are not serious" look when I say "Oh these clothes were in style when I was young".  What???? Did that just come out of my mouth???? I am becoming my mother....what has happened to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have quickly learned that I have no clue about the world and how it revolves, and by the words of my daughter when referencing her substitute teacher as being in her 30s and OLD and possbily having dementia, because thats what happens to old people....Lord please help me....before my mind goes and I lose all control of bodily functions.  I'm only a few years away from 40, I ll be needing a walker or wheelchair soon!  Wow....I see now why my mom said and did the things that she did.  I never thought I would ever see where my mom was coming from when she made the rules, just as my daughter will not see the purpose of my rules until she has children of her own.  Life truly comes full circle, doesnt it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-462766987631755163?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/462766987631755163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/04/help-i-am-becoming-my-motherand-i-cant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/462766987631755163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/462766987631755163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/04/help-i-am-becoming-my-motherand-i-cant.html' title='Help I am Becoming My Mother....and I Can&apos;t Stop!'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-6007725071119924391</id><published>2010-02-21T22:53:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T18:09:53.667-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Jennifers</title><content type='html'>God has blessed me with two Jennifers in my life.  One, I've known for years, the other, a little over a year.  I often wonder what I ever did to deserve the friendships that I have, and to this day I still dont know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the Jennifers, the one I've known the longest is like my kid sister.  My mom will sometimes call me laughing, having read one of our comments to each other-usually with name calling involved.  Chickenhead, dork, Kiki, Jenny, its all been used before.  We have so many things in common.  We both have two children, she has boys, I have girls.  She may eventually be crazy enough to have a third, but thats all her, I want no part of that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She inspires me to think outside of the box.  She is creative, even if I make fun of her creativity, I really love it, but its my job to aggravate the kids sister right?  We are alot alike with our attitudes, shes my "google queen", and I'm her "pick your battles" friend.  She is a wonderful person, a little timid compared to me and Traci, but a wonderful person.  We can have fun together, because we both accept our differences, we dont have to be attached at the hip when we shop, and we are pretty honest with each other.  Jennifer is one to nicely break things to you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has really had alot on her mind lately.  Our conversations have changed. So my prayer for her is that one day she will know "her worth".  I want her to know how creative she makes me, and how she laughs at her husband and enjoys his humor, how her eyes light up when she thinks of her children.  We are both sentimental "fruit loops". I say that lovingly, because we both get choked up when thinking about our families and the memories of our childhood.  Jennifer, know that you are worth the hand of your husband walking beside him and not behind him, the breathe of your boys that you gave them, the push you give me to get out of my comfort zone, and an ear to listen to anyone who needs it.  Love ya Chickenhead!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other Jennifer, one that I have known for such a short time, but I feel like I have known her forever is the truest form of faith that I have ever seen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning, when Mallory was still a baby, I was dropping her off at the church daycare.  My mother in law had been telling me about a little girl at their church that was really sick with cancer a few weeks before.  As I am walking Mal in, I pass a woman, her young son, and her daughter.  At that moment, I knew who the little girl was, I choked back my tears until I was safely back in my car, and then in the quiet, I lost it.  I was a mother hurting for another mother.  I didnt know her at all, but God did.  It was then that God began really working in my life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a long time after we starting to go to the same church, my heart ached for Jennifer anytime I thought about her.  Just a few short weeks later, Emilee died, but that is where Jennifers inspiration really started.  She still engulfed herself into our childrens ministry, and even though I knew and still know that her heart breaks everyday, her faith in God has pushed me on the days I forgot my faith.  She is one of the most inspiring people I have ever had the chance to know.  God put her in my life to fully show me what faith should be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jennifer is such a sweet person, she has been plagued with an unimaginable loss, but to meet her, you wouldnt know it.  She is the one that Christ shows His face through.  A gleaming light for the world to see, without any sign of tragedy. She has taught me more than I could ever repay.  A friend and I were talking one day about her finding someone to love her like she deserves to be loved, but to us there is nobody good enough for her.  She deserves so much more than any one person  could ever give her.  One of her treasures is waiting on her in Heaven, the other beside her. Jennifer, I hope you realize what an inspiration you are to so many people.  You are a light for Christ, more than you know.  Love ya sista girl!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-6007725071119924391?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/6007725071119924391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/02/jennifers.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/6007725071119924391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/6007725071119924391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/02/jennifers.html' title='The Jennifers'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-7086938419900151836</id><published>2010-02-12T16:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T17:49:55.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Still &amp; Know I Am God</title><content type='html'>Our lives are so busy, its rare that we ARE still long enough to hear from Heaven.  I've always said in talking to people that I'm a little stubborn.  I am not one that God can gently tap on the shoulder and I will listen-its more like UFC fighting when He pops me in the back of the head.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am convicted everyday, which to me means I am walking with Him.  Because just like with our parents, we didnt feel guilty unless we thought we were going to get caught. The mercy He provides us is undeserving.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For months a friend and I have been toying around with the idea of starting a new business.  I have been faithfully praying about what Gods plan was for me.  Those of you that know God also know that He works on His time not ours. A month or so ago, Jennifer and I were talking and we decided that this was it, it was time, so we sat down and wrote out a game plan.  Our purpose is to brighten the lives of people, and do something we both enjoy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully we will begin booking home parties next month.  As the blessings pour in, we also want them to pour out.  Our hope is that we keep God in the center of our lives and in doing so we are able to share our profits with those in need.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In giving God the glory.....Sugar Snails Pottery &amp; Gifts is becoming a reality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-7086938419900151836?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/7086938419900151836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/02/be-still-know-i-am-god.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/7086938419900151836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/7086938419900151836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/02/be-still-know-i-am-god.html' title='Be Still &amp; Know I Am God'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-7186291277661675701</id><published>2010-02-09T18:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T13:48:05.211-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sister From Another Mister</title><content type='html'>God is a truly amazing God. He brings people into your life for lots of reasons-to teach, to love, to hurt, to strengthen, to humble, to mentor, and to inspire. I have friends that do all of these things for me. Traci is my honest, tell you whether it hurts your feelings or not, see the other side of it friend. I feel like we are the same on so many levels. I know that she will tell me what I really need, not just what I think I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being an only child, I never had that sibling connection until Traci. The only thing I feel like we are missing are the genes. We could never NOT be friends, we know too much about the other. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many memories of our 15 year friendship. Where do I begin? We met at a doctors office in Callahan where we both worked. For a few years, it was just me, Traci and Connie. People came in and out but no one ever lasted. We were the only ones tough enough (or stupid enough) to stick it out. We only became closer. The three of us would go shopping in St Augustine, to each others house for parties, out to eat, just the normal stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't imagine my life without Traci. She is always the one I call when I need the truth. Just a couple of weeks ago I called her, and told her I needed some "Traci" time. Her response was.."uh-oh, I dont know if thats a good thing or not", but she never hesitated, her only question was "what time?" I know that about her. I felt such a relief when that lunch was over, like a weight had been lifted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has comforted me through a divorce, chastised me when my priorities weren't right, cried with me when we both lost a wonderful friend, and loved me unconditionally through all of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that our relationship isnt the same, because we are in two different places in life, but it will never fade. I love her now as much as I ever have, and I know that she loves me too. Life has a tendency to come full circle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-7186291277661675701?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/7186291277661675701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-sister-from-another-mother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/7186291277661675701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/7186291277661675701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-sister-from-another-mother.html' title='My Sister From Another Mister'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-3853512017217479315</id><published>2010-02-05T21:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T13:47:52.212-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My How Time Flies,,,,</title><content type='html'>Well its been almost 2 weeks since I've blogged, and as the title implies it has flown by.  Theres never a dull moment around here.  I've tried to be boring, but its just not our style, I guess. Since I last blogged, quite a bit has happened.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week and a half ago, I received an alarming "middle of the night" phone call.  You know the ones......you automatically know that something bad has happened......and it had.  My house that was left to me by my dad burned to the ground.  As a child, I stayed in this home every other weekend, summers, and holiday breaks.  At first, I didnt have much of a reaction.  I was glad that everyone was okay and no one was hurt.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, I got Mal off to school, and Mabree and I made the two hour drive to see just what the fire had consumed.  When I turned at the red light heading to the house, my nerves started to get the best of me.  The closer we came, the worse my emotions became.  As we pulled into the drive, fire trucks were again battling the reoccuring flair ups. The fire was trapped between a wall, and was continuing to burn.  You can't really prepare yourself for anything like the sight of a childhood home no longer standing, but just a smoldering pile of bricks.  My mind just kept going back two weeks when my girls and my mom decided to have a camp out in the garage with an air mattress and a tent.  The garage was now unrecognizable, with the roof fallen in on the floor.  A closer look revealed the metal bracket that held the tent up and what appeared to be the melted plastic of the air mattress.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How humbling can one experience be?  How gracious can my God be?  As I continued walking around the house time after time, my mind repeatedly went back to the camp out.  Then as I stood back and focused on the front porch, the outline of my great grandmothers rocker caught my eye....I gasped.  Now only a charred shadow of what it once was.  Its one of the very rockers I have blogged about before, a big part of my growing up, and it was gone.  The other chair that also graced the front porch was merely ashes in the pile of rubble.  I managed to pull one side of the charred rocker out and although only half was in tact, I knew that I had to keep it.  No longer functional, but still filled with emotion.  It now graces my home, and everytime I see it, I am reminded of the many times that I have sat in it listening to the advice of my grandmother and great grandmother.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most importantly, I know that the chair is only a piece of wood, one with memories, but still only wood.  What I still have are my children and my family.  God has once again shown me His face and it is beautiful.  One of my favorite inspirations is.....Be still and know I am God.  Its rare that any of us are still long enough to see God or to hear Him.  But on that morning staring on, the crackling of the wood, and onlookers slowing down, I was still.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-3853512017217479315?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/3853512017217479315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-how-time-flies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/3853512017217479315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/3853512017217479315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-how-time-flies.html' title='My How Time Flies,,,,'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-8784525906583558378</id><published>2010-01-25T22:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T23:37:06.685-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Angel that Called Me Friend</title><content type='html'>As some of you may know, I lost one of my very close friends a few years back. Connie was the friend that everybody wanted. She always had something positive to say, always defended people that frankly didnt deserve it, and even when she tried to be mad, she was never successful. Sometimes, no alot of times, we would get angry with her for defending someone who didnt deserve the air she breathed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have many fond memories of her. I worked with her for years, and although she was closer to my best friend, I wasn't jealous. I think I saw myself as the kid sister in the relationship. I think of many times I didnt deserve her friendship. I think everyone around her took her for granted at times, but I loved her, and I will always love her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I spent time with her was about 3 weeks before she died. Traci invited me to be her date to the company Christmas party at Alltel Stadium. It was a little awkward for some reason. We decided to create our own after party and lets just say that we celebrated well. Again, things were just different. She had become a different person, and we all could see the reason, but she couldnt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did however see her one other time before her passing, and I will never forget the conversation she and I had. I wanted her to know how I felt about decisions that she was making. I wanted her to see that she wasnt the same person. It hurts me so bad to know that this was the last time I saw her. I should have told her I loved her, I should have hugged her, I should have never let her know how I felt, I should have been the friend to her that she was to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Years Eve, my husband and I celebrated with great friends at Traci's. Connie had not arrived, and Traci and I were burning up her phone. 10,11,12,1,2,3..no Connie. She had stayed back at another party in Callahan with some other friends of ours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the sun rose on the New Year, Connie was dead, and my world was rearranged. For the first few hours, I was just numb. How could she be dead? Why wasnt she with us? We would have never allowed her to leave. So many questions and even more blame. It didnt sink in until I called my mom. At that moment, I realized that the next time I saw her, she would be in the front of a church, in a coffin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sea of people came to pay their respects. The line went on for hours and hours....she had touched the lives of each of them. I reluctantly went to the front, where she lay, and I again became numb.  It was real, and it was Connie, not the one I remember, but it was Connie.  It was obvious to me that her death was not an easy one and the more I tried to convince myself that she died quickly, and without pain, the more I realized that she had not.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember sitting the next morning in the same church at her funeral service, trying to keep it together.  Sitting between Traci and Jennifer, listening to the service, but off in another place, the last image of her etched into my mind.  I fell to pieces.....only for someone to say to me..."You cant break down..you're the strong one"....me? The strong one?  I failed to get THAT memo, but in a small instant, my tears had ceased for the time.  It was a devastating loss to me.  She was so many things to so many people, a mother, a sister, a daughter, my friend.  Now she is my angel that probably talks me up to God, because thats what she does.  She is making excuses for me probably as we speak.  God needed her more than we did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-8784525906583558378?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/8784525906583558378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/angel-that-called-me-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/8784525906583558378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/8784525906583558378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/angel-that-called-me-friend.html' title='The Angel that Called Me Friend'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-3886902458309839888</id><published>2010-01-24T07:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T22:16:55.548-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mabree Caraline</title><content type='html'>August 31, 1998....the day my pregnancy test showed positive, the day my life changed forever......the day I became a mother.  I had never had a feeling like that before in my life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband and I had tried to have a baby for about 4 1/2 years prior to that day.  Attempt after attempt, procedures, medicines, tests....I thought it would never happen.  Everyone around us was having children, were we destined to be without?  I was on my second round of fertility drugs, and taking my temperature.  How unromantic it had become, with a chart on the nightstand, trying to be exact with spikes in temp.  If only I had been saved by God at that point, maybe I would have had faith that He would not leave me barren. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was taking pregnancy tests every month, and as much as I wanted this one to be positive, I knew not to get too excited.  My husband had gone hunting that morning (this was before beepers and cell phones)and would be gone all day.   I carefully unpacked the test, read the instructions a million times, I wanted to make sure I did everything just as the directions said.  Now the wait...I decided to completely leave the room for the 2 minutes, because I couldn't bare to watch the dissapointment.  I came back into the bathroom after what seemed like eternity, and looked at the test, looked at the instructions, back and forth, countless times.....it couldnt be right, I couldnt be pregnant....but I was, at least I was almost sure.....so the only thing I knew to do, was to call my best friend, who had worked with an infertility specialist, just to make sure..(I wasnt a nurse at this time).  She got emotional and confirmed what I already knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the wait until the new dad came home.  My nervous energy got the best of me, so I decided to go do a little shopping.  I decided to get my husband a gift.....so I carefully picked out a set of pacifiers and teething ring.  I wrapped them in a box and sat them on the counter and eagerly waited his arrival.  I tried to keep myself busy but I just wanted to scream it from the roof......I'M HAVING A BABY!!!!!!! When he came into the house, I listened as he took his gear off, trying to be patient, I walked to the kitchen to wait for him to round the wall.  Oh come on already....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he appeared FINALLY, I handed him the box.  He said "whats this?", I told him to just open it, it was a surprise.  So he carefully unwrapped the box and when he opened the lid, he looked at the foreign object with a confused look on his face...and then looked at me and said "Are you pregnant?"  Of course, I began to sob like a baby myself and just shook my head.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didnt take my body long to figure out that something wasnt right.  I have never been so sick ever in my lifetime.  I began losing weight, and the dr wanted me to come in immediately.  I had Hyperemesis gravadarum, or extreme morning sickness that lasted 24/7.  I didnt eat very much during that time and after it was all said and done, I had lost over 20 pounds in a one month period.  My OB did an ultrasound and thought it may be unsafe for me to continue the pregnancy.  He could see signs of kidney failure....my only response to him was "I am not aborting this baby, I will die first."  He said back to me.."then you better find a way to get nourishment." After different meds, a few hospitalizations, IV fluids at home, and some time....my body decided it would let up.  What really amazed me was that it wasnt my body doing the attacking at all....it was my mind..(didnt find out the reason until years later in nursing school).  It was from events that occurred during my childhood of which I had no control, and again when I became pregnant, my mind was flooded with the inability to control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On May 3, 1999, I gave birth to a beautiful 6lb 14oz baby girl.  The birth was without complications, and in that instant..two became three and my world and heart were changed forever. Its amazing to me that the moment I met Mabree I was instantly in love.  The little kicks and punches I had felt for so long had now materialized into this child, and she was mine.  God's greatness wrapped in a blanket nestled in my arms.........God is good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-3886902458309839888?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/3886902458309839888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/mabree-caraline.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/3886902458309839888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/3886902458309839888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/mabree-caraline.html' title='Mabree Caraline'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-7367920976240718409</id><published>2010-01-23T13:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T13:09:42.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Cup Runneth Over and Its Making A Mess</title><content type='html'>"My Cup Runneth Over" is one of my very favorite quotes used in one of my very favorite movies, Hope Floats.  If you have never seen it, this should be on your hot pink scooter list.  I dont think I've explained the hot pink scooter list, so briefly, its basically mine and 2 of my friends bucket list.  (We expect to be riding hot pink scooters when we hit the nursing home).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok back my cup running over.....I have realized that this is sometimes how I see my cup.  Kinda like the people who instead of seeing their glass half full, they see it as half empty.  Instead of letting my life happen, my control freakness, has to plan how my life should happen.  I am really trying to work on this, and with the grace from above, I will succeed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I really began to realize how much of a control freak I was when it came out in my 10 1/2 year old, Mabree.  When she and Mallory play, Mabree feels the need to control the situation instead of an equal partnership.  I dont place blame on her, because they are a product of their environment, right?  So lately, I have really tried hard to take a tiny step back (which feels like a leap over the Grand Canyon)and just allow things to happen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so yes sometimes I panic, (ok so maybe frequently) when i have allowed Mabree to fix her own hair, and its not quite the way I want it, or Mallory picks out her own clothes.(who thinks that all shades of pink match).  My talk to myself is....nobody is going to die as a result, no failing grades, no snickers from other moms as I go by, and the sun will still rise in the east and set in he west.  Ok, conquered.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mabree is the laid back, not a care in the world, tom boyish child that can be girlie if required.  She has many talents including dance, acting, and my most jaw dropping discovery....singing. Because of my mistakes in life, she has learned to adapt, sometimes reluctantly.  I dont give her near the credit she deserves.  She has survived me, despite me.  I can be very critical of her, when there is really no reason to criticize.  I do try to lovingly criticize, but I dont think she and I see it the same. She is a wonderful helper to me.  She even loves to cook, and on occasion she has cooked our entire meal.  She jumps at the opportunity to help me with certain tasks. Her least favorite are cleaning her room, and folding and putting away clothes, come to think of it...thats mine too.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My blessings pour out, yet I see them pouring out onto my nice freshly mopped floor.  Why is that?  Why do I not see that my greatest blessings are 10 and 4 year old girls who make messes?  Instead of gracefully cleaning up the messes, I fuss about them.  God gave me these beautiful daughters, and sometimes I catch myself listening to what they have to say without REALLY LISTENING.  I have prayed about this most of all, and only by Gods mercy am I trying to improve. So what if my house is not spotless? Will they remember the crumb on the floor or the fact that I played a game or read a book to them? Children are resilient, but they are resilient sponges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my girls grow up, and people say they are a product of their environment....I want that to be a GOOD thing.  I want them to be happy that their cups are running over onto the floor.  We make a decision everyday to accept the blessings or mop them up and pour them down the drain!  Today.....my floor is ankle deep!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-7367920976240718409?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/7367920976240718409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-cup-runneth-over-and-its-making-mess.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/7367920976240718409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/7367920976240718409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-cup-runneth-over-and-its-making-mess.html' title='My Cup Runneth Over and Its Making A Mess'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-4092155537322760566</id><published>2010-01-23T09:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T10:52:46.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Leila Lou</title><content type='html'>Looking back into my childhood, offers me mostly happy memories.  Of course, there were several bumps in the road, but I've come to the conclusion that those bumps have become my strengths.  I was definitely not raised in a traditional 2 parent family, with the white picket fence.....but honestly who was?  My mother has always been the constant in my life.  I think there have been times that she regrets some of the decisions she made, but I didnt turn out so bad.  I'm 36, have a degree as a registered nurse, have 2 wonderful children, a great husband (most of the time), a beautiful home, even if I didnt have a dime to my name, what would I have to complain about?  I have said this many times......but I think your mother should be your biggest fan, and I know without a doubt that my mother is my biggest fan ALWAYS! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come from a long line of wonderful, beautiful, strong, independent, hard headed, stubborn women.  The "Mizell" women are something I am proud of. They are my heritage.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first memories of my great grandmother were in a two story house in Folkston.  As a child, the house seemed so big....the perfectly square kitchen with the slamming screen door, the wooden staircase that creeked when you stepped on a certain step, the bedrooms upstairs that connected, and most of all....the smell.  It was an honest mix of dove soap, estee lauder powder and dampness.  Its funny how our minds will take us back when we smell familiar aromas.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have sat many afternoons on my great grandmothers front porch, in one of those big wooden rocking chairs (if you are from the south..you know the ones)listening to them talk about things going on in the world.  They weren't always the most productive conversations, but ones I will always cherish.  My great grandmother, Leila Aldridge, (Granny Aldridge)or as my mother lovingly says.."Leila Lou", had several sisters (10 I think)and one baby brother.  Most anyday, you could come by Granny Aldridges porch and she would be sitting out there.  There were always visitors, especially in the afternoon.  She would read her Bible in the afternoon sun and invite any non-believer to join her.  She had her faults, but she always had kind words for us.  Several years ago, she passed, and I realized how much I took for granted the afternoon "porch sitting".  It is something that her daughters and others greatly miss too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she passed, the only thing I asked for was a "granny" ceramic bank.  I remembered it from the many summer days that I spent with Granny Aldridge and her sister Edna.  Probably a very inexpensive gift, it sat on a side table in the living room forever.  One afternoon, mom called me hysterically upset. She had accidentally dropped the bank, and being full of money...it shattered into a gazillion pieces.....there was no saving it. Although I was upset, it was just an object....and nothing could compare to my memory of her.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prior to Granny A passing, she had assigned my mom the task of disbursing her items as she saw fit, except for the few items Granny A preassigned before dying.  One was for me....a ring I remember vividly.  A simple December birthstone ring that she wore everyday.  She gave it to me because we were the only December birthdays. It was a wonderful surprise.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before Granny Aldridge came back to Folkston to live out the remainder of her days, she shared a home with Aunt Edna in Waycross. I loved going there as a child.  My cousins and I would play in the cow field tossing cow pucks and playing in the creek down the road.  The long summer days kept us consumed.  Endless hours of running, skipping, jumping, eating popsicles, chasing bugs, drinking out of the water hose, running in and out of the screen door, allowing it to slam each time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now as a mom, I get to watch my children play.  Its a glorious cycle although ever changing.  The sounds of summer as a child cross my mind frequently, and almost always, those are the ones I remember the best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-4092155537322760566?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/4092155537322760566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/leila-lou.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/4092155537322760566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/4092155537322760566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/leila-lou.html' title='Leila Lou'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-6486971401255113847</id><published>2010-01-21T21:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T11:03:13.861-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quarky toddler talk</title><content type='html'>I am the proud mother of two girls, 10 and 4 (going on 20). My 4 year old, like many 4 year olds has her own lingo. She gets very annoyed with us when we dont get it, and I feel like I need a college course so that I can "get it". One of my favorite words that she says is "Cuge" (the mallory definition is: large, gigantic, enormous). She says it with such confidence, like she knows exactly what she's talking about, and wish we did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite Mal word of all time would have to be "babing soup" (mal definition: bathing suit).  I will miss this one the most. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me a little longer to figure out what "Cudding" was. Simple, I know. (the mallory definition: pudding, any flavor will do). I know that I should correct her, but it would seriously ruin my enjoyment. And besides, I dont think I have ever heard an adult call anything CUGE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she comes to me a few nights ago and says "Sarah, my friend finally turned 5, so she can babysit me and you and daddy can go out on a date." First of all, this raises so many questions...to begin with, how does she know what a date is? I have never discussed this with her, and secondly, where does she figure that a 5 year old can babysit if her 10 year old sister can't? Gotta love that toddler math!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lesterday" (mallory definition: yesterday, even if it was months ago) she gets on her cell phone (an old phone of ours that no longer works) and talks to a little boy named Austin. She says to me from the backseat..."Mama, Austin asked me to go out with him" I said "Really, and where are you going out to?"..."the stower (mallory definition: store) to buy me candy." she said. I quickly replied, no and we would discuss it later.  That discussion never came.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, there is never a dull moment here. My girls keep me young, or at least they attempt. Have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-6486971401255113847?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/6486971401255113847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/quarky-toddler-talk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/6486971401255113847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/6486971401255113847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/quarky-toddler-talk.html' title='Quarky toddler talk'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7192262590156414180.post-1483347381629443735</id><published>2010-01-21T20:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T21:25:15.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Purpose</title><content type='html'>Well this is my first blog, I guess you could call me a virgin blogger.  I started the blog for the purpose of remembrance.  Although I'm only 36, I realized that I can't remember all of the little stories that made me smile.  The little moments are the ones that make my heart skip a beat, and I dont want to lose that feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to write about past, present, and future moments-moments that made me laugh, cry, hurt and heal.  I feel like everybody hurts and everybody has the potential to heal.  Everyone has laughed and cried, but its completely up to you which you choose to do more....I personally hope that at the end of my life, my happiness drastically outweighs the hurt, and my laughter overcomes my cries.  Each of us has a journey to walk, and it is our decision everyday whether we walk it alone or with the blessings from above.  This is why my blog is called Journey Blessings, because my hope for myself and my children is that when in doubt, look up-when in shame, look up-when in love, look up, when content, look up-when all else fails or when all is well, look up, because no matter what..... God does not fail or fall.  God Bless each of you, and may your blessings pour out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Renee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7192262590156414180-1483347381629443735?l=journeyblessings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/feeds/1483347381629443735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/purpose.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/1483347381629443735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7192262590156414180/posts/default/1483347381629443735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://journeyblessings.blogspot.com/2010/01/purpose.html' title='The Purpose'/><author><name>ReNee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06432727413765959541</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QjAqZeG-1MI/S1kOzqMM1EI/AAAAAAAAAAM/94N-T8sSeu0/S220/profile+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
